Atmosphere(78)

Later, before they fell asleep, Joan said, “Happiness is so hard to come by. I don’t understand why anyone would begrudge anyone else for managing to find some of it.”

“That’s because you’re too good for the world you love so much,” Vanessa said.


Frances was the flower girl. Daniel’s friend Robert held the rings. Vanessa wore the one dress she owned. It was a navy blue shift that she wore under a blazer, with a pair of loafers.

Joan stood at Barbara’s side, quietly holding her and Barbara’s flowers. When the preacher was speaking about love not being boastful, Joan’s heart seized. She looked at Vanessa in the second-to-last row, and smiled as she caught her gaze.

As Daniel and Barbara made their vows, Joan smiled at Vanessa, hoping that Vanessa understood what Joan’s smile was trying to say.

I would promise you all of this, too.


During the reception, Joan sat next to Vanessa at the table. Frances was on her other side. Joan’s parents were across from them. As the waiters came around with wine, Joan saw her father kiss her mother on the temple. How had she not seen it before? Been taken in by it? Her parents’ love story.

“Introducing,” the bandleader said, “Mr. and Mrs. Davenport!”

Barbara and Daniel came out, and Joan could see that Barbara had changed from her princess-style wedding dress into a sleeker long-sleeved lace gown.

“Mom looks beautiful,” Frances said.

“Yes, she does,” Joan said.

“You two look so much alike,” Vanessa whispered into Joan’s ear. Joan’s chest flushed.

Barbara beamed as she stood at the center of the dance floor with Daniel. She had landed one of the most notable bachelors in town, she’d been able to quit her job and become a housewife, she was getting the big house, the country club membership. Of course she was happy.

This was Barbara’s low-Earth orbit, Joan realized.

But just as Daniel pulled Barbara toward him, Joan saw something else pass across Barbara’s face. It was a look she’d never seen in Barb before, but it was easy enough to recognize: she loved him. Daniel smiled as he put his cheek to hers, and Joan could see that he loved her, too.

Joan closed her eyes, flooded with joy. She looked at Vanessa, who clearly could see it, too.

“I hate him,” Frances said.

“What?” Joan asked.

“He’s such a dork. And I hate him.”

“Frances!” Joan’s mother said, as she shook her head. “My dear, we don’t say such things.”

Vanessa leaned across Joan and whispered to Frances, “Hey, I saw the wedding cake over in the hallway. Do you want to go see if we can get a tiny bit of frosting off it, without anyone noticing?”

“You can’t do that—” Joan said.

Frances was already up and giggling. “Yes!” she said. Vanessa winked at Joan as she and Frances scurried away conspiratorially.

Joan’s mother leaned over to Joan. “I’m worried about her behavior. Barbara said she’s been rude to Daniel.”

Joan shook her head. “I’m sure it’s just an adjustment. It’s hard to have your mom all to yourself your entire life and then watch some guy come in and take her attention.”

Joan’s mother nodded. “Elaine did say her grandson threw tantrums the whole first year after her daughter remarried.”

“Hopefully they’ll all find a little balance as a family sooner than that,” Joan said.

“Vanessa is a delight. Good friend you got there,” Joan’s father said.

Joan swallowed and nodded. She wanted so badly to tell her parents than Vanessa was more than a friend. She wanted to open her mouth and say that lying in bed next to Vanessa at night was the only way Joan knew she’d had a good day. That the touch of her hand in Joan’s made Joan’s heartbeat slow down. That Joan did not know why everyone was so goddamn happy all the time until she met her.

But the Moral Majority was campaigning again for Reagan. Anita Bryant had come through Houston just a handful of years ago to convince voters that people like Joan should not be allowed to be near children. A couple of years ago, Billie Jean King had come out and lost $2 million in endorsements overnight. At that very moment, people all over the country were convinced that AIDS was a punishment for moral failing.

Sure, her parents weren’t from Texas. They were from Pasadena, California, and had gone door-to-door for Kennedy and then Johnson. But Joan knew that they had never known a person like her, at least that they had been aware of. So how could they truly understand this part of Joan at all? Her parents misunderstood her, the same way she’d misunderstood herself for so long.

Joan wanted to tell both of them that they thought she didn’t want to get married, but the truth was that she wanted exactly what Barbara had. She wanted what they had. She wanted what Donna and Hank had. And what every marriage in the whole godforsaken country had.

The right to exist and to love and be proud and happy.

The right to live.

“Yeah, Vanessa is really sweet,” she said.

When Frances and Vanessa came back to the table, Frances seemed to have forgotten all about hating Daniel.

“Couldn’t find the cake,” Vanessa said, smiling. “But we did find a tray of brownies and we snuck one.”