Page 41 of The Space Between

Her story! Not only has it been published each month, but potentially thousands of women have read it, and now NASA wants to recognize her and showcase her work. She squeezes her eyes shut tightly and smiles so hard that she feels like her face might break.

It’s only when the elevator chimes as it reaches the first floor and the doors open that Jo remembers Bill.

At some point—and sooner, rather than later—she’s going to have to tell him about Maxine and Winston. And Bill, smartman that he is, will realize instantly how close her characters’ names are to Josephine and William. It will all feel somewhat familiar to him, and he’ll definitely have feelings about what she’s written.

There’s no way that he won’t.

CHAPTER 19

Jeanie

In early September,Robert F. Kennedy resigns as Attorney General, The Animals top the charts with “House of the Rising Sun,” and NASA launches its first Orbital Geophysical Observatory from Cape Kennedy, which will orbit around the Earth and send information back for the next five years.

Jeanie is back at work, and Angela is in Chicago, making a slow, uphill recovery. Her plans to start college in the fall have been postponed, but her wedding plans with Andy have seemingly been moved up, as he’d panicked following the accident, fearful that he could somehow lose the girl he loves, and gotten down on one knee in the hospital room to propose. Jeanie is grudgingly happy for her little sister, though she knows that the chances are good now that Angela will marry and have children before she ever finishes college and becomes a teacher.

Bill, who has been inexplicably distant since Jeanie’s return two weeks after the accident, smiles at her guardedly and has avoided any and all one-on-one contact with her. For some reason, and not one based in any sort of realistic universe, Jeanie had hoped the entire time she was in Chicago that he might call to check on her. It was a crazy and wildly fantasticaldaydream, but every time the phone had rung in her mother’s kitchen, Jeanie thought that maybe she’d answer it and hear Bill Booker’s voice. That maybe he would have heard about the accident and been so worried about her that he would get her parents' phone number from Vicki and then call to check in. But that didn’t happen.

Now, he sees her, gives a brisk nod, and walks on, a stack of files tucked under one arm as he keeps his eyes ahead on his destination. Jeanie isn’t sure why he’s been so distant, but even when she’d first come back, all he’d done was say, “Glad you’re back, Miss Florence. And I’m happy to hear that your siblings are on the mend as well.”

She’d given Arvin North permission to share the details of the accident when she’d called to arrange her extended absence, and the women on staff had sweetly organized a fund to order and pay for flowers to be sent to her house in Chicago. Jeanie had opened the card eagerly, hoping for a list of names of those who’d contributed (naturally, she was looking for Bill’s name), but it had simply said: “We miss you—come back soon. The Team.”

Jeanie sighs now as she gathers up a stack of papers that she’s dropped on the carpet, and as she taps them against the edge of a desk to organize them, Jay Reed pauses nearby.

“Hey, Florence,” he says to her. “Are you coming to the birthday party at four?”

Jeanie looks at him. “Whose birthday?”

“Peter Abernathy,” he says, referring to one of Jeanie’s fellow engineers. “He’s turning thirty.”

Jeanie remembers riding with him in the elevator earlier that summer, and the way Peter had gone on and on about his weekend, his dates, his life, never once pausing to ask Jeanie anything about herself. She sighs.

“Sure,” she says with a tired smile. “If there’s cake, you can always count on me to be there.”

Jay taps the desk with two fingers and grins at her. “Great. See you there.”

At four, Jeanie is standing with a clutch of other female employees, holding a paper plate and a plastic fork and staring at a generic lump of cake from a bakery, its icing thick and sugary. She has two letters on her slice—a P and an E—which are undoubtedly from the name portion of the “Happy Birthday Peter” message that’s been piped onto the cake in blue frosting. She picks up her fork and carves off a tiny bite to be polite.

“I was so sorry to hear about the accident.” Rebecca, who Jeanie had been seated next to at Kathryn Michelin’s baby shower, is looking at her sympathetically. “My best friend and I were in a terrible accident in high school.” She visibly shivers at the memory. “So bad.”

Jeanie nods and puts the forkful of cake in her mouth to buy herself a moment before speaking. “It was bad,” she says after she chews. She's exhausted. That’s been one of her biggest complaints since the accident—just feeling physically depleted at all times. Most days she works until five, then goes home and collapses onto the couch, where she lets Vicki (if she’s home) choose what to watch on television. If she’s lucky, Vicki also heats up a can of Campbell’s soup and sets it in front of Jeanie with a small pile of crackers and a bottle of Tab.

“Is your sister doing any better?” Rebecca asks her now.

“She is. Thank you for asking. She’s still not walking, but the doctors are hopeful that they’ll figure out what’s going on here very soon. She was allowed to go back home this week, and I think it’s going okay. My mom is with her all the time, and they’re using the long days to plan my sister’s wedding next spring.”

“Wow! Good for her,” Rebecca says. Her eyes light up at the mention of a wedding, and Jeanie remembers that Rebecca herself is newly engaged. She glances at the sparkling ring on Rebecca’s left hand at the same time that Rebecca does.

“How are your wedding plans coming along?” Jeanie asks politely, though she’s not in the mood to talk about anything celebratory. Across the room, one of the men tells a joke whose punchline ends in a loud roar of laughter from the other men, and she looks over just as Todd Roman thumps the birthday boy on the back.

“Things are good,” Rebecca says. “The wedding is set for December twenty-third. I really want the church to be decorated for Christmas, and also you save money that way. Let the church do the flowers and decorations for you.” Rebecca winks at her. “How about you—are you seeing anyone special?”

“I am seeing no one,” Jeanie says flatly. “I go home to my cat and I read a lot.” As the words are coming out of her mouth, she wishes she were saying something that sounded less pathetic, but she also doesn’t care. There isn’t room in her life at the moment for artifice, and there definitely isn’t time to worry about dating. “I’m busy with work and my family, and I’m good with that right now.”

Rebecca is staring at her unguardedly, and in her eyes, Jeanie sees pity. Rebecca clearly feels as though she’s talking to someone who has no life and who has zero idea about how to get one, and she is undoubtedly thinking some variation of “There but for the grace of God.”

“But I’m fine,” Jeanie says, forcing a smile. “Seriously. I want my sister to walk again, and I want to get back to work here. I feel like I missed a lot, and I don’t want that to happen again. Ever.” Rebecca is nodding now, but looking only slightly convinced. “Hey,” Jeanie says, taking a heartier bite of cake as ifthis will telegraph to Rebecca that she’s A-OK. “How is Kathryn doing? She had the baby, right?”

Rebecca’s face is awash in relief; finally, the topic has shifted to something that makes her feel less uncomfortable than Jeanie’s apparently chosen life as a twenty-seven-year-old shut-in with a cat.

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