Page 51 of The Space Between

When he returns, he stands next to Bill, facing the same direction and looking at the same monitors. “Bill,” he says. “I’m relieving you of your duties on this mission. There’s no room for second-guessing here, and I’m going to ask you to step away without making an issue of this. Do you hear me?”

Bill isn’t at all sure that he’s doing the right thing, but he’s doing what hethinksis right, and sometimes that’s the very best you can do. He wants to prove himself, and to show that he’s able to consider both his own findings and determinations, as well as to weigh the possible dangers and successes of the mission itself. He’s in a tough spot, and he knows it. His entire career could be in jeopardy if he says or does the wrong thing.

Bill can feel the eyes of nearly every man in mission control watching him furtively as he stands shoulder to shoulder with Arvin North, and so he nods, casting his gaze to the floor. “I hear you, sir,” he finally says, confirming it with another nod. “I do.”

Arvin clears his throat next to Bill and then claps Bill on the back once. “Next time,” he says in a voice that’s laced with regret and understanding. “We’ll give it another go next time.”

Bill walks off the floor of mission control then, not making eye contact with anyone as he does, and when he pushes the latched door handle with both hands, it swings open wildly and nearly knocks Jeanie off her feet.

“Bill!” she says with surprise. She’s been asked to stay and watch the mission from the viewing deck, and while he knows that he should follow her directly up there and watch and learn right alongside her and the other engineers and astronauts who are non-essentials on this particular mission, he knows that he can’t do it. He just can’t.

Without a word, Bill pushes past Jeanie and makes a beeline for the stairwell, where he yanks open another door and starts taking the steps two and then three at a time.

“Bill!” Jeanie calls after him, standing in the doorway as she looks up at him ascending. Her voice echoes in the concrete stairwell, and there’s a plaintive note in her cry that forces him to stop in his tracks. He stands there, one hand on the railing, his back to the bottom floor where Jeanie waits. “What happened?” she asks.

Her voice reverberates off of everything and fills his ears. Bill can feel the hum of her words in his chest. He stands there, still saying nothing, but not running away.

“Can you come down? Can we talk?” she pleads. “Or can I come up?”

Bill knows that everyone will either be watching or taking part in the mission, and the chance of anyone happening onto their conversation is low, so he turns around and sits—slowly. He rests both elbows on his knees and then puts his head into his hands, letting it rest there.

Carefully, as if approaching a wounded animal, Jeanie climbs the stairs. She walks on the balls of her feet, which keeps her heels from clicking on the concrete, and soon she is standing just beneath Bill—two steps down—and looking right at him.

“Bill,” she whispers imploringly, putting her hands on his shoulders but not shaking him. “Hey.”

Bill stays inside of himself. He can’t unfurl physically or emotionally right away, and so it’s better for him to stay curled up and to keep to his thoughts tucked away until it feels safe to speak.

“I don’t know what happened in there,” Jeanie says, keeping her hands on his shoulders. Bill can feel her moving closer until her upper thighs are touching his knees. If he lifts his head, he knows they will be face to face. “I’m here to listen, Bill. Or I can just sit next to you and we can be quiet.”

As if to prove this point, Jeanie lets go of his shoulders and shifts so that she’s sitting next to him on the hard step. “Ooh,” she says to herself as she settles her body, tucking her thin skirt beneath her. “Cold.”

Bill can feel the faintest hint of a smile as listens to her, but he’s still too far inside himself to be able to interact, so he doesn’t. They sit quietly for a long while.

“I’ve missed talking to you,” Jeanie says softly. “I’ve missed your friendship, and I don’t know what happened between us to make things weird, but I’m still here, Bill.”

Finally, Bill lifts his head and looks at her raggedly. “You don’t know what happened?” he rasps. “You really don’t?” Rather than launching into his real feelings and his deepest accusations, Bill reaches for the surface answer, the lightest punch. “You and Abernathy are always together,” he says, feeling like an idiot and a child as the words come out. “You seem pretty preoccupied there.”

“Bill,” Jeanie says, but then doesn’t go on.

“No, seriously. Everywhere I look, you and Peter are together, and I don’t want to interrupt.”

“Oh, come on,” Jeanie says, but now her voice sounds exasperated, and Bill’s head whips in her direction. He hadn’t expected exasperation. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Bill waits a beat, and as he watches her face, he can feel a vein pulsing in his forehead.

“Why did you tell Peter I had a boyfriend?”

There is no good answer for this, or rather, there is no good answer that won’t make her upset. Bill shrugs. “I’m not sure.”

Hot, angry tears appear in Jeanie’s eyes and he looks away. “That was wrong, Bill.”

“I know,” he says instantly. He feels guilty, and he has ever since he’d lied to Peter in the elevator, though clearly it hadn’t stopped the guy from making his move. “But he asked you out anyway, so all’s well that ends well, right?”

“Not exactly,” Jeanie says, sniffing and tossing her head back as she fights off the tears that had threatened to fall. “We got to talking one day in the lunch room and he mentioned that he was having a party and wanted to know if my boyfriend and I might want to come.”

“Oh,” Bill says.

“Right,” Jeanie agrees. “Oh.”

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