Page 8 of The Space Between

Inside the cool house, Jo pauses in the kitchen. Someone has set the offending Sears catalog on the counter next to the telephone, and she picks it up gingerly, dropping it into the trash can with two fingers. No need to keep the evidence right there on her counter.

A swim actually sounds like just the thing to Jo, so she slips off her nylons and drops her sweaty skirt and blouse into the hamper before picking out a flowered one piece suit and joining Frankie and the kids in the pool for the rest of the afternoon.

CHAPTER 3

Bill

Bill’s morningand afternoon drives to and from work aren’t long, but they are his time to think and clear his head. In the morning, he cranks up the radio and reflects on the day ahead and what he needs to get done, and on the way home, he occasionally stops off at The Black Hole for one drink only, then cruises slowly home with one arm hanging out the window of his Corvette, and the other on the steering wheel as he ponders whatever has happened that day.

On this particular drive to work, Bill is listening to Elvis on the radio at low volume, recalling the minor debacle he’d come home to the night before. Jo had waited until they’d eaten and then sent the kids to read or hang out in their rooms before telling him about the incident that Frankie had shared with her that afternoon. It had been difficult to keep the smirk off his face as Jo had used euphemisms and awkward hand gestures to explain the situation. Bill completely understands the natural urges and interests of a boy at that age, but to the boy’s mother, this needed to be treated as a gravely serious situation to be dealt with.

In the end, Bill had invited Jimmy out for a late drive, which in and of itself was unusual, but as they’d driven through the darkened streets of Stardust Beach with the top of the Corvette down to let the warm summer night surround them, Bill had kept quiet.

When they reached the beach, he’d parked and wordlessly gotten out. Jimmy followed. They wandered down to the water together and stood there, side by side, looking at the moon over the waves.

“Jim,” Bill said in a mellow voice. “I understand that a boy feels things at your age, and I want you to understand that those things are all totally normal.”

Next to him, Jimmy had exhaled softly but audibly, like he’d been holding his breath and expecting something along these lines. “Dad, I—“ he started, sounding mildly defensive.

“No, no,” Bill stopped him. “I’m not mad, and I’m not asking you what happened. That’s personal business, son. You’re a growing young man, and that means you need a certain amount of privacy in your life. From now on, all I’m asking is that you lock the door and be aware of your surroundings, do you understand me? No one is in trouble,” he reiterated, “and there’s certainly nothing wrong with those…feelings—nor in the expression of them,” he said, clearing his throat lightly. “But the ladies in the house should be protected from such things. That’s all I’m saying.”

Jimmy remained silent and kept staring at the water. Finally, he’d nodded. “Okay, Dad.”

They’d driven home afterwards without speaking, and Bill had cranked up the music and let the wind blow their hair around wildly as he zipped around curves and took corners a bit faster than he needed to in order to amuse his son. Driving in that manner isn’t something he’d ever do with Jo and the girls in the car and Jimmy knows that, so that simple bit of carefreeboyishness between them was his way of underscoring their solidarity following a seemingly serious discussion.

But is it that serious to Bill? Not really. Some things are just a rite of passage with boys, to be perfectly honest. Now will he respond as casually when Jo tells him that one of the girls has started menstruating? Ugh, the very thought of that actually makes him cringe a little. With luck, Jo will handle that herself and not involve Bill too much, though he isn’t the kind of man who eschews all things pertaining to womanhood or anything barbaric like that. It’s just that they’re his baby girls…there’s something about them growing into young ladies that makes him wistful and somehow uneasy at the same time. Heck, maybe that’s how Jo feels about the whole Jimmy situation.

Bill swings his car into the lot at Cape Kennedy that morning and finds a spot near the building. He parks and turns off the car at the same time that Jeanie pulls into a spot just a row over from him. Without realizing it, they get out of their cars at the same time, closing their doors in quick succession. Jeanie hears his car door and turns, smiling at him with surprised happiness.

“Good morning, stranger,” she says, lifting one hand in greeting. The strap of her purse is slung over one shoulder and her brown paper lunch bag is held in her other hand. “How are you this fine morning?”

Bill keeps his lunch in a metal pail and carries a briefcase in his other hand, so rather than waving, he just smiles and waits for Jeanie to catch up to him so they can walk into the building together.

“Glad it’s Friday, that’s for sure.” Bill looks down at her as they fall into step together.

“Plans for the weekend?”

“Nothing too crazy. You?”

Jeanie tilts her head to one side. “I might go to a baby shower for one of the secretaries here—Kathryn Michelin, do you know her?”

Bill shakes his head. “Can’t say that I do. But I tend to keep to myself. I would imagine the ladies mingle a bit more than the men. Maybe you all chat around the coffee pot in the break room?”

Jeanie laughs lightly. “Sure. We stand around and trade recipes and talk about who the cutest astronauts are.”

“Really?” Bill frowns. That’s precisely what he would imagine the women doing, but the way Jeanie says it makes it sound sarcastic on her end.

“No, definitely not.”

Okay, sarcasm it is, Bill thinks. “Then how do you all know one another? If she’s a secretary from another floor or something, how are you acquainted?”

Jeanie considers this as their heels click on the pavement in unison. “I think it’s more of a sense of we all need to band together. We’re the interlopers here—and everywhere—when it comes to work situations, and so we all get to know one another.”

“The interlopers?” Bill cocks an eyebrow disbelievingly.

“Sure. You remember how it was when I first started here. I was an outsider for sure. Getting to know other women in the building—even just saying hello in elevators or sitting at a table of women at lunch—gives me a tribe. It gives us all people to lean on.”

Bill holds the door open for Jeanie and she walks through it. “This is really how women are?”

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