Page 47 of Starlight & Dark Nights

"So ultimately, she kind of lost her mind?" Jay asks. "It has to be rough on her, being alone and raising three kids. And Derek dying while she was pregnant..." His face blanches at the thought. "Women go through their own things, but that had to be really tough. Maybe volunteering a few days a week wouldn't have been enough to give her focus. Maybe she needs something bigger."

"So you think it's okay for her to pack up her children and follow some snake charmer around the country?" Ed is appalled. "I'm kind of thinking that NASA didn't do enough to help her."

"She got a settlement," Jay says reasonably. "That amount of money should be enough to take care of her and the kids for years, even if she packs them up and moves north to be closer to family. But she's choosing to do something else, and that is a damn shame, but I'm not sure what else NASA could have done. Or if it's even their responsibility to fix things for her."

Bill is done with his soup and he recaps the container. "I think she's a grown woman who can make her own family decisions," he says firmly. "But is this the way I'd want my own wife to live if something happened to me? Hell no." He reaches for the banana in his lunch pail and starts to peel it.

"What would you want her to do if she was in Maxine's shoes?"

Bill thinks about it as he chews the first chunk of banana. "Move back to Minnesota. Be amongst friends and family. Get her life together that way."

"But if you weren't here, then you wouldn't have any say," Ed points out.

"True. And you never know how a major tragedy affects a person." Bill squints through the window out at the blue skies of late May. It's progressively gotten hotter the closer they've gotten to Memorial Day, and he feels tired. Tired and weary. The ongoing investigation into the accident has been gnawing at him, and Arvin North has grilled him up, down, and sideways as they prepare to go into query sessions that involve panels of experts. The stress has been rough on Bill's sleep and on his digestion.

The men continue to further debate Maxine Trager and the way she's dishonoring her late husband by turning into what Ed is referring to derisively as a "hippie." This catches Bill's attention; he's not overly familiar with the term, but he knows that it's something akin to a beatnik, and that it's a lifestyle that isn't looked upon favorably by most of the people he knows.

Jay is defending her to the other guys when Jeanie Florence walks into the break room. A shaft of sunlight touches her long, brown hair, and she turns her head in the noisy room to smile at one of the other female engineers, who is pointing to an empty round table in the corner of the room. Bill's eyes follow her.

"Hey," Todd Roman says as he sits on Bill's other side. He follows Bill's gaze and then turns his attention back to the lunch that his wife, Barbie, has packed for him. As Todd quickly bites into a sandwich, he elbows Bill. "Booker," he says, pulling Bill's attention away from Jeanie. "Earth to Booker."

Bill gives him a half-hearted smile. "Sorry, were you talking to me? I was lost in thought."

Todd shoots him a look and leans in conspiratorially so that the other guys won't hear. "You know, women talk."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning Rebecca picked up on Jeanie acting differently when you were around, and she mentioned to Susan in the engineering department that she thought there was something going on between you two, and Susan went and, I don't know--I lost the trail there, man. But someone told someone who told someone else, and now here I am, just simple old Todd Roman, trying to mind my own business, and I'm overhearing that one of my teammates is kissing a female engineer in the stairwell."

Bill can feel the color drain from his face. He has no response. There is nothing in his head that he can formulate into a viable sentence, and he is quite sure that his face is giving him away entirely. To laugh would be to sound like a maniac, and so he just sits there, staring at the vending machine near their table, thinking of what a mess he’s making of his life with this one simple act.

“I’m sorry, Todd,” Bill says evenly. He packs up his lunch and latches the metal pail as he stands. “I’m really sorry that you had to hear that.”

Bill walks away. He does not turn back. He does not give himself the satisfaction of knowing how Todd responds to his apology, because he does not think he deserves to be absolved of the discomfort and guilt that he’s currently feeling.

* * *

Jo is the one who generally takes the evening walks. She and Frankie have been out together, wandering the neighborhood under the starry night sky for the past couple of years. She often comes home smelling of cigarette smoke and Bill suspects that it’s not just the scent of Frankie’s cigarette that’s clinging to Jo, but that she’s indulging in one of her own every so often. He doesn’t mind—not really. If Jo’s biggest secret is that she’s sharing a smoke with her best girlfriend, then Bill is a lucky man and he knows it.

Tonight the air is clear and warm. It’s nearly June and not quite dark yet. There are children playing in the driveways and front yards, and every few houses he passes, Bill sees a man he knows from NASA outside sitting on the front steps with a cigarette, watering his lawn in shorts and a white t-shirt, or retrieving the evening paper from where it landed when the paperboy tossed it from his canvas bag.

Without meaning to, Bill finds himself in front of the Tragers’ house. The garage door is up, and Maxine wanders out with a box in her arms. She is thin; it’s nearly impossible to tell that she was pregnant only three or four months ago.

“Mind if I help you with that?” Bill calls from the sidewalk, not wanting to startle her.

Maxine turns. She has a scarf tied around her head, and her face is free of makeup. She looks young and lovely. “Oh! Hello,” she says.

She and Bill have been introduced on a number of occasions, but they have never socialized or had dinner at one another’s houses, so she looks as though she isn’t sure what to call him.

“It’s Bill,” he says. “Bill Booker. Jo’s husband.”

“Yes, yes. Of course.” Maxine waves a hand as she smiles tentatively. “I know. I’m sorry, I was just lost in thought. How are you, Bill?”

He approaches with his hands in the pockets of his plaid shorts. “I’m well, Maxine. How are you?”

She’s standing in the midst of a garage full of boxes, many of them with things inked on this sides like “Ben’s Room,” or “Kitchen.” Maxine puts her fists on her hips and squints out at the last lingering light that hovers on the horizon.

“I’m alive, Bill. Six months ago I wasn’t sure that I would be, but here I am.”

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