At his station, Nathaniel had a pile of reports and was gnawing his way through a pencil. Bubbles had a similar binder in front of him—though, given that it was his baby we were about to launch, that wasn’t surprising.
Not everyone was working, of course. Parker was up in the skybox with Clemons, hobnobbing with the journalists. Today, he didn’t have a trace of a limp.
What the hell had it been? Not polio, for certain. Mama would have known what it was, but I didn’t have anyone I could ask without it getting back to him. Maybe I could inquire with the doctor when I went in to see him for my Miltown refill.
“Again?!” Carmouche leaned back in his chair with a groan. “Someday … I swear that someday I will win.”
Helen crossed her arms and smirked at him. “It is only check. You still have a chance.”
He harrumphed and leaned forward to stare at the board.
I lowered my pencil. “If you just want to win, you could play against me.”
Shaking his head, Carmouche continued to glare at the board. He reached forward for a pawn, glanced at Helen, and pulled his hand back. Under his breath, he muttered in French about either Helen’s parentage or the options for play. Either way, it sounded irritable.
“Est-ce qu’elle vous bat de nouveau?” Parker walked up behind me and I flinched in my seat. I swear he did that on purpose.
“Oui. Il est l’ordre naturel, je pense.” Carmouche sighed and tapped his fingers on the edge of the board.
“Il n’y a rien de naturel.” Parker looked down at me. “York. Clemons wants you.”
“And he sent you down all those stairs for little ol’ me?” I am, at times, a complete idiot. Antagonizing him was the last thing I needed to do. I pushed back my chair, aware that Helen and Carmouche were staring at us. “Thank you.”
I followed him across the floor of Mission Control. Across the room, Nathaniel had his head buried in reports, and didn’t look up. “Any idea why?”
Parker pulled the door open, but did not hold it for me. I caught it, following him into the stairwell. He bounded up the stairs two at a time, as if he had something to prove.
“Feeling better, I see.” I chased him up the stairs, grateful for the time I’d spent preparing for the astronaut tests. Even in a skirt and heels, I could run up a flight of stairs without getting winded.
At the top of the stairs, Parker waited beside the door with a face of stone. He was a handsome man, I’d grant him that. He and Nathaniel were both blondes with bright blue eyes, but where my husband was lean and angular, Parker had the “ideal” physique of a movie star, with a square jaw and cleft chin.
When I came up alongside him, he put a hand on the doorknob and suddenly smiled as if we were the best of friends. The speed with which he turned on the charm left me chilled.
Parker threw the door open, holding it for me to walk through. Of course he would hold the door and smile, now that there were witnesses. The room was full of astronauts, their wives, and reporters here to cover the launch of a new class of spacecraft.
Clemons turned, one of his cigars smoldering in his hand. “There she is. Gentlemen, meet Elma York. One of our computers, and responsible for the calculations that identified the potential of the Sirius engine. Dr. York is also our newest astronaut.”
The room went hot. Cold. Hot. I must have misheard. Surely they would tell me that in private first.
Flashbulbs went off. Blinding me. I couldn’t breathe.
Astronaut.
The room spun around me like I was strapped in a centrifuge chair. Breath pressed out. My vision darkened at the edges.
Astronaut.
3.14159265359 … Someone said my name. If I fainted, what would people think? Parker would like that.
Astronaut.
Why the hell wouldn’t they tell me that in private first? You didn’t blindside someone with a thing like that, unless you wanted to watch them flounder …
Parker. Parker must have suggested this.
Someone said my name again, and I turned to the voice. The room was a blur of sound and light. There wasn’t enough air. Keep your eyes open. Keep talking. This was just another test.
“Gentlemen…” I fought gravity to raise my hands. “Gentlemen, if you all talk at once, I can’t hear you.”
They ignored me and kept shouting over each other. “When will you go into space?” “What does your husband think about this?” “How does it feel to be an Astronette?”
That voice belonged to a round, balding man with his tie pulled loose.
“An astronette? That sounds as if I should be doing kicks in a chorus line.” The laughter gave me a boost to find a smile somewhere. “So, please, I’m just an astronaut.”
Just an astronaut. Ha. I was a goddamned astronaut. Not that they would print that.
“Now, now … you’re the Lady Astronaut, from Mr. Wizard.” Parker smiled genially beside me. “We wouldn’t want anyone to forget that.”
“Is she the only lady astronaut?” Another reporter fired at Clemons.
Damn Parker. That moniker was going to stick, and it would make sure we were always second class to the men.
Clemons waved his cigar, leaving contrails of smoke. “No, she is not. But you’ll meet the rest of them next week at our press conference. I just wanted to give you a preview of the talent and beauty of our lady astronauts.”
Goddamn it. I smiled until my teeth hurt. “Well … this astronaut has some calculations to do.”
“Of course.” Clemons waved me back to the door. “Sirius is waiting.”
The reporters hollered for some more photos, so I had to stand there, smiling, between Parker and Clemons. Both men beamed at the camera, and in the pictures, we all looked like the best of friends.
Then Parker held the door for me, as if he were a gentleman. I stepped into the stairwell and the door shut behind us.
His smile dropped.
“This must really rankle you.” I started down the stairs ahead of him. “After saying you’d keep me grounded.”
His laughter bounced down the stairs after me. “Please. If Clemons hadn’t hired you, it would have been a public relations nightmare. The other women? They’ve earned it. You’re just a publicity stunt.”
Bastard. My heart galloped as if I’d run up five flights of stairs instead of down one. I slammed the door open and stalked onto the floor of Mission Control. A few heads lifted as my heels clicked across the floor.
The reporters were probably still watching. Thank God my back was to them. Whatever Parker said in the stairwell, I was still an astronaut. I’d been selected, and, by God, I was going to go into space. Publicity stunt? Ha. I was going to be the best damn student they had.
Back at my table, the tableau was much as it had been before. Carmouche had evidently made a move, because he was slumped in his chair, shaking his head.
“Did you lose again?”
“No. But she has me in check again. A different one, at least.”
Helen studied the board. “I will try to put you out of your misery quickly.”
“The offer to play against me still stands.” I settled into my chair, smoothing my skirt to wipe the sweat off my palms.
Helen nodded to the skybox, from which all the reporters were staring at us. “What was that all about?”
This was good news, despite Parker, so I smiled, and in smiling found the joy that should have been there already. “I—I made the cut. I’m an astronaut.” Laughter bubbled out of me. “I’m an astronaut.”
For a moment, Helen’s mouth dropped open and then she jumped up. Grinning, she ran around the table and swept me into a hug. “I knew it!” She straightened. “Nathaniel! Your wife astronaut!”