Atmosphere: A Love Story By Taylor Jenkins Reid - 39

Joan spent all of her time when she wasn’t training for her mission taking shifts in Mission Control.

It was the highlight of her days and nights.

She loved the hum of the room, getting to know the scientists at each console. It was like being surrounded by mission specialists. All nerds, no cowboys.

But it also meant she’d been packing her schedule too tight. After work tonight, she had to drop Frances’s books off at Barbara’s, and she was already late to meet Donna and Griff.

They were supposed to meet at the bar, and while Joan did not particularly want to go, she felt needed. She had to be there to order a club soda and then let Donna swap it for her vodka and tonics. That way Donna could seem like she was drinking and no one would pick up on the fact that she was almost six months pregnant. Vanessa and Joan were the only ones at NASA who knew other than Hank.

Surprisingly, Donna wasn’t showing much. It was certainly concealable in a flight suit or a baggy shirt. Which was good. Because the moment the higher-ups at NASA learned she was pregnant, they were going to restrict what Donna could do, even if there was no medical reason for it.

Namely, they wouldn’t let her fly in the T-38s anymore, which meant she wouldn’t qualify for missions until after she had the baby. Donna getting pregnant was going to directly and indirectly ensure that she did not get assigned to a crew for years. Meanwhile, Hank was going up in less than six months.

Joan really wanted to get to the bar in time to order Donna’s drink. It felt like an honor to be trusted with such a secret, and she wanted to come through. But she was already running late when Barbara pulled her into the formal living room to have a “chat.”

“What is it, Barb?” Joan said. She did not sit down.

“Please sit,” Barbara said, sitting down on a white leather upholstered sofa in front of a glass coffee table.

Joan sat.

“I owe you an apology for something.”

Joan tried not to cock her head and look at her sideways, but she had middling success.

“I don’t think I’ve given you enough credit for everything that you have done for Frances and me these past few years. Well, no,” Barbara said. “Not the past few years. Her entire life.”

It was like being handed a gift you had wanted desperately five years ago. One that Joan had taught herself how not to yearn for anymore. And, therefore, did not know what to do with now.

“Oh,” Joan said.

“When she was born, I was so lost. I was so angry,” Barbara said. “I was angry at the world for finding myself in that position. And I . . . I knew, in those moments, that I could rely on you. I have relied on you for such a long time, and I think, well . . . Daniel has helped me see that I was embarrassed. For needing you. So I acted like it was nothing. That was wrong of me. I’m sorry.”

“Wow,” Joan said. “That’s—”

“And you have been an extra parent to Frances in many ways. Ways not every sister would have been. So thank you. Because of that, I want to include you in our news.”

Joan could sense something was coming, and she felt stupid for not seeing the punch before it landed.

“Frances is going to boarding school.”

Joan felt the breath pulled out of her lungs. “What? Barb, no.”

“Yes, she is.”

“She’s not even in junior high.”

“Some of these schools start in sixth grade. She’ll begin the school year at Landingham Prep after Labor Day. It’s in Dallas. Lots of kids go there and love it.”

“Why are you doing this?”

“Because the current situation is not working.”

“You have to give it time.”

Barbara shook her head with a patience that enraged Joan.

“I cannot believe you are doing this to her,” Joan said.

“Plenty of children go to boarding school, Joan. Don’t be dramatic.”

“She is ten years old. She’s young for her grade. She’s not ready.”

“She’s certainly old enough to cause trouble.”

“She’s hurting and confused about you getting married and her life changing. This is not the time, even if boarding school were right for her.”

“Joan, please—”

Joan’s heart rate was rising. “And the worst part is, you know better.”

“I know better? Excuse me. You have no idea how she speaks to him, Joan. It’s unacceptable. And that’s not even getting into how she speaks to me. Daniel is honestly worried about her. That she needs some discipline. Maybe I did wrong by her, up until now. I felt so guilty about being a single mother that I babied her. She needs structure, and she’s not accepting the structure we are giving her. So this is how she’s going to get it. It’s good. It’s good for her.”

“Does she want to go?”

“Of course she wants to go. What do you take me for?”

It sounded impossible to Joan. She marched right up to Frances’s bedroom. Frances was sitting at her desk, finishing her homework.

“Your mother told me you’re going to Landingham. Is this what you want, babe?”

“Yeah,” Frances said. “Mom says there’s a lot of other kids there. I’d eat dinner with my friends every night.”

Joan looked at her and sighed. How could Joan make any better argument? Frances had been eating dinner alone most nights.

“I’ll have a roommate, which I think will be fun. And we’ll go on field trips all the time. I read in the brochure that we get to go to Washington, D.C., in seventh grade.”

Joan nodded. “You’re sure you want to do this?”

“I’ll miss you, but Mom says that I will be back a lot of the weekends, like every month. And I was thinking maybe a few of them could be at your place?”

“Of course. Of course.”

“I’m excited.”

How had Barbara done this so masterfully? Joan had no way to stop it.

Joan put on a smile. “I know you’re old now, but can I still kiss you on the top of your head?” she asked. “This once?”

Frances laughed and then bent her head down.

Joan kissed the part in Frances’s hair.

“I love you, Frances,” Joan said.

“I love you, too.”

Joan shut the door. She tried to regain her composure before going downstairs.

“So that’s it?” Joan said as she put her hand on the door handle. “The decision has been made? There will be no further discussion?”

“I appreciate everything you’ve done for us. I really do. Like I said, I know I haven’t always made that clear. So thank you. But my child is unhappy. I want her to find a place in the world where she feels she belongs.”

Joan wanted to take her hands and thrust them into Barbara’s shoulders, to knock her down on the ground. She wanted to yell at her. Shake some sense into her. She wanted to go upstairs and tell Frances that she deserved a home where she felt she belonged.

Instead, she gritted her teeth and walked out the door.

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