Page 24 of Atmosphere

“I love Paul Newman. Who wouldn’t want to be Paul Newman?”

Joan shrugged and laughed. “I mean, yeah, when you put it that way. Who wouldn’t?”

Why had she been annoyed? She couldn’t remember.

Duke’s wife, Kris, opened the sliding glass doors to the living room and Steve’s dog, a blue heeler named Apollo, came running out and pawing at Vanessa’s leg.

“Oops!” Kris said. “Sorry!”

“No,” Vanessa said, crouching down to pet him. “You’re all right, aren’t ya, buddy?”

Apollo rolled onto his back, and Vanessa scratched his belly.

“Apollo, you make me wish I could have a dog,” she said.

“Why can’t you?” Joan asked.

Vanessa looked up at her. “One day soon, I’m hoping to strap myself to a rocket and bounce out of the atmosphere. I’m not going to be able to take care of a dog.”

“Oh,” Joan said. “Okay. But couldn’t you just get a dog sitter when you go on a mission?”

“I’m not going to put a dog through that. I’ll just come over here and pet Apollo,” Vanessa said and then rubbed his back and gave him a good pat.

“Vanessa!” Steve called from the side yard. “We need you! Antonio’s Dodge is stalled.”

Vanessa raised her eyebrows. “Come on, boy,” she said. And then she smiled at Joan. “Bye, Jo.”

Joan laughed as they walked away. She could leave now. But instead, she sat on the rough concrete, pulled her long skirt up to her knees, and put her feet in the pool. It was so warm, it felt like stepping into a bath.

She watched as Lydia floated by her with her eyes closed, hogging the only pool float. Lydia had refused to share with anyone enough times that no one asked anymore.

Griff swam up to Joan. “I have obtained very important, very confidentialinsiderinformation,” he said as he pushed his hair back off his face. “And if you play your cards right, I will read you in.”

Joan looked at him. She’d long ago noticed he was objectively handsome. But she could see now that he’d probably had to grow into his features. And she wondered if that had made him an ugly duckling. She loved ugly ducklings.

“Lay it on me,” Joan said. Maybe she had a bit of a buzz. She must have.

“Do you know Duke’s real name?”

“I did suspect it wasn’t Duke.”

“It’sChris,” Griff said. The pool lights had kicked on a few moments ago, just as the sun was setting. Griff’s smile was lit from below.

“Oh, wow,” Joan said.

“Yeah, so they are Chris and Kris,” Griff said, pulling closer to the pool’s edge, hovering close to her.

“So he let her be Kris,” Joan said. “And he took on a nickname.That is…that is very touching.” She looked up at Duke and Kris, standing by the sliding glass doors with Steve’s wife, Helene.

It was obvious how well Duke and Kris fit together. Duke was quiet and strong. Kris was small and spirited, with big hair. Duke told the stories and Kris hit the punch lines.

“No, she knew what she was doing,” Duke was saying, with a smile.

“Oh, I absolutely did!” Kris added.

Helene laughed.

Joan was always curious what it was like on the inside of a marriage. What happened when it was just the two of them at home, Duke and Kris? Did she have to ask him for permission to buy new clothes? Did he sometimes tell her he didn’t like what she made for dinner? Joan tried to ward off the sadness that always came when she pictured a marriage—any marriage.

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