Page 39 of Atmosphere

After a while, Joan started standing a little straighter, too.

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This Friday night, Joan handedFrances a magnet from Washington, D.C., where she had gone with the ASCANs and some astronauts to meet lawmakers at a state dinner. Joan had not said much at the event. She let some less reserved members of the group take center stage. But she was surprised to see just how easy it was for Lydia to step into the spotlight. Joan watched as she explained the mechanics of the space shuttle to a senator with such focus andverve that Joan realized Lydia could be a very good instructor one day, long after her astronaut career was over.

“I also got you a replica of the Apollo LEM, but it shattered in my bag on the way back,” Joan told Frances.

“You skipped two Fridays in a row,” Barbara said. “We miss you.”

“I missed you, too. But I will be here for the next few weeks, all right? So no one needs to worry about me being away for a little while.”

Frances ate her Chinese food. “And I can come over every week again?”

“If she can find time in her very busy schedule,” Barbara said.

Joan tried to catch her eye, but Barbara wasn’t looking at her.

“Okay,” Frances said.

Frances never pushed Joan, never tried to make her feel guilty. Joan was not sure if that was because Frances was nothing like Barbara, or if she just hadn’t figured out the power she held yet. But there was something about Frances that made Joan believe she was better—held more goodness—than anyone she had ever met. That kind of faith was a lot to put on a six-year-old girl. Joan tried to keep it in check. To be ready to accept all the ways that Frances would grow and change and blossom into her full imperfection.

Joan would love her no matter what. Even if she grew up to be exactly like Barbara. Joan would love her then, too. Without hesitation. Whether she had to work at it or not, she would do it forever.

“We learned about gravity in school,” Frances said. “My teacher said that astronauts float, and I told her she was wrong. I said, ‘My aunt is an astronaut, and she doesn’t float.’ ”

“Frances, that’s not—” Barbara started.

Joan looked at Frances. “You’re right, I don’t. But if I go up into space, I will.”

“You’ll float?”

“Have they taught you yet in school how gravity works?”

“It pushes us down?”

“Itpullsus. Everything that has mass has some amount of gravitational pull. So think about this—Actually, wait, come with me.”

Joan got up from the table and walked into her bedroom, looking for something heavy. She wanted a bowling ball but settled for a few rolls of quarters. She tore the comforter off her bed.

“What are you doing?” Barbara said. Frances was smiling.

“Okay, look.” Joan threw the rolls of quarters onto the mattress. “The quarters are heavy, right? They have mass.”

Frances nodded, but then Barbara did, too, and it stopped Joan for a second.

“Okay, look at the mattress over here,” Joan said, pointing to an empty space. “It’s flat. It’s a flat plane, right?”

“Right,” Barbara said.

“But look over here, by the quarters,” Joan said. She pointed to the indentation the quarters made in the mattress, the way the rolls sank into the mattress around them in a circle. “If the mattress is the fabric of space, do you see how the mass of the quarters bends the space around it? It’s creating gravity. Hold on.”

She searched in her freezer and found a bag of peas. She opened it up and took one out and returned to Barbara and Frances.

“So if I put a pea where it’s flat, what happens?”

“Nothing,” Frances said.

“Right, it stays put. Nothing near it hasenough massto pull it anywhere. But now,” Joan said, placing a pea just outside the quarters. “What happens when I put one within the gravitational force of the quarters?”

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