Page 36 of Starlight & Dark Nights

"Of course," Jude agrees, showing Jo to the door. "I'll let you know."

After seeing Jo off, she goes back to the kitchen, puts the creamer in the refrigerator, and then walks across her front lawn to knock on Maxine's door. She needs to get to the bottom of this.

* * *

Maxine is sitting in the middle of her living room when Jude knocks and opens the door. Rather than answering, Maxine has simply called out: "Come in!"

Jude looks around at the front rooms of the house that the women had spent so much energy cleaning: it's a shambles again. Piles of laundry--she can't tell whether dirty or clean--dot the room, and Maxine is wearing a pair of giant denim overalls that cover her enormous stomach. They must have belonged to Derek, and Jude tries not to appear alarmed at the way her friend looks, with her messy hair pulled back haphazardly, and her bare feet tucked beneath her.

Wendy plays with a tangle of dolls and clothing in one corner of the room, and she's still wearing pajamas.

"Hi, Max," Jude says softly, approaching her as she might a scared, lost puppy. "How are you?"

Maxine looks up at her with big eyes. "I'm fine, Jude," she says firmly. "I've never been better. Well, not never--obviously I was better on my wedding day or on the day my children were born--I've been better lots of days." She stops her train of thought and laughs, letting her head fall back with abandon. "But I'm good. I'm finding my sense of purpose again." With great effort, Maxine puts her hands on her knees and tries to push herself to standing.

Jude rushes over and offers both hands, then braces herself to help Maxine get into a standing position. Once Maxine is up, Jude looks around at the piles of signs and papers that cover the living room floor. They’re all for the protests. She sees anti-space sentiments, and facts and figures about the amount being spent by NASA.

“Maxine…” Jude puts her hands on her hips as she surveys the scene. She wants to admonish her, to ask her friend what in the world she’s thinking. She wants to remind her that Derek would have been heartbroken to see his wife going against everything he’d worked for and believed in, but she knows—in this moment—that it’s Maxine who is heartbroken and trying to find her footing again. For herself, for her two children, and for the baby on the way, Maxine is trying to make sense of the split-second tragedy that took her husband from her.

So instead of asking her how she can possibly be indulging in this protest, Jude looks right at Maxine. “How are you?” she asks simply. “Are you sleeping?”

Maxine’s back is swayed slightly as she pushes her belly forward, fists on her hips to match Jude’s stance. She exhales through her mouth loudly. “I’m not sleeping amazingly well, no. I have a whole human rolling and kicking me all night, and I’m in a bed alone that I’ve always shared with my husband. I have a two-year-old who asks me every single day when her Daddy is coming home, no matter how many times I try to explain that he’s not, and my teenage son has suddenly stopped talking to me. So I’m actually not doing all that great, Jude. Thanks for asking.” Her tone is plaintive, not sarcastic, and in it, Jude can hear desperation.

Jude wants to help her. She wants to reach across the divide and offer a hand to her friend, but if she’s honest with herself, the idea of taking on Maxine’s problems and emotions makes her want to pour a drink. It’s weak to even think that; it feels like giving in. But Jude can’t help thinking it in her head, acknowledging the desire, and then letting it go. Having a drink has always been the thing that smooths over the rough edges and the jagged feelings, the thing that helps her to put a smile on her face and to act like she belongs.

But now, now life is changing. Now she knows the true danger and cost of giving in to the desire for a drink. She understands what she has to lose, and what’s at stake is far greater than the need for alcohol. Her life is filling up with activities that push out the bad thoughts, and the people around her need things from her that keep her busy: her girls need a hands-on mother; her husband needs a wife who doesn’t drink so much that she falls into the swimming pool and nearly drowns; her friends need her to be present and accountable and able to pitch in on projects, on events, and just to be more social in general. And, right now, Maxine needs Jude to put her own garbage aside and focus on helping to pull her friend to the shore.

“Max,” Jude says, reaching out both of her hands and holding them there until Maxine realizes that she’s waiting to take her hands and hold them. She lets Jude, and they stand there, looking at one another over the swirling mass of signs and papers protesting the work that their husbands—and their friends’ husbands—have always believed in. “I’m here for you, okay? I want to help you. I know it’s hard to ask, so I’m just going to do things unless you tell me not to. I’m going to come by and look after Wendy so that you can nap, and I’m going to make food and bring it over.” Maxine looks like she’s about to protest, so Jude shakes her hands and forces Maxine to relax her shoulders so that her arms are loose like wet noodles. “Just take a deep breath. No one is saying you’re a bad mother or unable to care for yourself, but we can’t always do it on our own.”

Maxine’s eyes well with tears. She nods. “It’s hard to do it alone.”

“Of course it is! Any big thing we take on by ourselves can seem impossible, but getting from day to day right now is not impossible. We’ve got this. A person can do anything if they have friends and support, and I’m not going to leave you here to figure this out alone.”

Maxine is now crying openly. She’s still holding Jude’s hands, and she nods as tears run down her cheeks. This scene has gotten little Wendy’s attention, and from her spot on the floor, she says, “Mama? Mama cry?”

Maxine looks down at her blonde baby girl and nods, still holding Jude’s hands. “Yes,” she says to Wendy. “Mama is sad. Mama cry.”

Wendy’s face contorts into one of sympathy and concern. “No cry, Mama,” she says, getting to her feet and rushing over to her mother. She wraps her arms around Maxine’s legs and looks up at her with big eyes as she wedges herself between Jude and Maxine. “Daddy come home soon.”

At this, Maxine breaks into big, open sobs and reaches down to touch the top of Wendy’s head. Her eyes go to Jude’s, as if to say, “See?”

Instead of saying anything, Jude puts one of her hands on Wendy’s head as well, and they stand there, connected like that, three humans braced against the vastness of the universe.

CHAPTER16

Bill

These damn protestorsare making everyone’s life harder. The scrutiny on NASA has ramped up, and the directive everyday inside Cape Kennedy is: eyes down, mouth shut, stay focused. Bill is trying his hardest to do this, but every time he drives past the knot of people who think that the work they’re doing is pointless and a waste of time and money, it feels like a sharp jab to his ribcage.

“Booker,” Vance Majors says as they pass one another in a hallway. Vance has his arms full of files. “How goes it?”

Bill stops in his tracks and they step to the side to stay out of other people’s way, standing closer to the wall. Bill runs a hand over his tired face. He just shaved that morning, but he can already feel the rough burn of stubble beneath his hand.

“It goes,” Bill says. “But man, these are tough times.”

Vance nods and looks away. “Sure are.” He seems like he wants to say more, but Bill has no clue what it might be. He knows from Jeanie that Vance had been the one to ask her about throwing Bill under the bus the previous summer, and that he’d wanted to go to Arvin North about Bill’s supposed frailty or instability or whatever the hell Vance wanted to call it. Of course, like any high-stakes job, being an astronaut has its pressures and it fosters competitiveness, so a part of Bill understands that Vance was only looking out for himself, but a smaller part of him likes to think that maybe Vance truly did have his back. Maybe he saw that Bill wasn’t in the right headspace for the mission and wanted to step in and give him an assist.

That seems far-fetched, given the intricacies of human nature, but Bill wants to like and respect Vance Majors, and he doesn’t want to let one incident drive a wedge between himself and any of the other members of his team.

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