So it came as a huge shock to the men in the department, many of whom fancied themselves secretly destined for victory, to see that the woman they’d overlooked was lapping them in a race they did not know had started.

Joan looked around the room, put her drink down, and left her own goodbye party early.

—

The second thing Joan did was tell her family she was going to be an astronaut candidate.

“It’s all because you suggested I apply,” Joan said to Barbara over the phone.

“I did?”

“Because of the commercial.”

“Oh, right,” Barbara said. “Well, you’re welcome.”

Her mother and father flew out from Pasadena. They all went out to a celebratory dinner, at which Barbara mentioned multiple times that she hoped this didn’t mean Joan was moving to Clear Lake. After all, Frances needed her close by. Joan explained three separate times that it did mean she was moving to Clear Lake. There were apartments right next to the Johnson Space Center. It was only thirty minutes south of her current place, and regardless, she would never in a million years miss a second she could spend with Frances.

And then Joan leaned over to Frances and kissed the part in her hair at the top of her head.

There were things Joan had done with Frances since Frances was a baby—turning her upside down, carrying her on her shoulders, throwing her on the bed—that Frances was too big for now. But Joan would always be able to kiss the top of her head. Even if she had to get on a stool, one day, to do it.

When Joan and Barbara were little, they’d played make-believe for hours. Joan was always a doctor or a nurse or a teacher. Barbara would pretend to be a singer, a ballet dancer, or a figure skater. But once Barbara could see adolescence approaching, there was no more pretending. She went out in search of things Joan knew nothing about.

Though four years younger, Barbara snuck out to her first party before Joan, had her first kiss before Joan, had her first drink before Joan. What could Joan offer someone so much more worldly than her? How could Barbara look up to someone so far behind?

A few years later, when Joan was pursuing her PhD at Caltech and Barbara was in her junior year of college at the University of Houston, Barbara called Joan late one night, sobbing.

She’d gotten pregnant.

“You’re the only one I could call,” Barbara said.

Joan could barely believe what she was hearing. Not that Barbara had found herself here—in fact, Barbara had already gotten pregnant and miscarried once as a teenager. The shock was that Barbara had called Joan.

“What do I do?” Barbara asked.