When Steve and Helene showed up with their kids, everyone cheered. Vanessa gave her seat to Steve; Joan gave hers to Helene. Hank and Griff gave theirs to the kids. And Joan smiled, to watch them.

Once again, there was a table in the center of the room and most of her group stood on the edges, looking on. Joan looked at Griff and smiled. “It’s just like the all-astronauts meetings,” Griff said.

Joan laughed. “You always know what’s in my mind before I do,” she said.

They all shared pecan pie and banana pudding. Vanessa let Frances have both when she thought Joan wasn’t looking. Joan smiled and shook her head at her. Vanessa laughed.

Griff taught Frances a magic trick. Hank told the kids knock-knock jokes.

Later, when Joan and Lydia were doing the dishes, Lydia thanked Joan for her advice.

“Things are going really well with this team,” she told Joan as she cleared plates. “And I’m not sure that would be the case if it weren’t for you.”

“Well, I’m glad,” Joan said, beginning to load the dishwasher.

“You’re…” Lydia said. “You’re my best friend here, Joan.”

Joan looked at her and then touched Lydia’s arm, but Lydia did not look at her.

“You’re loading the plates wrong,” Lydia finally said, taking a plate from Joan’s hand and pushing her out of the way. “Who taught you how to load a dishwasher?”

Joan shook her head and turned to see that Vanessa had caught the whole interaction. Vanessa raised her eyebrows and shrugged. Joan laughed.

When it got to be late, and it was time to go, Joan found Donna in Thea’s room, rocking her to sleep. Donna seemed so content, as if she had everything she’d ever wanted.

Joan did not want to go up to space again. And perhaps that had made room for Frances. But Donna would not need room. Donna would find a way. One day, Donna would come home from space and tell her daughter all about it.

Donna looked up at Joan in the doorway and smiled. Joan waved her good night.

It was the first Thanksgiving Joan had ever had without her parents and Barbara.

But it was the first time she’d ever felt this at home.

—

Later that night, Vanessa walked Joan and Frances into Joan’s apartment. Frances headed to brush her teeth and get ready for bed. Boarding school had abruptly matured her. Frances now did so many things on her own, insisted on reading books that struck Joan as perhaps a bit too advanced for her age, and had started wearing shorter skirts and dresses, almost never wearing T-shirts. But she still wanted to be tucked in. And for that, Joan was grateful.

“I’ll be in in a second,” she said to Frances as Frances headed to the bathroom.