Joan began taking the throw pillows off the sofa. “Okay, if you’re sure…” It was the easiest trick with Frances: if you let her choose, she’d choose the responsible option. But if you told Frances she couldn’t do something, you’d get a battle for the ages. Joan had tried to explain this to Barbara, but Barbara didn’t want to hear it.

Joan extended the sofa bed, and Frances got settled in, grabbing her book.

“Joanie,” Frances said. “I love your new apartment. I wish I lived here.”

“Aw, babe, you can stay here anytime you want. It’s your place, too. Always.”

Joan kissed her on the forehead and turned out the lights in the living room. She went into her bedroom.

And then, instead of grabbing her own book, she grabbed her sketchpad and a pencil. For the next hour, she tried to draw her own face.

It was late August and Joan was standing by herself in Steve and Helene’s backyard, watching Steve turn off the smoker while his daughters ran around the yard trying to catch fireflies. On the table next to her were the very few leftovers from the spread of brisket, macaroni salad, coleslaw, baked beans, and biscuits. People had not yet cut into the buttermilk pies or the Texas sheet cake. Joan was trying to remember the last time she’d eaten dinner alone. It had been far too long.

In their training, they had been split into two teams. The Red Team, led by a military pilot ASCAN named Duke Patterson, consisted of Donna, Harrison, Vanessa, Marty, and some of the pilots Joan still did not know well yet.

Joan’s team, the Blue Team, was captained by Hank and included her, Griff, Lydia, Ted, and their own group of pilots, including Jimmy Hayman, whom Joan disliked more every time she spoke to him.

The Red Team would have instruction in the classroom in the morning and then head out in the T-38s in the afternoon. Joan’s team would do the opposite.

Their days were packed. Between the lessons on engineering, oceanography, geography, anatomy, and other topics, Joan was absorbing so much information alongside her fellow ASCANs that it only made sense to study after hours with them, too. She and Griff had spent so many nights in his apartment, going over country borders and emergency medical procedures, that they now knew each other’s takeout orders without having to ask. Every other evening there was some get-together, either at the Outpost or Frenchie’s. Joan couldn’t remember, even in college, being out so late, so often, with so many people.

The only thing she was actually enjoying right now at this party was the nearly empty beer bottle in her hand. She’d never tried a beer until Donna and Griff insisted. She’d been surprised to find that Coors Light was delicious.