The first shuttle mission was scheduled for just over three months away.

Originally predicted to launch as early as 1977, the inaugural orbital flight had been delayed multiple times. The development of the shuttle had not been without its challenges. There were issues with the main engines during testing. The shuttle’s complicated carbon and silica thermal tiles were so temperamental that entire portions of them had repeatedly fallen off. But the engineers kept at it.

Two days ago, the space shuttle Columbia had left the Vehicle Assembly Building to be ushered over to the launchpad at Kennedy Space Center.

STS-1 was on the horizon.

Hank was pulling bottles out of the coolers and ice buckets and passing them around as if he hadn’t a care in the world.

One of the many things Joan had learned during their flights was that Hank was the recipient of a very large trust fund. It was a fact that Hank wore with complexity.

He had mentioned it on one of their flights, after they’d landed in Nevada somewhere and were getting a bite to eat at a roadside stand. Joan had asked him why he’d joined the military in the first place.

“I think I wanted to do something no man in my family had done before,” he’d said, biting into his sandwich.

“No one in your family served in either of the World Wars? Or even Vietnam?”

Hank shook his head. “They found a way out.”

Joan raised her eyebrows. “And here you are,” she said. “About to fly to space with your own two hands.”

“God willing, I suppose so.”

It was easier and easier for Joan to understand why Donna would love him. But the further she got into her training, the harder it got for Joan to understand why Donna would tie herself down to someone at all.

“My father is a mathematician,” Joan told Hank. “Very left-brained and analytical. So I’m not sure I fell as far from the tree as you did.”

“But I bet your mother was a homemaker,” Hank said.

“She was, she is,” Joan said.

“So you’ve carved a new path for yourself, too.”

“Yeah, maybe that is true.” Joan finished her sandwich. “Hey, I wanted to say thank you.”

“What for?”

“It’s not easy to get a pilot to give consistent time to us backseaters,” Joan said.

Hank nodded.

“I know you’re helping out Donna, too,” she added, and then, so he didn’t have to respond, she kept going: “Vanessa’s got Steve, but Lydia, Harrison, and Griff aren’t having an easy time getting their hours in. So I just wanted to say thank you. You’ve been a great teacher.”

Hank smiled. “Well, I’m glad for it. I enjoy these rides with you, Goodwin. You’re one of the good nerds.”

Joan laughed.