Chapter Ten

On Monday, Nova awoke extra early again, but instead of slipping up to the attic she sat on the floor beside the wooden crate with JOANIE ROSE painted on it and pulled out her toys. She hadn’t touched most of them since the last time she’d played with Bridget because they used to play together and Nova wasn’t sure she could figure out pretending on her own. Bridget was always the one who came up with the ideas for their games, the one who assigned roles and decided what would happen to their little astronauts or aliens.

Even though she wasn’t as good at imagining as Bridget was, Nova needed to pretend. She needed to feel the way she felt when they’d play pretend.

Mostly, they played alone. But for the months they lived in the temporary home with the seven other kids, Bridget let everybody join. Nova had just turned ten. Bridget was almost fifteen. They were exploring in the woods behind the horse pasture when they found the tree house.

“It’s perfect, Nova!” Bridget shouted from inside. Nova was on the ground, too cautious to climb. “This can be our space station!”

They returned to the house to gather the other kids. Four of them were in foster care too, but the twins and the toddler were the family’s biological kids.

“I’ll set the scene,” said Bridget, once everyone was gathered at the base of the tree house. “It’s 1969.” She pointed at the twins. “You two are Ground Control in Houston. Me, Nova, Suzanne, and Anthony are headed to the moon. You two”—she pointed to the oldest two, who were eleven and twelve—“are President Nixon and First Lady Pat, watching from the White House Communications Room.”

“What ’bout me?” asked the toddler, who was still in diapers.

“You? You’re…um…you’re very important! You’re in charge of…um…you’re…why, you’re the Nixons’ dog, of course! Checkers! Good dog, Checkers.”

The toddler barked. Bridget patted his head. He was a good dog.

“Okay,” she said. “I’m Buzz Aldrin. Nova, you’re Neil Armstrong, first man to set foot on the moon. Anthony, you’re Michael Collins, the one who stayed on the spacecraft. And Suzanne, you’re…um…Sally Ride.”

“What?” Suzanne put her hands on her hips. “Sally Ride wasn’t on the moon mission. She just went to space last month!”

“It’s pretend! Geez!” Bridget let out a frustrated puff of air. She hated it when anyone questioned her during Space Play. “Wanna play Checkers’s groomer instead? No? Then be Sally Ride. This tree house is Apollo 11. Armstrong? Collins? Ride? Up here.”