by JoAnn Durgin
“Then that whole photog thing was a big ruse? You two are hopeless, but sit down, anyway.” Caty motioned to the table and set about getting snacks.
“No, that was real,” Carson assured her. “They had these huge cameras and everything. One guy almost fell out the car window trying to get a shot of Will’s profile.”
“Then tinted windows on the Mercedes might be advisable, too,” Caty said. “No matter what brought you two to my doorstep tonight, I’m glad you’re here.”
“Same here.” Will grunted. “Where are those games? Have you unpacked them?”
An hour later, Carson won their rousing game of Parcheesi, and Caty accepted Will’s challenge to play a game of chess. Quickly enough, she was reminded why she rarely played this particular game with Will. He and Sam were the family champs.
Their younger brother guzzled his can of Diet Coke and munched on chips while reading her most recent copy of Kindred Spirit, the magazine produced by Dallas Theological Seminary. She couldn’t believe the baby of the family would graduate with his Master of Theology degree from DTS at the end of the year, another important milestone in their family. Combined with Will’s mission, and her move back to Houston, it was shaping up to be quite the eventful year.
Will took precise bites of an apple and worked on his third water bottle while analyzing the chess board. This brother took everything in life seriously, even games.
Caty resisted rolling her eyes after Will refused more snacks. “I hardly think a handful of chips and a Coke will negate your survival training, Commander Lewis.”
“You’d be surprised how easy it is to slip off the diet. I can’t take any chances. Especially now.” Will’s voice was resolute and I take no prisoners firm. She almost slapped his hand when he took another measured bite, but who was she to question an astronaut-in-training?
Getting up from the table to get a second Diet Coke for Carson, Caty gave Will a light pat on the back instead. “I admire your fierce determination.” Nothing would jeopardize his shuttle mission, including his diet. He’d worked too long and hard to blow it now.
Carson shot him a look. “Yeah, blowing up that spacesuit from eating junk food wouldn’t be good, especially for Commander Lewis.”
“If only the people of America knew the next shuttle commander spends his evenings playing Parcheesi and chess with his brother and sister,” Caty mused. “Not that it’s a bad thing.”
Carson closed the magazine. “Don’t let that get around or it’ll spoil Will’s whole sexy image.”
Will ignored that comment and concentrated on his next chess move. Tiny lines showed around his eyes. At thirty-eight, he was the youngest shuttle commander in NASA history, and he’d been training extra hard in recent months.
She might joke and tease him, but Caty was so proud of him she felt like she could burst. Whenever she thought of her brother blasting into space on Pursuit in a few short months, she teared up and usually allowed the tears to fall—except when in Will’s presence. As the time of his mission neared, she prayed she’d be able to keep her emotions in check. Mission Control better have plenty of tissues on hand. Wow, she got dizzy just thinking about it.
The entire family—including Rachel and Emily—had attended three preparatory sessions at NASA over a period of five days last November, almost a year before Will’s scheduled launch. They’d been advised of the potential risks for the shuttle crew—emotionally, mentally, and physically—both pre-launch and after their return to Earth.
Watching Will now, Caty bit her lip as she thought of the enormity of his mission. To some, the work and experiments they’d perform on the International Space Station would be routine, but the knowledge they’d gain while earning a place in the history books was nothing short of awe-inspiring. Who could possibly call that routine? Routine was driving into the city for her job every morning, Monday to Friday. Routine was going to Mom and Dad’s for dinner once a week. Calling Sam or Lexa to check in with them every few days.
“Will, promise me you’re getting enough rest.”
A few seconds of silence passed. After making his next move on the chessboard, Will finally spoke. “I try, but my body doesn’t always cooperate at this stage of the training.” He started to push aside dark strands of his hair.
Catching his hand, Caty gently brushed them away from his forehead. “I hope you know how proud I am of you. How proud we all are.”
Will’s gaze settled on her. “Thanks, Caty.”
“I’m sure you’ll get that hair cut before the mission.”
“Affirmative. NASA requirement. I’m letting it grow until they cut it.”
She checked the back of Will’s head and smiled. “You have the beginning of a curl on the nape of your neck. Girls like that.”
“They do?” That made Carson sit up straighter. Popping another potato chip in his mouth, he eyed Will. “So, tell me something. Is it true your body ages faster while you’re up there at the International Space Station?”
“That would be a negative, Carson. We actually age slower when we’re at the ISS because of gravitational time dilation.”
“Layman’s terms, please.” Carson pushed the bowl of chips aside and then planted his elbows on the table.
“Space time isn’t flat, it’s curved,” Will said. “It can also be warped by matter and energy.”
“Not helping.” Caty feigned a yawn.
“Let me see if I can explain it so you earthlings will understand.”
“Right. With our feeble brains and all.” Carson ducked when Will tossed a chip at him. Grabbing it from the table, he chomped it down.
“Time moves slower as gravity increases,” Will said. “Technically, your head ages faster than your feet. For instance, time passes faster for people living on a mountain than those living at sea level. Then there’s relative velocity time dilation which means that time moves slower as you move faster.”
When Carson made snoring sounds, Caty placed a finger over his lips to shush him. Then she crossed her arms on the top of the table. “Tell us more, Astronaut Will.”
In his element, Will grinned. “In the ISS, we’ll be floating 260 miles above where the Earth’s gravitational pull is weaker than at the surface. Time should speed up for us relative to people on the ground, but this is the key: we’ll be whizzing around the Earth at nearly five miles per second. Which means time slows down for astronauts relative to people on the Earth’s surface.”
Will smiled, looking from Caty to Carson and back. “Got all that?”
“Einstein had it right all along,” Caty observed. “Time is relative.”
“Time is weird, and you scientists like to throw around the word ‘relative,’” Carson added. “If my pea brain understands it correctly—because velocity time dilation has a bigger effect than gravitational time dilation—when you return to Earth after all that whizzing around in space, you’ll be a marginal fraction of a second younger than if you’d stayed right here in Houston all along?”
“Excellent, little brother. Not bad for a pea brain.” Will high-fived Carson and then finished his apple.
“Is whizzing a scientific term? I always thought it meant something else.” When Will and Caty both looked at him, Carson laughed. Jumping up from his chair, he grabbed the trash can from beneath the sink and held it up. “Okay, space man. See if you can put that apple core in here.” He winked at Caty. “Let’s see how good he is at aiming. That has to be a very important skill for a space shuttle commander.”
Will ignored Carson and motioned to her. “It’s your move. I’m waiting.”
“At least promise me you’re dating every now and then and getting out among the human race,” Caty said. “We’re not such a bad sort, you know.”
“I’m here with you and Carson now. And you’re here and not out on some hot date.”
Sitting back in her chair, Caty frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I figured you’d have a cowboy dangling on a st
ring by now.”
“What? Like a puppet?” She made her next play and immediately recognized her fatal mistake. Unless he was off his game, Will wouldn’t miss it, either. “I can’t think about a relationship right now.”
“And checkmate.” With a triumphant smile, Will sat back in his chair.
“No fair,” Caty protested. “Did you bring up that whole dangling cowboy image to distract me? No wonder you wanted to play this game. I should have remembered how you used to mop the floor with the rest of us.”
“Except for Sam.” Was that resignation in Will’s tone? Ah yes, there was always more of a rivalry between those two, although more on Will’s part than Sam’s. With all her brother had accomplished in his life—and still had yet to accomplish—why would he feel inferior to Sam? Not that it was a competition.
Carson nodded. “Even I know better than to get in the middle of that one.”
“Sam has his talents, you have yours”—Caty angled her head at Will—“and so does the young one here. Now, let’s get back to the subject of your romantic pursuits.”
Will blew out a sigh. “I can’t think about dating right now.”
“Because you have more important things to do.”
“Yes, I do, as a matter of fact.” Will’s blue-eyed gaze pinned her down. “A woman, especially a woman who’s not my wife, would only complicate things.”
“So, you’re saying that—for an astronaut—it’s easier having a wife than a girlfriend?” Carson popped a chip in his mouth and then downed another long drink of his Diet Coke.
“Yes, but having neither is best. For me at this juncture of my life.” Will shot another pointed look her way.
Caty placed her hand over Will’s. “Trust me, I know how important the Pursuit mission is to you, and I admire and respect you more than you can possibly know. All I’m suggesting is that when you come back down to Earth—and I do mean that quite literally—I hope you’ll try to find a nice girl and settle down. I need some more nieces and nephews.”
“I’m not buying into that reasoning. You have plenty of those with Emily and Rachel’s kids, not to mention Sam and Lexa’s growing brood,” Will countered. “Unlike the mindset of some people in this kitchen, procreating is not high on my list of things to do.”
“Will, you are so smug but brilliantly so. Sometimes I don’t understand how you could have come from the same womb as the rest of us. How do you plan on passing on all your intelligence genes to the next generation? Wait.” Caty held up one hand. “I respectfully retract the question. I don’t think I want to hear the answer.”
When Will chuckled, it relaxed the lines around his eyes. “I’m interested in space exploration for the next generation, Catherine. That might be my contribution to the world instead of actually making children.”
“Well, okay then. Tell a woman that line and you’re golden.” Caty nodded to Carson. “When he returns from his mission, we should give him some lessons. How to Talk to a Woman 101.”
“Hey, I’m all for the cause of young love,” Will said. “When the time is right.”
“I have to agree with him there.” Carson sat up straighter. “Cates, did anyone tell you about Will bringing that Army soldier home from Afghanistan last year?”
Caty searched her mind. “Now that you mention it, Lexa said something about it. Emma and Ryan? They live somewhere near Cleveland?”
“Ellie and Ryan.” A small smile etched the corners of Will’s mouth. Customary to his nature, he’d never brag on the fact that he’d personally flown Ryan back to the States. Hearing about moments like that made Caty proud of him all over again. He was a quiet hero, stalwart and strong. The best kind of hero.
“That was very romantic,” Caty agreed. “You flew him home so he’d make it in time for his Christmas wedding, right?”
“He sure did,” Carson said. “Going back to the having a wife is easier than a girlfriend discussion, what Will says makes good sense for a pastor, too. You can’t bring your relationship issues to the pulpit just like you can’t be stewing about a woman when you’re sitting in the commander’s chair. Right, Will?”
“You got it.” Will shot her a wink. Who knew the man could wink? Encouraging. Maybe there was hope for the space scientist yet.
“Which means you’d better get busy, too, little bro,” Caty said. “For now, we’ll be content in our singledom.”
“Is singledom a word?” Carson appeared genuinely puzzled. “Hey, at least I’m dating.”
“Yes, it’s a word,” Will said. “I think Caty’s the only one who cares. She needs to focus on her own love life and think about giving us more nieces and nephews to spoil.”
Although Will and Carson both chuckled, Caty didn’t feel much like laughing. She only had herself to blame. Why had she started this discussion? “So, who’s up for a rousing game of KerPlunk?”
Will’s jaw dropped. “You still have that game, too?”
“I do,” she said. “It’s in the same box where you found Parcheesi. Do the honors and go get it for us, will you?”
Will pushed back from the table, shaking his head. “You’re fun, Caty. Weird, but fun.”
“I know. That’s why you love me.”
“Sounds about right.” Will headed back to the living room.
Carson rubbed his hands together. “This should be fun. Think they’d ever do a cover story on the Sexiest Seminary Student?”
She swatted his arm. “Don’t even suggest it. Why? Is that someone you know?”
Those dimples made an appearance. “You know it, sista.” When she burst out laughing, he shrugged. “Can’t get away with that one, can I?”
“Not a chance.”
“Will, stop orbiting and get back in here!” Carson called.
All Caty could do was laugh. These two were good for her soul.
Chapter 19
“Dad, do you own the whole building?” Lauren walked beside Caleb on Friday morning as they headed toward the private elevator in the parking garage. Twirling in a circle, she opened her arms. Still facing him, she took short, backward steps.
“I don’t own any of it. I only lease space for Belac on the 35th floor.”
“The whole floor?” She still sounded impressed. “That’s like…huge!”
Caleb smiled at her enthusiasm as Lauren turned around and bounced the rest of the way to the elevator. Bounced. Not slouched, dragged, or plodded. Her attitude today was much improved, and he’d lost count how many times she’d called him Dad.
He’d taken the time to say a prayer—granted, while he was soaping up in the shower—and acknowledged his gratefulness for Lauren’s recent shift in attitude. Her outlook had also encouraged him, and he hoped it’d continue.
The night before, they’d sat together at the dinner table and talked. They’d shared a decent conversation even if it was only about movies and TV shows. Sometimes the inconsequential discussions were every bit as good for the soul as deep, meaningful talks. He’d turned off his phone and insisted Lauren did, too. No work papers were scattered on the table, nothing to distract either one of them. He’d focused on what she’d said and Lauren answered his questions without resorting to any you’re so old or you’re so out of touch comments. He suggested watching a movie together one night and she hadn’t flat out refused. Again…progress. Baby steps.
As they waited for the elevator, Lauren looked up at him. “So, if you don’t own the building, do you rent it? Is that what lease means?”
“You’ve got it.” Caleb angled his head and gave her a stern look. “I think you like being suspended. Is that why you smoked in the bathroom? To get out of going to school for a few days?”
Although he’d never admit it, he couldn’t blame her if she had. In her shoes, he might have done the same thing. Maybe he was being unfair, but he wouldn’t wish Windsocket on anyone. Winthorpe. Usually he was a stickler for using someone’s proper name. Calling her by the wrong name had started as a joke, so why couldn’t he
get it right?
“No. I didn’t like smoking that much, anyway. And that model thingee with the black lungs that Dr. Paul showed me was disgusting.”
“Good.” If smoking one cigarette was the least of her—make that his—problems, she’d be blessed. Still couldn’t hurt to ramp up the prayer time. “Lauren, I hope you realize I’m not saying people who smoke are bad. It’s like anything else. What they do is their own business, but every person is accountable for their own actions before God.”
“I know. Grandma Reid used to smoke.”
How could he have forgotten? Momentary lapse. She’d smoked after he’d gone away to college and hadn’t kicked the habit until Lauren was about four. After Lauren spent time with his mom, Helena had been furious when she’d come home reeking of tobacco—in her hair, her clothing, even in her skin.
Addiction could be a horrible thing. He’d finally paid for his mother to go to a fancy clinic somewhere in southern California to kick her by then two-or-three-pack-a-day habit. If he were honest, he’d done it to be the hero to his wife as much for his own mother’s health. By that time in his marriage, he’d have done almost anything to help salvage his lackluster marriage.
With its faint ding, the elevator finally arrived. The private service elevator was a courtesy provided to exclusive building tenants, but it was unbearably slow. Taking out his pass key, Caleb waited as Lauren entered the elevator. He followed and then quickly slid the card through the slot.
Lauren grabbed his arm as the doors closed. “This is fun. Like bring your daughter to work day.”
“You know the rules, Lauren. Cordelia will watch over you when I’m not there.” At least he only had one appointment this morning. “After I’m done with my meeting, we’ll do something together.” He hadn’t figured out what that was, but Cordelia could help him come up with something. As long as she wasn’t confined in the house, Lauren might be less inclined to sulk.