Chapter Text
October 1971
‘So how’s my team doin’? Excited to get back home?’ said Ed as the crew of Apollo 15 began their three-day journey back to Earth.
‘I dunno. I kinda like it up here…’ Molly muttered, gazing thoughtfully out of the window.
‘That’s good to hear!’ he replied in his strong captain voice, far from the vulnerable one he had dared to show a couple of nights ago. ‘I doubt this is gonna be the last time they send you up here after you’ve given America a large dose of liquid honor, Cobb!’ Molly smiled at the joke and the praise, but wasn’t sure it had much to do with America’s honor. ‘What about you, Sedge?’ Ed continued. ‘Missing Gloria?’
‘Well, I didn’t do what you guys did, but I’ve had a blast. Longest we’ve been apart since we got married though.’
‘Hey…’ said Ed seriously, ‘Your job was just as important as ours while we were down there. We wouldn’t be on our journey back without you keeping the life raft afloat!’
‘Thanks, boss. You excited to see Karen?’ Ed chuckled vaguely, and Molly wondered if he was expecting some marital conflict back on the ground.
‘Knowing Karen, she’ll have inducted both your spouses into the club now. I apologize in advance if she’s freaked them out with her hyper-organization. She’s great really.’ With a pang of concern, Molly wondered how Wayne had fared in suburbia. If he’d been a different sort of person, that would be exactly where he’d have ended up. A respected doctor with a wife and kids in the suburbs. Well, he did have a wife – just not the kind his family would have hoped for.
Her heart sank as she remembered that Thanksgiving was only a few weeks away. For his sake, she didn’t exactly mind going to see his mother every year – and at least it was only once a year – but it was seeing him clam up and change that was difficult. Should she get in touch with her own parents after landing? Their enthusiasm when she became a candidate had been lukewarm at best, although when wasn’t it? She had given up trying to connect with them beyond a surface level years ago. Would having gone to space change anything? Should it? This was exactly the kind of aggravating feelings-shit that being in space for a week had granted her a break from. Time to shift the focus onto someone else’s shit.
‘And your boy?’ she said, directed at Ed. Molly saw him glance at her, as if to silently acknowledge their heart-to-heart. ‘Think he’s gonna be an astronaut like you?’
‘I don’t know… maybe. I’d love that. He just needs to toughen up first. Danny wants to, and they’re best friends so…’
‘Well, Danny’s got two astronaut parents now,’ interrupted Sedge. ‘Are they gonna be fighting over who has the most? Unless Karen decides to give it a go…’
‘Not a chance. She didn’t even like the idea of Molly coming up here…’ Ed stopped himself and shook his head as if there was more to the story. Perhaps Wayne would be able to talk some sense into Karen. ‘You and Gloria planning to have any?’ Ed was employing the same tactic as Molly had – shift the focus back onto someone else.
As she half-listened to Sedge talk about his hopes for the future, she felt she’d never been so glad to not have a kid. Thank fuck for multiple birth control methods and a “whatever we feel like” attitude towards sex. Molly firmly believed only people who really wanted kids should do it, and to his credit, Sedge did sound like one of those people. If only her own parents had followed that principle. They hadn’t been bad parents as such, just…distant. Speaking of people with kids, would Astro-wife ever make it to space? Choosing this profession had the ability to fly Molly away from life’s frustrations, but oddly brought her closer to people who followed life’s expectations much more closely than she ever had.
‘If it’s your thing though, must be nice to know you’ve always got your kid cheering you on…’ she reflected as her bladder called her to begin the now familiar process of peeing in space. She must remember to let Irene know that her invention worked. And Margo…
‘So… how’re things with you-know-who?’ Abe asked tentatively, trying to gauge from Margo’s demeanor whether she was currently open to that line of questioning. It wasn’t an exaggeration to say he’d felt honored to have been chosen as Margo’s first confidant. He knew from experience how nerve-wracking having those early conversations could be. The unfamiliarity of using particular words to describe yourself out loud. The uncertainty about who was trustworthy. Unfortunately, being forward-thinking in other ways wasn’t always a guarantee that homosexuality wouldn’t be a step too far for someone. The fact that Margo had to be so careful about NASA demonstrated that perfectly.
‘Well…’ she began, not quite meeting his eyes. It was the first time he had seen her at the bar in several weeks, and he had been dying to know how things were going. ‘You were right to say I should keep an open mind…’ she continued hesitantly.
‘Oh! You spoke to her about it?’ In truth, he hadn’t expected so much progress in such a short time. Although considering the nature of her day job, he supposed it wasn’t a huge surprise that she had the ability to move even the most insurmountable set of dials at an impressive pace. ‘What did you find out?’ Margo looked as though she was searching for the right answer – a succinct way to summarize her findings – rather than spilling everything out in disjointed parts like most people he knew would do. Especially when it came to this subject.
‘Well… she sees women… very regularly as it turns out…’
‘Yes!’ Abe banged his fist triumphantly on the table, causing Margo to look around nervously. ‘I’ve never even met her, but I just had a feeling, you know?’ Margo gave him a skeptical look. She would learn the knack, in time. ‘So… are you gonna shoot your shot?’ He was surprised to see her blush and cast her eyes downwards. ‘White people’s skin is so funny,’ he reflected as he waited patiently for Margo’s response. He supposed dark skin had to have some social advantages.
‘That ship might have already sailed…’ she said bashfully, grasping her glass of brandy as if she thought it might absorb some of the shockwaves from her confession.
‘You’ve already gone for it?’ Abe was genuinely impressed. ‘From the color of your face I’m going to guess the conversation went well?’
‘Yes... although it might have been a bit more than a conversation…’ Now he was actually shocked. But as he wanted her to feel that it was normal and natural right from the start, he forced himself to respond with maturity.
‘Wow, alright… so how was it?’ She mumbled into her drink, and he thought he saw a hint of a smile. ‘Sorry, I didn’t catch that!’ he laughed, and her smile broke out of its box.
‘If you really must know… it was very, very good…’ she whispered, looking up at him for the first time in minutes. He could tell she wasn’t used to this type of conversation and felt privileged to be trusted to know even one percent of the available details.
‘I’m so proud of you, honey,’ he said gently, although inside he was desperate to know more. He hoped that too would come with time. ‘So, where did you leave it with her?’
‘Well, she’s on the Moon right now, so it’s not really a priority…’
‘You have such a weird life, Margo.’ She rolled her eyes at him, and he trusted their friendship was at the stage where she would know the teasing was entirely affectionate. ‘How are you feeling now about being introduced to some other people? Maybe some new friends…’
‘I’m not sure… maybe too much of a risk right now. I care about my job and I want to keep it.’ Abe had never met anyone so sure of their purpose.
‘Sounds like you want to do more than keep it. More like be the boss of it…’
‘I’m going to get us to Mars. Beyond, if I can,’ she replied simply, as if that was a normal goal to have. ‘I’m just… starting to think that perhaps it would help my focus to… enjoy myself occasionally too,’ she finished with a tentative smile, raising her glass as if to toast to the idea.
‘Nothing like a good screw to focus the mind!’ He met her glass with his own with a clink and she looked around, scandalized, but he could tell she was enjoying herself. ‘I wonder though… if it would help you to find out a bit more about the community that’s available to you… even if you observe from the background for now.’
‘How would I do that?’ she replied, sounding like she was expecting a detailed step-by-step briefing for a new type of assignment.
‘You could take a trip to Austin. They’ve got a couple of good bookstores…’
‘How will that help?’ she said skeptically. He could see he had his work cut out with this one.
‘Gay bookstores, Margo. Well, they don’t advertise themselves as that, but hippy or alternative bookstores sometimes have extra material in the back they can offer you if you know how to ask…’
‘How do I ask? And what extra material?’ He smiled fondly. Step-by-step it was, then.
‘Oh, you know… like stories about people like us and how we live. Our joys, our connections, our political struggles…’ He paused as he searched for a way to express the next part without scaring her off. ‘Or… pictures of some of the things we do together…’ Through her skepticism, he saw her eyes widen with poorly concealed interest. On reflection, she had just told him she’d already been to bed with a woman, so perhaps that was actually the most accessible part of what he’d described.
‘So… like a research trip?’
‘Yes, Margo, like a research trip. If that helps you get it,’ he teased, eliciting an enjoyable eyebrow raise from the other side of the table.
‘I do feel like I need to… do something about it… it’s hard to explain…’ Abe could hazard an educated guess at what she was getting at.
‘When people first come out, they often have a kind of… electrical surge… like they need somewhere to put all the built-up energy they haven’t been expressing.’
‘I guess that makes sense scientifically…’ Abe fought down a chuckle, instead gazing at her with a fond smile – this woman was like no one else, and he knew a lot of people. To his surprise, she didn’t argue against his suggestion. ‘They did say they wanted to try us on the red-eye shift tomorrow… I wasn’t going to listen because it’s crazy to make that kind of change during an active mission, but…’
‘It’s one day, Margo. Take the opportunity to do something different for a few hours. It’ll be good for you.’
Armed with a short list of bookstores to try out, Margo got into her car and set off for Austin. Now that she thought about it, she realized she had only been there once. A short visit in ’66, when she’d first moved to Texas. And then NASA had taken over and she had barely left Houston since, except occasional drives to Huntsville. And Austin was a lot closer than Huntsville, so a day trip it was.
She stopped at the intersection where she would usually make a right to go to NASA, and for a moment she hesitated, considering forgetting all about Austin. If they were serious about her not going to mission control until later that night, she could just shut herself in her office until it was time. The return of Apollo 15 was only days away, and the re-entry equations could use another review…
Margo sat up tall in the driver’s seat, indicated left, and turned on the radio. Abe’d had a point – if she wasn’t going to open herself up to new people, she needed to do something. The adrenaline from the encounters with Molly was still coursing through her, causing an odd kind of… momentum that she couldn’t fully explain. A drive towards curiosity. This made sense to her. That she would respond by gathering information and hopefully synthesizing it into knowledge. She was never one to pass up an opportunity for discovery.
Always a risk assessor too, she had also brought along a winter hat and sunglasses. Thankfully, the bright, crisp October day meant it wouldn’t look too odd if she decided to wear them both at the same time. Abe had said the people who ran the stores would be discreet, but she wanted to be smart about it. There weren’t many red-haired women in their late twenties who were going to run NASA one day. She wouldn’t be recognizable now, but in future… who knew what people would remember?
‘You came into town
With your big ideas…’
As she approached the city, the radio began to play an artist she hadn’t heard before. A deep, soulful female voice with acoustic backing, and if Margo’s good ear wasn’t mistaken, an English accent. She had always wanted to visit London – the home of so much scientific and musical innovation. Usually, lyrics were the last thing she noticed about good music, especially given that her favourite genre didn’t always have many. But in this instance, she found the words were oddly appropriate for the occasion.
‘So settle down
City girl
Make life what it should be
Lots of laughs
All you want
That’s how it oughta be
But don’t take my word
Just sit back and you’ll see…’
Margo was still absorbing the song’s message when she pulled up in the Warehouse district. It had moved her in ways she didn’t yet fully understand. ‘Why am I so slow with this stuff?’ she asked herself as she pulled the keys out of the ignition. ‘Not the moment for that question,’ she decided, knowing there was a risk she would overthink herself into turning straight back around. She quickly tied her hair back, donned the hat and sunglasses, and abruptly got out of the car.
Map and directions in hand, it didn’t take her long to find the first location. She remembered navigating the NASA maze with relative ease early on in her career – you just had to be methodical about it. Still on logical autopilot, she grasped the door handle and entered the store as she would any other. When she took in the scene, however, she found she was overwhelmed. The room was far busier than was comfortable, with people chatting animatedly in pairs or small groups, and a line was forming at the register. Margo turned on her heel and walked straight back outside. She immediately regretted doing so, but then reasoned that if she went back in again, she might draw attention to herself.
‘I’ll go to the next one and then maybe come back later…’ she thought, trying to keep her steel and composure as she continued walking, her old sneakers a welcome break from the usual heeled work shoes. Approaching the second store, she peered through the window and saw it was empty except for two people behind the counter. On second thoughts, perhaps a busy store would actually be more anonymous. ‘No, stop being ridiculous. You’re going in,’ she chided herself. She made sure her hair was tucked inside her hat and grasped the door handle firmly.
Once inside, Margo gave a cursory nod to the owners and began to make her way around, telling herself it was just like any other bookstore. What was she even looking for? Surveying the shelves in front of her, nothing appeared out of the ordinary. Was she in the wrong place? Should she just ask for what they had “in the back” as Abe had suggested? Her stomach swooped at the thought – what if they didn’t know what she meant? Briefly tempted to forget the whole thing and start exploring the mathematics or music section, her attention was caught by a sign that read Social Studies. That sounded like a good place to start.
Margo ran her hand over a row of feminist spines, grounding herself in the familiar scent of books and the exhilarating promise of knowledge. She picked out titles one-by-one and read the descriptions thoughtfully, hoping that she would simply appear to be a modern woman who wanted some encouragement from like-minded academics. Semi-reluctantly, she had to admit to herself that this wasn’t really why she was there. But suddenly spotting the words Lesbo Wife out of the corner of her eye jolted her task back into focus, and she forced herself to look upwards instead. Had she imagined those words?
A selection of short books lay on the shelf just above Margo’s head. She experienced another swoop of the stomach as she absorbed the strange and intriguing titles. Queer Patterns… The Story of a Strange Love… The Needs We Share… all with cover designs involving two women in mysterious, seductive poses. Yes, she really had seen the words Lesbo Wife, and the publication in question depicted characters with lowcut dresses, leaving little to the imagination. Despite the unappealing facial expressions and odd arrangement of limbs, Margo felt her body react to the breasts, almost entirely on show apart from the nipples. This was becoming a pattern. She had just plucked up the courage to pick up one called Do the job he left behind, which stood out to her due to the redhead on the cover, when she heard a gentle voice from beside her.
‘Can I help you look for anything?’
‘No, thank you,’ said Margo reflexively, heart beating wildly, clutching the book tightly. ‘I mean, yes. I mean…’
‘It’s alright,’ said the woman with a smile. ‘Those can be kinda hit and miss,’ she continued, indicating the collection Margo had been perusing. ‘First time I picked one up I couldn’t decide whether I actually wanted to read it.’
‘Yeah, I… I haven’t um… read one before…’ stumbled Margo awkwardly, nervously moving it in her hands. She could tell the paper was poor quality, and suddenly became aware of not wanting to look like she was about to damage it. The woman didn’t seem to mind though. Margo judged her to be in her late forties, with a kind face and calm demeanor, but her face had a weariness to it too.
‘If it’s those you’re interested in, I might have something better in the back for you…’ It felt as though her piercing brown eyes were looking straight into Margo’s soul. Not that Margo believed in souls. But hearing the words “in the back” was a strange sort of relief. She had been saved from having to say the words herself.
‘Alright. Should I uh… wait here?’
‘Come with me if you want. More privacy that way.’ The woman smiled warmly, and Margo decided to follow. She had come all that way, after all. ‘You alright out here while I help this customer?’ the woman called to her co-worker at the front of the store.
‘So, you trying to find out about yourself?’ she asked over her shoulder once she had offered Margo a seat across from several shelves of catalogued boxes.
‘How did you know?’ asked Margo quietly, watching her root through the boxes at a surprisingly efficient speed.
‘I’ve worked here long enough to know it when I see it. The body language, the determination mixed with apprehension. The hat and sunglasses. Which you’re welcome to keep on, by the way. I get it.’ Margo smiled gratefully and her next breath was steadier than the last. ‘Even if you run for President, I’ll dutifully vote for you and act like I never met you,’ she finished with a wink.
‘Thank you. My friend… he told me you might have something useful…’
‘I hope so. There’s been more published for the men, so he’ll have had more to choose from, but there are options…’
‘Even with this, men get more?’ Margo asked indignantly, briefly forgetting to be shy. The woman nodded and pulled a face.
‘Yeah. Well, more attention paid to them. That can definitely be a bad thing, but at least people realize it’s real, even if they look down on it.’ Margo frowned – it was a lot to take in. ‘There’s been a split here in Austin – only a couple of months ago actually. Gay Women’s Liberation was formed in June. Too many of the men had traditional anti-feminist views,’ she finished, rolling her eyes. Margo just nodded, not feeling she had the presence of mind to engage with that right then. Thankfully, the woman was ready to present her findings.
‘Right, so there’s several editions of Come Out there – that’s from New York. Two editions of Lavender Vision out of Massachusetts – that one’s just about women, which is nice. A few of Lesbos Review and My Girl, although you might find those aren’t to your tastes. I won’t make assumptions though. And Seize is similar but I personally think it’s more authentic.’
‘What do you mean by “authentic”?’ Margo wanted to know.
‘Let’s just say… the last few titles I mentioned there are more about the… physical side of things… and there are different approaches to depicting that. You might find you like certain approaches more than others. Come Out and Lavender Vision are more political or community-based… raising issues, people talking about their lives… describing how they feel… that sort of thing.’
‘Thank you,’ said Margo seriously, taking a first cursory glance over the publication covers through her sunglasses. She was suddenly acutely aware of their weight on her face. ‘Thank you for taking the time to find these for me.’ She didn’t know what she thought about what was in front of her, but expressing appreciation was something she could more easily reach for.
‘No problem, honey. We gotta look after our own. I’ll throw in a couple of the pulps out there if you’d like?’ Margo assumed she meant the short books out in the main store, and realized she was still holding one in her right fist. ‘I can point out the ones that have the least tragic endings… or better yet, I can rip out the endings completely… damn things…’
‘Why do they all have tragic endings?’ This really was an educational trip. The woman sighed and smiled sadly, as though she was weary of a world that required her to explain this.
‘It’s the only way they can get published. If women like us are shown to have… let’s say consequences for being how we are. Or at least see the error of our ways and end up married with kids after all.’ Margo nodded, thinking back to her FDO interview – it had felt like women couldn’t win whether they had kids or not.
‘What’s the one you’re holding?’ the woman continued, peering across the table. ‘You see? The violent story of a woman’s sexual revolt… the subheading already suggests it’s not going to end well, and that’s before you’ve even opened the book.’ Margo agreed – she had been under the impression that the point of romances was to help the reader escape from life’s harsh realities, and look forward to a happy ending. ‘This is why it’s important to have a range of things to look through – especially as we’re not in the fifties anymore when these were pretty much all you could get.’
Feeling like she at least now had something to work from, Margo rose from the chair to indicate that she didn’t want to outstay her welcome. When they emerged from the back room, the second woman called over.
‘Hey, come and see – the astronaut is on TV! Can you believe she did it?’ Surely it wasn’t the astronaut, Margo thought in a panic, trying to busy herself looking for money in her purse.
‘Amazing. She’s quite something, isn’t she?’ replied the first woman, directing her question to Margo. Reluctantly, Margo glanced at the screen above the counter and to her dismay they were indeed talking about Molly. But of course they were. Finding water on the Moon was the biggest news story in months. It still didn’t make the situation feel any less strange or stressful.
‘Yeah, it’s a great discovery…’ she said lamely. How could she not have considered what she’d say if NASA came up in conversation?
‘A fantastic woman, too…’ said the second woman dreamily. ‘I’d let her search for water in my crater any day…’ Margo’s abdomen swelled with a mixture of horror and an annoyingly familiar feeling that surely couldn’t be arousal. This was getting too close for comfort. She reached for her purse and quickly completed the transaction.
‘It was nice to meet you, honey,’ said the first woman. ‘I’m Amelia, by the way. And this is my partner, Amanda.’ Margo felt a little silly for not realizing they were… together. She saw them glance at each other and observed the affection on both faces. They also had noticeably similar names, and she wondered vaguely if that got confusing.
‘Thank you for your help,’ she replied sincerely as Amelia handed over a bag. She was sure once she’d left the store, they would discuss what an odd customer she was, and felt an odd mix of relief and regret that she had met them wearing what was essentially a disguise.
Once she was outside on the sidewalk, treasured purchases firmly in hand, she closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. Despite having to swerve the curveball of sudden discussion of Molly, she had successfully completed the task Abe had assigned her – come away with something to read about women being together, and don’t make yourself recognizable in the process. Although really the last part was her own addition.
Time to drive back to Houston. Her stomach rumbled, and she acknowledged that if she were more of a normal person, she would have stopped to eat something when she first arrived. Perhaps she could find a drive-thru – after that ordeal, only a burger would suffice.
‘Molly… I’ve been thinking…’ said Ed carefully as they made their way through the airbase, sounding like he’d been waiting until Sedge was out of earshot. They’d not long splashed down in the Pacific, and now they’d landed on Hawaii, their crewmate was up first for medical checks given that he’d been the one to throw up all over the controls on the way down. ‘Will you arrange it so I can talk to Patty’s girl? I spent all that time talking to her father, and there was someone else I should’ve been talking to…’ Molly had been expecting him to check on her welfare after her first reentry or engage her in discussion about the efficacy of the parachutes – although really he didn’t need her on her own for that.
‘I dunno about that. Like I said, she’ll have reasons for not wanting the attention…’ The very least she could do for Patty was to help take care of Viv. Although, she reasoned, Ed was trying to do the same. He could be arrogant, but overall she decided she’d misjudged him at first. A certain amount of brashness was necessary for the job.
‘It could be on the phone, so she doesn’t have to show her face. I don’t even need to know her name if it helps her feel more comfortable. I just want to make it right.’ Molly thoroughly understood this need. And if she was honest, being willing to step up and do the right thing was one of the ways into her good books. Patty had been the same.
‘I’ll see what I can do,’ she said simply, giving him a small, sincere smile as they took the brief opportunity to sit side-by-side on a real chair for the first time in what felt like weeks. Molly felt a little unsteady on her feet – like each step was too heavy, pressing unnecessarily hard into the ground. And that was after only ten days. What would it be like if she ever went up for longer?
‘Good. I’ll send you next for medical,’ Ed continued at a normal volume as two airbase officials bustled past, as if they’d been talking about the splashdown the whole time. Watching the figures walk away, Molly decided to take the opportunity to make doubly sure she and Ed were on the same page.
‘Ed… you really need to keep what I told you up there to yourself. You sure you can do that?’ He stared straight ahead, and the pause before he spoke suggested he was pondering how to say a lot without saying much at all.
‘I got you, Molly. You can trust me.’ In that moment, Molly knew she’d never need to ask again.
Having put off engaging with her new materials for a couple of days – one step at a time, right? – Margo was wide awake at the apartment and decided it was time to sit down and read. For perhaps the first time ever, she set herself up in bed with a morning coffee, fanned her collection out on top of the comforter, and chose a publication at random. Well, not entirely at random, as she definitely wanted to start with the ones that focused more on words than pictures.
Lavender Vision: issue 2 was charmingly decorated, with hand-drawn faces, symbols, and even a cat. Margo attempted to absorb as many of the handwritten adverts for services and events as she could, impressed at how many there were, before reaching the main introduction page.
We are lesbians.
We are women who sleep with each other. We are women who have loved each other all our lives and have been put in mental hospitals and jails because of it. We are a community that creates our own way of making love, our own way of fighting, our own way of making a revolution that is not just on walls and in leaflets but in our daily lives…
We are against sexism in all forms. Every day we face sexism when we walk the streets hand in hand. We face it when we go to our bars which really belong to the Mafia and are gawked at by men who come to let out all their perverted fantasies about screwing us. Lesbianism brings out all of the perverted hatred and anger that men have towards women. It is the biggest threat to masculine domination there is…
Although some of the stronger assertions would need further consideration – the Mafia? – Margo felt heartened and emboldened by the clear declarations that such women existed and should be able to do so without fear of harm. The connection to sexism also made sense to her, and she was interested to think further about the links between the two. Best of all, she was observing a vibrant pattern of the desire to create one’s own way of doing things, and innovate for the good of everyone.
Moving on, she smiled at photographs of women forming genuine friendships, earnest descriptions of how they came to understand themselves as gay, and a wide variety of experiences when it came to letting other people know how they felt. She was particularly struck by a page signed A. Dyke, the end of her account resonating through Margo like a perfectly balanced equation.
But even though being gay has been very painful at times, mostly it’s been the best time of my life. I’ve had some beautiful times with women, both in and out of bed. I’ve danced and sung more than ever before. I have more friends than I ever did and I feel like we’re building a strong community here and with other gay women across the country…
No one should have to be afraid of being gay. Me and a lot of my sisters and brothers aren’t scared any more. We’re out of our closets. We’re gay and we feel good about it. Join us.
There was something about her words that reminded Margo of the song that had come on the radio on her way to Austin. Being brave enough to connect with others who see things the way you do. Taking time to relax and experience joy – and if it’s not readily available, creating it for yourself. Not being afraid to show your true self for fear of how people might treat you. These were all things – especially the last one given the hugely important factor of NASA – that felt more out of reach than she would like. But she was proud of how far she had come.
Time to move onto the more physical part of her research. She remembered what – Amelia, was it? Or Amanda? – had said about Lesbos Review and My Girl, and it didn’t take her long to agree with her. Margo frequently found herself rotating them ninety or one-hundred-eighty degrees, which didn’t do much to clarify what was supposed to be appealing about most of the pictures. Sure, the women were dressed to provoke a reaction, but as much as she tried, she just didn’t find it erotic. It was as if the photographers and publishers had had a different audience in mind right from the start. The women in the pictures looked like they had been asked to perform as someone else for the day. Were they even attracted to each other?
On picking up Seize, however, she could see the difference straight away. Whilst it also depicted naked women enjoying themselves and each other, the photographs were shot in a way that made the subjects look more… human somehow. It made sexual attraction feel more beautiful and less seedy. More like Margo was enjoying people’s pleasure with them, rather than being expected to leer at them as if they were window dressing.
Margo found herself intrigued by a series of black and white photos of two women lying on a windy beach, the legs of one wrapped closely around the other. This provided an intriguing view of her backside, which was shapely in a way that suggested the physical fitness of its owner. The woman also had short hair, which revealed the shape of her neck in a way one didn’t usually get to see. They also looked like they might know each other – there appeared to be some kind of authentic connection between them, whether they were in love or not.
Margo then took a small break to heat up the half-forgotten burger she had purchased on her way home the previous night. Visiting the drive-thru on the way back from Austin had reminded her how much she enjoyed them. An odd breakfast, perhaps, but at least she was having breakfast. Absentmindedly, she continued flicking through Seize, smiling with her mouth full as she observed pages of soft skin, strong arms, and breasts set against surroundings that didn’t immediately make her feel guilty for looking.
Then she stopped in her tracks as she came upon an image of one woman’s head in between the other’s legs, her tongue buried deep in the folds of the other woman’s vulva. Margo’s eyes widened as her conception of what could be sexually enjoyable expanded, and her curiosity and arousal were piqued. Mouth still full, a small amount of ketchup dripped its way unnoticed down her chin as she continued to gaze intensely at the page.
As Molly leant against the window ledge, attempting to look natural as she assisted with Wayne’s latest artistic endeavor, her mind wandered to her arrival back in mission control. She had lagged behind the guys, not entirely comfortable with the hero’s welcome they were greeted with. She remembered looking around the room, reluctantly taking in the enthusiasm of her colleagues as they all scrambled to be the first to congratulate her on finding water.
Admittedly, her eyes had instinctively sought out one person in particular. One of the only people who wasn’t running to shake Molly’s hand. In fact, Margo had stayed sitting at her console, although she had turned in her seat and was watching them file in – a quiet, tentative pride settling on her face. As soon as Molly realized they were beginning to make prolonged eye contact, she had hastily reversed the trajectory and reluctantly followed the guys towards Thomas Paine and the press contingent.
Part of her had wanted to bound over to Margo and excitedly regale her with stories of her time in space. Let her know that vomiting in a spacecraft was indeed a real concern. Tease her by claiming to have always known she was going to get up there and find water. But what would be the consequences of doing so – for the outside view of their fraught relationship, and the inside view for that matter?
Back in the present, Wayne was intermittently asking Molly questions as she watched him move his left hand back and forth, up and down over his canvas. He’d clearly needed a huge amount of distraction over the past couple of weeks, as he had migrated to drawing and painting nudes. He had excitedly shown her the sketches he’d done from memory, and she had volunteered to be his first real-life model.
‘So, how come you didn’t need to quarantine after you landed?’ It seemed to help him to attempt to understand the technicalities, although Molly didn’t think she was very good at explaining them.
‘Apollo 14 confirmed that there aren’t any microorganisms on the Moon, so the white coats decided quarantining us would be overcautious.’
‘Ah, so no Moon cooties.’ He nodded sagely, and she smiled at his silly sense of humor. ‘Mooties,’ he added quietly, mostly to himself. Molly shook her head fondly. She imagined Margo hearing the word “mooties” and decided that making that happen should be a new goal. An odd mix of hope and trepidation swelled up inside her at the thought that this would mean spending more time with her supposed adversary.
‘Can I come and see what you’ve done so far?’ she asked impulsively, curious about how her artistically rendered self was turning out.
‘Sure. But I think, um…’ She frowned curiously at his hesitation as she approached from behind, then smiled at the familiar sight of tubes for colors he wasn’t even using strewn around him. ‘I think this activity has… woken me up…’ he finished, glancing down at his lap.
‘What do you… oh!’ It didn’t take Molly long to understand what he meant. Clearly painting naked people wasn’t only useful as an enrichment activity. She hadn’t been intending to push the subject, but truthfully she had missed connecting with him in that way. ‘Do you… want to see how it would feel with my hand? Or would you prefer to start with yours?’ she asked with a grin as she slid her hands under his paint-covered sweater, glad that he was beginning to relax now she was safely back on the ground.
‘So, after you told him… did you… you know?’ Molly said devilishly, comically waggling her eyebrows across the pillows. Joining her in bed after a blissful drive home, Wayne had just filled her in on his visit to Isiah, during which they had openly discussed their feelings for each other for the first time. He couldn’t have been happier with how it had gone, and neither it seemed could Molly, who predictably was already rushing him.
She never did that with their own relationship; only where others were concerned. He deeply appreciated how patient she’d been with him while he worked towards being able to relax enough for physical intimacy again. Some projection of her own modes of operation was definitely involved in that disparity – she hadn’t mentioned Margo at all since she got back from the Moon.
‘No, Molly, we didn’t. We just cuddled and talked about the future,’ he replied, smiling contentedly as he thought about listening to the rhythm of Isiah’s breathing and the sound of his heartbeat.
‘That’s awesome, babe, really,’ Molly acknowledged. ‘I’m just thrilled for you to be getting back out there again, you know? And he’s a great guy, who I’m sure is excited to have some fun after the year he’s had…’ Life could be tough for a black gay man in America, and Isiah was no exception, having found it difficult to find safe and reliable work. Wayne was hoping that before long he’d be in a position to help him out when he needed it.
‘I’ve still got some anxiety about that whole area… it’s been a while since I was with anyone except you, and all this Moon anxiety hasn’t exactly helped me get in the zone…’ He trailed off as his brain produced a new portmanteau. ‘Moon-ziety…’ he said absentmindedly, feeling something in his head click satisfyingly into place.
‘You can practice more with me…’ Molly said, apparently deciding not to react to his growing collection of new Moon-related terms. ‘Get your confidence back, especially with thrusting movements,’ she added with a wink.
‘I don’t even know if he enjoys that. And I don’t want you to feel like I’m using you…’
‘You wouldn’t be,’ she said simply, as if it was obvious. ‘How’s your back at the moment?’
‘Probably okay enough to try being on top, if that’s what you’re thinking?’ The sciatica down his right side went through different phases, and despite the tension that had been present in his body lately, he hadn’t had a flare-up in a while.
‘We can put a pillow under me,’ she said, moving one out from under her head. ‘Take it at your pace and let go when you’re ready.’ After a series of slow, loving touches with hands and mouths, Wayne reached for the bedside drawer and pulled out a condom. He would have to be aware of not passing anything to her now that he was going to be sleeping with someone else again.
Sliding into familiar warmth, he was beginning to feel like he could finally relax again. Although for how long, he wasn’t sure.
At the end of Molly’s first week back at NASA, she found herself at a loose end having finished the latest round of tests determining the effect space had had on her body. Before launch, it had become obvious what she would be doing most nights after prep was done. Going to see if Margo wanted to fuck again. But things were different now.
Or were they? There had been several moments during Molly’s very busy week when their paths had crossed and Margo had appeared to startle at the sight of her. Her surprise would then settle into brief but meaningful eye contact before she bustled away to complete the next task. It was as if they were silently searching for and avoiding the answer to the question, ‘Are we going to do it again?’ They hadn’t even said a proper “hello” since Molly’s return – as if doing so would be somehow presumptive.
Ultimately, remembering how fucking hot she was helped make Molly’s decision easy, and she found herself turning down the corridor that would lead her to Margo’s tiny office. It was only 1900 hours, surely far too early for Margo to be ready to do anything but math. But what if Molly just took a little risk? After all, if Margo wasn’t up for it – either that night or in general – no harm done. Quite the opposite in fact – getting on the same page at work, or at least the same book, was an improvement in itself.
Wayne had been so brave with Isiah, but it wasn’t exactly a surprise that he was good at identifying his feelings and clearly communicating them. She was absolutely not about to burst into Margo’s office for a similar conversation, but why not choose to continue something that was fun and felt good?
Certain only of her next move, Molly knocked on the door.