"Listen, then. You haven't accepted any offer yet, have you?"
"No. I got a couple of possibilities. Could get a berth on the Odyssey, the new ship being finished at Los Angeles. They want me, too, for the Moon Patrol, but that's old stuff, not much better than teaching. I want to be in deep space."
"Well, how about staying with us till you decide? Might as well enjoy Earth life while you can. Okay?"
I felt like running from the house, to forget that it existed. I wanted someone to tell me one of the old stories about space, a tale of courage that would put fuel on dying dreams.
But I wanted, also, to be with you, Laura, to see your smile and the flecks of silver in your eyes and the way your nose turned upward ever so slightly when you laughed. You see, I loved you already, almost as much as I loved the stars.
And I said, slowly, my voice sounding unfamiliar and far away, "Sure, I'll stay, Mickey. Sure."
Forty days of joy, forty nights of fear and indecision. We did all the little things, like watching the rockets land at White Sands and flying down to the Gulf to swim in cool waters. You tried, unsuccessfully, to teach me to dance, and we talked about Everson and Charlie and the Moon and the stars. You felt you had to give the stars all the beauty and promise of a child's dream, because you knew that was what I wanted.
One morning I thought, Why must I make a choice? Why can't I have both you and the stars? Would that be asking too much?
All day the thought lay in my mind like fire.