Nancy looked dubiously at the check. "I thought it was a lot ... but don't worry, Pete. You have a wife to stand by you."
When Pete found out how his wife had gone about standing by him, he was almost shocked speechless. Almost.
"You signed up as my replacement on the Proxima expedition! But you can't! It's no job for a woman! And you're leaving me alone—for seven or eight years! They won't take you!"
"They already did." She smiled bravely at him. "As the wife of a retired serviceman I had preference. We need the extra money, Pete. And it won't be for long. When I come back, we'll still be young enough to enjoy life, darling. And they pay well—a few years of sacrifice now will make so much difference in our future...."
Pete closed his eyes and thought of how many times he had said the same words to starry eyed young women. It won't be long ... we'll still be young ... good pay....
Her loving lips tenderly brushed his dark hair.
On nice days, Pete sits in a rocking chair on the porch with the other old men. He doesn't bother to dye his hair any more and he reads now with a thick glass, complaining about the small type they use nowadays. The attendants laugh off his irritability, and some of the visitors who come to see the other old men don't mind listening to his stories about the interstellar service.
When it gets toward dusk, he looks into the sky sometimes as the stars appear. Centaurus isn't really there, not here in the northern hemisphere, but he looks anyway. Out there in space, his wife is doing a man's job. Wonderful woman, Elsie.