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home to complain about the weight I was gaining. She didn’t have to nag me about it. I knew I was gaining. I couldn’t help it that salt and oil was such a delicious combination. And she didn’t make losing weight any easier by baking all the time.
    Grabbing a blanket, I settled onto the couch to watch cartoons. The screen was fuzzy, but not too bad. After that show ended, I grabbed the pliers to change the channel. Dad had broken the knob last year when he was over, and we’d never repaired it.
    I watched reruns of MASH and WKRP , finishing off the chips and licking my fingers. What could be better than this? It was getting a little chilly now that the sun was sinking, so I flipped on the heat.
    The front door swung open. My father burst in and plopped down in the chair with the stuffing hanging out. He thought of it as his chair, even though this wasn’t his house and that wasn’t his chair. “Hi, Annie.”
    “What’s up, Dad?”
    “Any chips left?”
    I peered in the bag. “Not a one. Not even a crumb.”
    “You’re a heartless girl.”
    “But full,” I said, patting my stomach.
    “Where’s Mark?” he asked. “I’m surprised he’s not here. He’s always here.”
    He’s always here ? I thought. “He’s got basketball.”
    Dad studied me. “You two are getting awfully close.”
    I looked away. “Mm-hmm.”
    “I mean, have you even dated anyone else? Ever?”
    “Nope.”
    “Well, I don’t think you should settle down right away.”
    “I’m not settling down,” I said, peeved. I didn’t need relationship advice from my divorced father.
    “Humph. I wouldn’t be surprised if that boy buys you a ring for Christmas.”
    “Oh, Dad,” I said, but I had a sinking feeling in my stomach.
    “It’s true. That boy’s smitten.”
    “Subject will be changed now, please,” I said.
    “You should date more. There’s this guy, Tommy, at the plant—”
    “I thought you liked Mark,” I interrupted.
    “Sure, I like Mark. But what do you two have in common?”
    “Let’s not do this, all right?” I turned back to the TV.
    “Your mom’s not home yet?”
    “Nope.” Dad had a job at a chemical plant and had for years, but he worked odd hours. He didn’t understand the routine structure of office work.
    He didn’t answer, just stared at the screen. He got up, went through the swinging door into the kitchen, and came back with some cold chicken.
    “Mom’s not going to like you eating that.”
    “We’ll tell her you ate it,” he said, grinning. He pointed a chicken leg at the screen. “Find something good on.”
    I was a little irritated. Today, I’d wanted to be alone, just me and the TV. “Don’t you have some place to be, Dad?”
    “Hey, look,” he said. “There’s that teacher from Concord.”
    “What?” I asked, my head whipping around. “Oh, shhh,” I said, running to the set and turning up the volume. I sat down on the floor in front of the TV so Dad’s talking wouldn’t keep me from hearing. Christa McAuliffe was being interviewed by a local television reporter.
    There was a knock at the door. I barely looked up. Christa was in the middle of a sentence.
    “Come in!” Dad yelled.
    I glanced up from the TV. “Mark!” I said. “I thought you had basketball.”
    “Canceled,” he said, kissing the top of my head. “Hey, Jesse.” He sat on the floor beside me. I looked back at the TV. They were replaying a shuttle launch.
    “Look at that shuttle go,” Dad said. “God, it’s beautiful.”
    Orange fire, blue sky, rising white.
    It was a familiar sight, at least on TV. The reporter was saying that Christa’s mission in January would be the twenty-fifth flight of the shuttle. I leaned in to watch the shuttle roll over on its back as it climbed in the sky and wondered why it did that.
    And for the first time, I wondered what it would be like to actually be in the shuttle. What did the astronauts feel? What did they see? What were they thinking? I couldn’t even