Best Friends Don't Kiss(88)

And with some of our closest friends and family surrounding us, I savor this moment. Imprint it on my mind.

This is the day that I finally got Ava Lucie, the girl of my fucking dreams.

Nothing will ever top this.

Not getting into NASA.

Not heading into space for the first time.

Nothing.





Three years later…

Bittersweet June

Luke



My phone vibrates in the cupholder, and once I come to a stop at a red light, I pick it up to check the screen.



Ava: Where are you?



Me: On my way home.



Ava: Geez Louise. It feels like it’s taking you FOREVER.



Me: Impatient, much?



Ava: Uh, YEAH. Tonight is our last night together before you’re gone for SIX WHOLE MONTHS. I need you home for all of the very bad and dirty things I have planned.



Looks like bad girl Ava will be making an appearance tonight.

Yes, please.

When the light turns green, I fire off one last response.



Me: Don’t worry, Ace. I’m on my way.



About ten minutes later, I pull into the driveway of the house Ava all but demanded we buy two years ago. This home, a two-story white brick house with black trim and shutters, was her dream home. And it goes without saying, I’m always on team “make all of my wife’s dreams come true.”

Honestly, it’s hard to believe we’ve been in Houston for three years now and have been living inside this house for two of them.

Between finishing NASA’s Astronaut Candidate training program, Ava opening two galleries—one here in Houston and the other in Austin—that solely sell her art, getting married, and buying a house, it’s been an adventure, to say the least.

Tomorrow marks the beginning of another huge milestone. I will take my first trip into space to visit the International Space Station to complete some important engineering work. I’m excited. Thrilled, even. But I can’t say that being away from Ava for six months doesn’t hurt. Because, fuck, it definitely hurts.

At least, though, we have tonight to soak up a little more time together before I leave.

And, trust me, I plan to do a whole lot of soaking when it comes to my beautiful wife.

I cut the engine to the car and rub my fingers over the now worn-out metal of the key chain Ava bought for me several Christmases ago.

To the Moon and Mars and back.

I smile down at the little astronaut engraved into the metal before hopping out of my truck and heading into the house.

In through the side door off the garage, I make my way into the kitchen, but before I can figure out where Ava is hiding inside our house, my phone pings with a text message.



Thatcher Kelly: I can’t believe tomorrow is the fluffing day. My man Luke is gonna be strapped to a motherfluffing rocket and shot off into space. Safe travels, buddy. Don’t forget to call me when you arrive safely.



Even though I’ve been in Houston for the past three years, I’ve still somehow managed to keep in touch with Thatch. I’m finding he’s kind of like a parasite. Once you’re friends with him, he latches the fuck on and never lets go.

Hell, about a year ago, when he and Cassie took a trip to Austin with their boys, they just showed up at our front door without warning. Before we knew it, their boys were running around our house like lunatics, while Thatch made himself at home on our sofa and Cass was in our kitchen, popping open a bottle of wine.

You truly never know what you’re going to get with those two.

But I’m pretty sure that’s what makes them so damn entertaining.



Me: Thanks, man. I appreciate it. And my safe arrival won’t be until December, so it’s going to be a while.



Thatcher Kelly: I’m not talking about your arrival home, dude. I mean, your arrival in space. Fluffing FaceTime me when you get there.



That’s not exactly how it works. The only person I’m going to be able to stay in fairly constant contact with is Ava. Everyone else is going to have to wait until I get back home.



Me: Sorry to burst your bubble, but, uh, I won’t be able to do that.



Thatcher Kelly: And why the fluff not?



Me: Them’s the NASA rules, man. Something about the importance of staying focused while facing the sometimes very dangerous obstacle that is flying around in space.



Thatcher Kelly: Fluffing lame.



Me: How about this? When Ava and I are in Vermont for the holidays, we’ll make a stop in New York to see you guys.



Truthfully, we’re already planning on doing that because of Trevor and Desi and Claire, but he doesn’t need to know that.



Thatcher Kelly: Pfft. Yeah. Whatever. That’s fine.



Ha. He is so transparent it’s not even funny.



Me: So, basically, what you’re saying is that you mostly just wanted me to call you from space so you could be fucking nosy, not so much so you could know I’ve arrived to the Space Station safely?



Thatcher Kelly: Bingo bango, bud. ;) But seeing you guys in December sounds good too.



Me: LOL. I’ll have Ava get it all squared away with Cassie.