Please not: Parts 1 and 2 are still paying and in my portfolio.


Two days before their separation, Susan awoke from a fitful sleep to a cool breeze. Billowing drapes floated in the bedroom from the windows Mark had opened. He was sitting on the edge of the bed watching his wife sleep.

"What are you doing?"

"Remembering," Mark said with an impish smile. "I have an entire gallery of memories in my mind; pictures of you sleeping, laughing and my favourite, the way you look after we make love."

"It's freezing in here. If you want to update that photograph, come back to bed and I'll give you a new image to capture."

Susan was using all her strength to remain stoic and tried to keep her words light-hearted. They had begun to talk about the mission again, a subject hard to avoid. Susan could not understand how Mark retained the excitement of his adventure and was not melancholy or frightened about leaving Earth for the last time.

"It's the first day of spring--no time to loll around in bed. We need to celebrate the equinox."

"Do you think you'll be alive to see the next one?"

The minute the words left her lips, Susan was sorry. She had no idea where they came from, but suddenly she wanted to know whether Mark was expecting to live or die.

Instead of answering her question, he answered one they'd never discussed. "Darling, I believe in life after death. I don't know whether I'll meet God on Mars or whether I'll meet him when I die--whenever or however that happens. But I absolutely do know that if I die tomorrow, I will continue to live in your heart and soul. Your love, my love for you is all the proof that I need to believe in forever."

The moment was tender, untarnished by the resentment germinating inside Susan's mind. Now that the time had come, she wanted to scream at Mark, torture him for his selfish dream, but she knew it would be self-indulgent. Nothing was going to change his mind, and her histrionics would simply end the marriage with words that could never be erased.

They had promised each other there would be no drama, no tears when they parted, but on the final day, Susan could not control her grief. She clung to Mark, hearing his heart beat in his chest as her tears streamed down the front of his shirt.

He pulled her into his lap as they sat on the bedroom floor and rocked her like a baby, murmuring soothing comfort into her ear.

It seemed like minutes, but it was more than an hour later when Mark pulled Susan to her feet and brushed her hair back from her swollen face.

"My sweet angel, tell me it was worth it to you. Please tell me you are willing to endure the pain; that our marriage was worth the cost. I never wanted to hurt you. I was selfish, but now I need you to hear what I am saying. Someone named Victor will come to see you after I am gone. He has information to share, and I ask you to listen with your heart."

Susan was all cried out. She felt a numbness sinking into her very core. Her knees felt weak, but she broke away from the embrace and walked to the bedroom door.

"Goodbye, my darling," she whispered.

"I'd like to think we will meet somewhere again, beneath a shooting star or in our dreams. Smile for me, my angel, and kiss me again."

She felt Mark's lips brush across her own, reminding her of their first kiss.

"It was worth it," Susan said.

She didn't open her eyes right away, but when she did, Mark was gone. She heard the front door close and only then sank to her knees.

Susan's sister watched Mark leave. No one wanted Susan to deal with Mark's exit without having some support. Janet waited in the living room for some signal from the bedroom that Susan was ready to emerge. She respected Susan's privacy and wanted to give her the space to sort through the emotional departure.

After ten minutes, she tapped on the door. "Sue, are you okay?"

After a second knock, Susan opened the door. "I think we should dig out the booze. Isn't that what women do when their husbands leave them, drink and eat Hagen Daz?"

For the rest of the weekend the two women drank wine, cried together and ordered Chinese-take out and pizza. Susan pulled out the albums and reminisced over each snapshot, repeating endless stories Janet already knew, but listened to again, laughing, sighing and smiling when Susan recited their wedding vows, word for word.

"You both love each other so very much. Maybe one day I'll meet my own Martian."

The one thing they did not do was turn on the television or answer the phone. Endless requests for interviews filled the answering machine, but the sisters ignored the outside world.

The first rocket launched on Monday. For the next two weeks, weather permitting, the rest of the astronauts would be taking their turn as a series of launches took place every two days. Each rocket and pod, the habitat that was part of the spaceship, and the Martian home they would inhabit, contained four people. Susan did not know which day Mark would leave Earth or the names of his shipmates. By Friday, she could no longer avoid the television. She was compelled to watch.

CNN was on a continuous loop, replaying the first two launches as they waited at Cape Canaveral for the countdown of the third rocket. Janet and Susan, still in bathrobes, were curled up on the sofa with their coffees.

"It's like a circus," Janet said, commenting on the relatives who were willingly participating in the sideshow. "Look at that guy, all dressed up like an insect or something. Is he trying to look like a Martian?"

Susan didn't answer. The silence between the sisters was natural, and Janet was caught up with the coverage and the celebratory mood. Susan was content to allow her to narrate, keeping her thoughts to herself.

The crowd was filled with people waving signs, some with good wishes, other placards with names and pictures of the astronauts. Occasionally, the camera would pan the elite group permitted in the prestige viewing gallery and catch someone sobbing, but they quickly moved away from the person, keeping the festive mood intended for the broadcast.

"Are you sorry you didn't accept the invitation to be part of that?"

"No, we've said our goodbyes. CNN is exploiting those families. I want no part of that."

The numbness that overtook Susan a few days ago was still a physical crutch she was comfortable to lean into. The sisters had their wallow, and surprisingly, Susan had risen from her overdose of alcohol and junk food with a new-found calmness.

"You know, Sue, there are all kinds of book deals on the table. I've written down all the offers and cleared the answering machine. Maybe you should consider how this could affect your life. You could wind up being more famous than the Kardashians."

Susan laughed, but felt a wave of nausea as Mark's picture filled the screen. "Oh, God. He's going today."

She never saw the lift-off. The wave of nausea rolled in her belly as she held her hand over her mouth, but finally it overcame Susan and she ran for the bathroom.

"Oh, Sue," Janet Said, following her sister into the bathroom. "I know it's hard. Do you need your pills?"

Susan heaved, leaving the dregs of her coffee in the toilet. When she caught her breath, she sank to the cold tile floor and stared at Janet. "It's not anxiety. I don't know what came over me. Maybe I need to eat something."

"Sure, let me make you something while you have a shower and get dressed."

But when Susan sat down to try to eat the simple breakfast, she was barely into her second bite of scrambled eggs before the nausea returned and she barrelled back down the hall to the bathroom.

It was almost noon before Susan felt normal again and was able to eat a few crackers and sip on some ginger ale without her stomach turning. Janet was concerned, but accredited the sudden attack to nerves. She tried to dissuade Susan from turning the television back on, but she wanted to watch the repeats of the morning launch.

"I'm okay, really Janet. In a way, I'm glad that Mark's on his way. It's what he's wanted for a very long time. I'm happy for him--I really am."

A tenuous normalcy returned over the next week. The sisters turned the channel, no longer absorbed by the hype of the Mars Mission, and watched sit-coms in between making plans for the future. Janet began to help Susan de-clutter the house, preparing it for sale. Susan would move in with Janet when the house was sold until she could map out a future for herself. Mark had provided well for his wife, with enough capital investments that Susan could live comfortably for the rest of her life

It was enough for Susan, liquidating their marital home and a decade of possessions would keep her busy. She tried not to think about Mark. The flight would take seven months before it arrived at its destination, a long arduous journey. All the rockets were functioning without any in-flight emergencies, and Susan gave herself permission to start living without Mark.

The psychiatrist's words about living with a terminally ill spouse came back to her. 'People, who accept death as inevitable, begin their mourning before their partner passes.'

She knew her willingness to begin living a separate life, did not diminish how much she loved Mark. Her resolve was marred by the waves of nausea that plagued her sporadically, but she continued with determination to pack up her house.

When Susan answered the doorbell a week later, she was expecting the real estate agent, but found an odd man standing on her porch. At first she thought he was a child, less than four feet tall, but when he looked up as she opened the door, she gasped. He flashed a familiar smile, but it was his emerald-green eyes that caught her off-guard. They were identical to Mark's.

"I'm Victor. I believe you were expecting me."

For a brief moment Susan was immobilized. The eyes were riveting and she stood mesmerized until she remembered Mark's final words. 'A man named Victor will come to see you. Listen with your heart.'

"Yes, of course," she said, recovering. "Please come in."

Victor made himself comfortable, sliding into one of the wing chairs across from the sofa where Susan sat down. "I take it you have been to the attorney's office and received all the documents?"

"No, I haven't. I don't think I can divorce Mark."

"Oh, dear, oh dear. Perhaps my visit is premature. I was sure you would have received the briefing and explanation."

"Briefing?"

Victor was agitated, squirming in the chair. "Perhaps I should return after you have had a chance to review the documents left for you by your husband."

"I was in no hurry to end my marriage. I'm confused. What relation do you have to my husband? What documents are you referring to? Is there more?"

Though still fidgeting, Victor seemed to come to a decision before he spoke. "In part, if you had retrieved the papers from your attorney, you would have learned that you are pregnant, but then maybe you already know this. I'm told women have an uncanny relationship with their bodies, some instinct that alerts them to new life."

Susan's jaw dropped as she fumbled to find her voice. "Pregnant? How would you know such a thing?"

"I activated the seeding, though against my better judgement. Mark is obliged to reproduce to confirm the results of his research. We naturally expected the coupling would take place on the way to Mars, assuring our planet two heirs."

"Wait, just wait a minute..."

"Of course. Without the preliminary information you were supposed to read, this is all overwhelming. My apologies."

Susan had not heard half of what Victor had said. Her mind was still reeling with the thought of pregnancy. Seeding? "Maybe you should start at the beginning. And before you say another word, please explain how you know Mark and how it is that you both have green eyes. Are you related?"

The little man looked confused. "Surely you know the beginning, don't you? I did not expect to relate the complete details of the experiment."

Every word Victor uttered sent Susan deeper into a spiral of uncertainty. "Experiment?"

"Oh my, my, my. You don't know anything, do you?"

Susan shook her head. "No, I don't. I married a doctor and he is on his way to Mars. Is that the experiment you mean?"

Victor clucked his tongue, a disapproving noise that spurred him to climb out of the chair and begin to pace the room. "Perhaps we should have some refreshments, some water, if you don't mind. I have a sixty-year legacy to condense. I need just a moment to gather my thoughts."

"Of course," Susan said, rising to get the water.

When she returned, Victor drank the water slowly then asked Susan a single question. "Did you know your husband was born in Roswell?"