"What hotel did NASA put you in? Maybe I sold them their mattresses. You want to make sure you get a good night's sleep."
"You're going to smash it, Mom. I just know it," Madeline said.
Angela chimed in. "I'm so excited for you. Do you know for sure they're taking the cream into space, or are they still evaluating it?"
"They mentioned eight months of testing, so we won't know for sure until after that. But even if NASA passes on it, it's still an amazing moisturizer that we can launch as part of the Bella Pelle line. It would just mean bringing it to market sooner."
"I'd love to write about the whole thing if it works out, if that's okay. I think it would make a fantastic story."
Angela was heading into her sophomore year at Smith College with dreams of becoming a writer. She had already made connections and written a few magazine articles. Bella was admittedly biased, but she thought Angela's work was excellent.
"Have you received your invitation to the Discovery Dinner & Dance yet?" Big G asked.
"The what?"
"Mom, it's a huge NASA party every year," Madeline explained. "All the companies they work with get invited to mingle with astronauts. It's basically a giant schmooze-fest, but it looks really cool. I've seen pictures online. Are you going? You should make connections so when I finish hospitality school, they can hire me to run their events."
Madeline would soon be heading back to the UK to begin studying event management. She had an incredible eye for planning parties, menus, and themes.
"I haven't received an invitation yet, and you know I'm not a big party person, so we'll see."
"Mom, how could you have been a rock-star wife and not love a good party? That makes no sense. I swear you were the most boring rock-star wife ever."
Everyone laughed because, honestly, it was true.
"Phil told me all the vendors NASA works with are invited," Big G said. "You have to go if you get the invitation. It's usually in November, but they give plenty of notice. You should be getting yours soon. You'll go there and knock those space guys on their butts. The stars in the sky have nothing on my baby girl."
"Your dad is right, Bella," Mary said. "If nothing else, it's good networking. You've invested a lot in the company, and a lot of people depend on Bella Pelle for their livelihoods. You need to take advantage of every opportunity that comes your way."
"Okay, okay, I'll go if I get the invitation. Now, is it time for dessert? Because I've got room for one of Big G's cannoli."
Chapter 6
NASA Johnson Space Center, Houston Texas
IIt was 6:00 a.m., and 50-year-old Captain Jack Calloway, a US Navy fighter pilot and commander of the Diana IV mission, sat at the briefing table eating breakfast with the rest of the crew who would be joining him in space: Lt. Commander Michael Rendit, mission specialist and Jack's best friend; mission specialist Margaret Sadlowski, a geologist slated to be the first woman to walk on the moon; and Captain Elena Vasquez, who would pilot the mission. Joining them was Dr. Phil Campbell.
Skimming over the day's schedule, Jack blinked and did a double take when he saw "Bella Pelle: Skincare in Space" booked for 1300 hours.
"Phil, what kind of happy horseshit is this?" Jack said, looking up from the schedule.
He might not be active-duty Navy anymore, but he still swore like a sailor when the situation called for it.
"Ahh, yes. I might have failed to mention that we have a new experiment we're running for this mission, studying the effects of space on the skin. Bella Pelle is the company we'vehired to develop a cream we hope will help prevent damage while in space. Their owner will be coming in to give a presentation on the product, as well as give you all samples to start using daily."
"Phil. I've flown F-14s and F/A-18s in combat. I've been on two space missions and spent six months on the International Space Station. Do you think I give a crap whether my skin is soft and glowing or not?"
"Jack, if you came back from space with glowing skin, then you'd be in quarantine and we'd be wondering if you had an alien baby inside you."
"It's dewy. You want dewy skin," said Margaret, aka Margie.
"Oh, look at you, Captain. Your skin is positively radiant!" snickered Lt. Commander Michael Rendit.
"Har-dee-har-har, Mike. I don't want any kind of skin—well, I mean I obviously want skin—but in all seriousness, Phil, is this really something we need to spend precious resources on?"
"Jack, believe it or not, it is. We are sending you to the moon, and hopefully after that we are sending men and women to Mars. We must know what to expect for everything the human body might go through on a year-long mission like that, including the skin. We already know spaceflight causes significant, rapid skin changes and accelerated aging. The combination of microgravity, high radiation, and dry cabin environments leads to increased sensitivity, delayed wound healing, and impaired barrier function. We need something to counter that. We've been working with one of the best companies out there, and they are coming in to present their formula to us. The head of the company will be here all week, working with your team and the department to answer anyquestions we might have, as well as checking how the skin holds up during some of the simulations we've got planned this week, like the high-G, weightlessness, and pool training. That will give them time to make any adjustments they might need if the cream doesn't perform as expected."
"C'mon, Jack, it's not that bad. Maybe they'll teach you how to properly use a face mask," Elena weighed in.
