Wings

“I'm okay,” she answered him, as he led her to a quiet spot, where they could sit down on a rock wall for a few minutes, and talk. There was so much to say, so much to catch up on. And he felt guilty suddenly for his silence.

“I was worried sick about you when you went down,” he said, and she looked away, thinking of Billy.

“It wasn't much fun,” she was honest with him. “It was pretty rough, and…” She had trouble saying it, and without thinking, he took her hand and held it in his own.“… it was awful when Billy…”

“I know.” She didn't have to say the words. He understood perfectly. “You can't blame yourself, Cass. I told you that a long time ago. We all do what we have to. We take our chances. Billy knew what he was doing. He wanted to fly the tour with you, for himself, not just for you.” She nodded, knowing the wisdom of his words, but it was small comfort.

“I never felt right that I made it back and he didn't.” It was the first time she'd said that to anyone, and she couldn't have said it to anyone but Nick. She always told him all her feelings.

‘That's life. That's not your decision. It's His.” He pointed toward the heavens, and she nodded.

“Why didn't you call when I got hack?” she asked sadly. They had gone right to the important things. They always did. He was like that.

“I thought about it a lot… I almost did call a couple of times,” he smiled, “when I had a pint or two under my belt, as they say here, but I figured your husband wouldn't like it much. Where is he now, by the way?” His question confirmed her suspicion and she smiled at him. It was funny sitting here, talking to Nick, as though he'd been waiting for her to arrive. It was all so simple suddenly. There they were, four thousand miles from home, and chatting on a rock wall in the autumn sunshine.

“He's in Los Angeles.” With Nancy Firestone. Or someone like her.

“I'm surprised he let you do this… or actually, I'm not,” Nick said, looking somewhat bitter. It had torn his heart out when he thought she was lost, and that bastard had risked her life to sell his airplanes. Desmond was the one he'd wanted to call, to tell him what a rotten sonofabitch he was. But he never did it. “I guess he figured this stuff would look good in the newsreels. Patriotic. One of the boys. Was it his idea or yours?” He wanted it to be hers, because he wanted to respect her for it.

“It was mine, Nick. I've wanted to do this for a long time, since the tour. But when I got back, I didn't feel right leaving Dad. It was hard on him even now. There's no one left to help him. He might even have to hire a few women finally, except that most of them are joining the WAFS, the FTC, or the Flying Training Command, like I did.”

“What do you mean you didn't feel right leaving him? Did you stay with them when you got back?” The bastard hadn't even had the decency to take care of her, and she must have been pretty sick after seven weeks starving on an atoll.

“Yes, I went back to them,” she said quietly, looking at him, remembering their one night of happiness in the moonlight. “I left Desmond, Nick. I left him when Dad had his heart attack,” It was over a year before, and Nick was stunned to realize he'd never heard it.

“When I went back to LA after the last time I saw you, things were just the way you said they were. He kept pushing me, press conferences, test flights, interviews, newsreels. It was everything you said it would be, but he didn't show his true colors until Dad got sick. He ‘ordered’ me to do the tour on schedule, and ‘forbade’ me to go back and see my father.”

“But you went anyway, didn't you?” He knew the trip had been postponed, and had seen a newsreel of her at the hospital, so he knew that much.

“Yeah, I went anyway, and Billy came with me. Desmond said he'd sue us if we didn't do the tour, and he made us sign contracts promising that we'd go in October no matter what.”

“Nice guy.”

“I know. I never went back to him. He never even called me. All he wanted was for me to keep it from the press till I got back. And you were right about the women too. Nancy Firestone was his mistress. Apparently, the only reason he married me was to publicize the tour, just as you said. He said it wouldn't have had ‘the same impact on the public’ without it. The marriage was a complete sham. And afterward, when they brought me back, he told me in Hawaii that I still worked for him, and he was going to sue me for not completing my contract. I'd promised him fifteen thousand miles in the North Star, and only made eleven before we went down. He figured he'd get some publicity out of me even then, but it was all over. Dad took me to a lawyer in Chicago, and I divorced him.”