Wings

“You know what I mean. Maybe we're cowards about people,” she said cautiously.

“Maybe we're just not stupid. I think being married to the wrong person is about as bad as it gets. Believe me, I tried it.”

“Are you telling me he's the wrong person for me?” Cassie asked him in an undertone as Bobby waited for her patiently on the porch. He had already heard that she'd been a two-time winner at the air show.

“I can't tell you that, Cass. Only you know that. But don't let anyone else tell you he's the right one either. You figure it out. If you don't, you'll be awfully sorry later.” She nodded at the unexpected wisdom of his words, and then hugged him again for all he'd done for her.

“I'll see you at work tomorrow.” She was going to be working at the airport all summer. Her father was going to let her quit her job at the restaurant and work for him, for a pittance. She wondered if her father would let her do cargo runs alone. She wondered if her performance in the air show was going to change things.

She hopped lightly out of the truck, with a last look at Nick, and then went to talk to Bobby. He had waited a long time for her, and he was pleased that she had won, but he looked annoyed as she hurried over. He had been worried sick all afternoon, working in his father's store, and terrified he would hear of a disaster at the air show. And now she looked as breezy as could be, as though she'd gone into town to go shopping with her sisters.

“It's not fair to me, Cass,” he said quietly. “I was worried about you all afternoon. You don't know what it's like, thinking of all the horrible things that could happen.”

“I'm sorry, Bobby,” she said quietly, “but it was a special day for me.”

“I know,” he nodded, but he didn't look pleased. None of her sisters flew, what was she trying to prove? He really didn't want her to keep on flying, and he said so. But now was not the time, and Cassie suddenly looked as angry as he did.

“How can you say that to me?” She had come too far now, the air show, her father, all those years of lessons with Nick. She wasn't coming down ever again now. She was up there. And she was staying, whether Bobby liked it or not. He figured that eventually he'd change her. But by the end of the summer he had come to understand that he had allied himself with a family of fliers, and blood ran thicker than engagements. For the moment, all he could do was ask her to be careful. And she was, of course, but not because of Bobby. She was just good at what she did. And she flew constantly. By fall, when Jackie Cochran won the Bendix Trophy race from Burbank to Cleveland, Cassie was starting to fly mail runs for her father. He was sure of her flying by then, and had had her fly him all over the state herself. He had finally admitted to Nick that he was right. It was a coincidence of course, and you couldn't really trust a female the way you could a male, but she was a damn good pilot. Of course, Pat never said as much to Cassie.

She stayed on at Bradley for her sophomore year, and worked at the airport all through the winter. She helped out on several emergencies, flew with Nick whenever she could, and by spring she was an accepted member of the team at the airport. She flew everywhere, short runs, long, and of course she was practicing again for the summer air show. She went out to practice sometimes with Nick, and their time together reminded her of their years of lessons. But now they had time to talk at the airport, while they worked, and more than once, she joined him flying cargo or mail runs.

She was still engaged to Bobby Strong, but his father had been sick all year, and he had more responsibilities at the store now. He seemed to be visiting Cassie less and less often. And she was so busy, sometimes she didn't even notice.

Hitler occupied the rest of Czechoslovakia in March, and became more of a threat than ever. Once again, there was talk of war, and fear of an American involvement. Roosevelt continued to promise that it wouldn't happen this time. And Nick continued not to believe him.

When Charles Lindbergh returned from Europe in the spring of 1939, he was the most outspoken champion of America staying out of the war. And Pat was glad to hear it. He believed whatever the famed aviator had to say. To Pat O'Malley, the name of Lindbergh was still sacred.

“We don't belong in the next one, Nick. We learned our lesson in the last one.” Pat was adamant. He was sure the United States would never get pulled into another war in Europe. But there was already trouble between the Chinese and the Japanese. Mussolini had taken Albania. And Hitler seemed to be looking toward Poland.