Wings

And it was only as they left the church that she looked up and saw Desmond Williams. She couldn't even imagine how he had known, and then she realized the wire services had been there and it was probably all over the papers. She was a star now, and her brother's death in an air show was big news. But she was glad he had come anyway. There was something comforting about seeing him there. And she reached out to him as they left the church, and thanked him for coming. She asked him to come to the house afterward, with their other friends, and once he arrived she could tell him how much his coming meant to her. He nodded, and then she started to cry, and he just held her in his arms, feeling awkward. He didn't know what to say or do, he just held her, hoping that was enough. And then he saw her arm, and moved her gently.

“Are you all right? How bad is it?” He had been very worried when he heard she'd been burned trying to save her brother.

“I'm okay. Billy and I pulled him out, and… and… he was still burning.” The image she created was so horrible that it almost made him sick. But he was reassured when she told him the doctors weren't worried about her. He told her he wanted it checked out in LA when she got back. And he made a point of talking to her parents, and chatting with Billy for a while. And then he left. He said he was flying back that night. He had just wanted to be there for her, and she was glad he'd come. It meant a lot to her, and she told him.

‘Thank you, Desmond… for everything…” He didn't mention the world tour, but she knew it was on his mind. And she was still planning to talk to her father. But she had already told Desmond she wanted to stay home for a week or two, with them, and he told her to stay as long as she wanted.

She walked back outside with him, and he hugged her, and then he left, looking very somber. And when she went back inside, her father was crying and said that Chris had done it for him, and he should never have let him.

“He did it because he wanted to, Dad,” Cass said quietly, “We all do. You know that.” It was true in her case, but not in Chris's, but she felt she at least owed her father that. “He told me before he went up that he wanted to do it He liked it.” It was a lie, but a kind one.

“He did?” Her father looked surprised, but relieved as he dried his eyes, and took another shot of whiskey.

That was a nice thing you did for him,” Billy said to her later, and she only nodded, thinking of something else.

“I wish Nick were here,” she said quietly. And then Billy decided to tell her what he'd done.

“I sent him a telegram the night it happened. I think they're pretty reasonable about granting leave to volunteers. I don't know, I just thought…” He wasn't sure if she'd be mad at him, but it was obvious now that she wasn't.

“I'm glad you did,” she said gratefully, and stood around looking at their friends.

It was a miserable reason to get together. She wondered then if Nick would come, if he could get away, or they would let him.

She sat for hours with her parents that night, talking about Chris, and the things he'd done as a child. They cried and they laughed, and remembered the little things that meant so much to them now that he was no longer with them.

The next morning Cassie dropped by the hospital, to have them look at her arm. They changed the dressings for her and then she went back to the house to sit with her father.

He hadn't gone to the airport since the accident, and Billy was taking care of things for him. Cassie stopped there on the way, and Billy asked her how her dad was.

“Not so great.” He'd been drinking that morning when she left him after breakfast He just couldn't face what had happened yet. He only drank in moments of great stress or celebration, and when she went back, he was sitting alone in the living room and crying.

“Hi, Dad,” she said as she came in. She had lain awake all night, thinking of how she had resented Chris, of how often she had thought her father liked him better. She wondered if Chris had ever known it. She hoped not. “How're you feeling?”

He just shrugged and didn't bother to answer. She talked about some of their visitors then, and about stopping to see Billy at the airport. But for once, her father didn't ask how things were there.

“Did you see Desmond Williams here yesterday?” she said, groping for things to say to him as he looked up at her blankly. But at least this time he answered.

“Was he here?” She nodded, and sat down next to him. “That was nice of him. What's he like, Cass?” Her father had talked to him briefly, but he didn't remember in the agony of the day.

“He's very quiet, very honest… hardworking… lonely.” They were odd things to say about the man she worked for. “Driven, I guess, would be the right word. He lives for his business. It's all he has.”