Chapter 2 #2
“I’ll draw my own conclusions then, shall I?” He waggled his eyebrows. “Have you two been canoodling?” If he put Hank on the spot, maybe he’d forget what Bill almost said.
“Dammit, O’Donnell,” Hank said, slamming his empty glass on the bar. Heads turned all around them, then went back to their business when they saw the drama was momentary.
Thank God. It worked.
Clearly, Hank was in a bad way. Bill had never seen him like this. Rory Belmont had him tied up in so many knots, he would never undo them all. Neither of them seemed capable of walking away. It all sounded suspiciously like love.
Bill, on the other hand, was as far from finding love as ever.
He played the gallant and then let them go because that was all he could bring himself to do.
He had yet to find a woman who fell for him the way Rory had for Hank, and, truth be told, he was envious.
He was a foolish romantic, he supposed—a foolish romantic with blue balls.
Someday, though, he would meet the right woman, and he’d know.
She would be absolute perfection, just like Hank said.
She didn’t need to be beautiful, though Bill wouldn’t mind if she was.
It was her inner beauty that mattered. She would be kind and caring.
Everyone who knew her would love her. She would have a generous spirit, always thoughtful in word and deed.
Her intelligence would sparkle. And for some reason, this paragon of a woman would find his endless palaver endearing.
She wouldn’t mind that no matter how much he exercised and ate, he never seemed to bulk up.
He was eternally a beanpole, like his father.
She would see past his flaws and nonsense and love him for his true self. And that was all that mattered.
“I think I’m falling in love with her,” Hank mumbled into the new drink the bartender just delivered to him.
And there it was—the confession he’d been waiting for.
And yet something still held him back from admitting his own sentiments to his friend.
How would Hawley react? Maybe it was best to keep things light.
“Yes, I think you might be, you pathetic gorilla. I’ve never seen you like this. I hope you let Dorothy down easy.”
Hank chuckled. “Dorothy is just fine without me. It was never serious between us. When I ended things, she asked about you, you know. Seems she has a soft spot for Irish gossips.”
Bill’s eyebrows shot up. “Dorothy asked about skinny old me? But she’s…
” He made the shape of a voluptuous figure with his hands.
Dorothy was very lovely indeed, but as usual these days, he would have ended up fixing her leaky faucet and fleeing for the hills.
He knew very well what sort of arrangement she had with Hank, and while he might once have jumped at it, the offer held no appeal at present.
Hank shrugged. “No accounting for taste, but you might ring her up if you’re interested. That is if you haven’t found true love with this Edith you mentioned.”
Knowing he absolutely would not be calling Dorothy, he cleared his throat. “Good to know. I’ll be sure to give her a call.”
“She’s so goddamn beautiful,” Hank mumbled into his drink.
“I assume we’re not talking about Dorothy?”
Giving him a “don’t be ridiculous” look, Hank hunched on his barstool. “She’s smart and brave and creative and daring and…” He tapered off and stared into the depths of his drink.
“She sounds very nice.” Bill could hear the note of envy in his own voice, and he wanted to kick himself.
Hank laughed. “Nice. I’m sure she’s kind and caring, but Rory Belmont isn’t a nice girl. She very much falls in the naughty category, just where I like her.”
That sounded more like the old Hank, which was a bit disappointing. But Bill bit his tongue. After all, this was the type of juicy gossip Bill supposedly lived for. “Do tell.”
“The first time I met her, she was in my goddamn Jenny, pretending she was about to take off.” Hank stared at the propeller mounted on the wall wistfully.
“When did you meet, by the way? It was before that time she visited the airfield with her father. Don’t think I missed how you looked at each other that morning.”
“You want to know?” Hank asked, focusing too intently on Bill with his drunken gaze. “You really want to know?”
“Yes, I do.”
“She sneaked away from her engagement party and climbed into my airplane like she was planning to steal it.”
“No.” The thought of the Princess of New York fleeing a party and climbing into one of their rundown old Jennies defied belief.
“Oh yes. Of course, I escorted her back to her party where she belonged. What choice did I have?”
“None at all.” Bill couldn’t believe what he was hearing.
“I woke up in the middle of the night to see a gorgeous blonde straddling my control stick with her satin skirts hiked to her creamy thighs. Can you imagine?”
“I really oughtn’t.” But he did. How could he not?
That mental image should have lit him up like a firework.
Instead, he wished Hank hadn’t said it. What he really wanted to know about was Hank’s heart, and it made him uncomfortable to talk about Miss Belmont like she was any other of Hank’s conquests.
There was clearly something more between them.
“And then she showed up the next morning with her father, cool as a cucumber. I’ve been lost ever since. I don’t think I’ll ever recover.” Hank emptied his glass.
It was getting toward time to get his friend home before he drank himself into a stupor. Or confessed anything more that Bill shouldn’t hear.
“Hello, gentlemen.” A curvy brunette sauntered up to the counter for a drink.
“What are you boys doing this evening?” There was a blonde in tow who looked ill at ease with her friend’s flirtation.
If Hank wasn’t in such a state, Bill might have had a go at charming the blonde.
But he knew he’d only end up changing her lightbulbs.
He should make his escape while he could.
“Hmm?” said Hank, narrowing and widening his eyes as if trying to bring the ladies into focus.
“I’m sorry, ladies, but my friend here is completely blotto, ossified…utterly spifflicated. I need to get him home.” Fortunately, Hank was too far gone to object.
The brunette shrugged. “Another time then.” She smiled, and the two women walked away to a table with their drinks.
“Come on, Hank. Let’s get you home, ya big lug. We both have to fly tomorrow.”
Hank threw down a whole dollar to cover their drinks, even though they’d only spent maybe thirty cents between them. Bill tucked the dollar back in Hank’s billfold and put down four dimes. Then he hefted Hank from the chair, not an easy feat, given his size.
Hank lurched up and wobbled. Bill put an arm around him. “That’s it. You remember walking, right, you big baboon?”
“Hmph,” was all the answer he got as they made their way to Hank’s place a few blocks away.
After seeing Hank safely to his door, Bill sauntered back to his tiny apartment above a barbershop on Front Street, just two blocks away from his parents’ house.
He had the money to buy a house like Hank had, but was saving everything he could for that Lawson C-1.
He was a bachelor and didn’t need much. If he kept putting his pennies away, someday he might be able to make his dream a reality.
The walk back was pleasant in the balmy summer evening.
He looked up at the night sky and wondered where his love might be that very moment.
She was out there, he was sure. Or mostly sure.
It was only a matter of time before they met.
He had to be patient. Love would come in its own time.
He just had to be ready and pray she would see past his humor to his heart.