Chapter 21
Ernie couldn’t take it anymore. All week he waited, and Millie didn’t call. When he was out on the Boston route, he called home every day, checking for messages. Nothing. He had to see her. And so here he was, driving two hours to get to Heller in the wee hours of the morning on his day off.
Never had he felt like this about another woman.
Everyone else paled in comparison. She hooked him the same way flying did.
He saw an airplane at a fair and knew that was what he was meant to do with his life.
Somehow Millie had uncovered some secret longing within him, and he felt like he could hardly draw breath without thinking of her.
Even flying didn’t take his mind off her. Instead, he was haunted by the ghost of her plane, following behind him, just as she had on the way to Chicago. In the air or on the ground, she consumed him.
“Ernie, what are you doing here? I thought you didn’t fly until Thursday.”
Good question. What was he doing here? He’d been so preoccupied with Millie, he forgot to come up with an excuse.
“There’s something I needed to see to,” he said lamely.
Fortunately, Jack shrugged and let it go. “How’s the Boston route treating you?”
“So far, it’s been fine. The weather has been cooperating. We’ll see how it goes as winter gets started in earnest.” Weather. Yes, weather was a safe topic.
Jack leaned in and murmured so that only Ernie could hear, “And how are things with Miss Aldrich? It’s such a shame she didn’t manage to break your record on Thursday. She got so close—just fifteen minutes behind.”
“She tried to break my record?” He had no idea. The news should have triggered his competitiveness, but instead, it made him miss her all the more.
“Yes, she did. The wind was against her, but watch yourself. Your record isn’t safe. It might not have happened this week, but it’s only a matter of time.”
“I’m not worried.” Not because he thought she couldn’t do it, but because he secretly hoped she would. For the love of God, what had come over him?
Jack leaned in close and whispered behind his hand, “Any more kissing?”
Oh, God. If only he knew. Ernie cleared his throat. “She’s not speaking to me at the moment, if you must know.”
Jack shook his head. “What did you do?”
“What did I do? Why do you assume it’s me? And maybe it’s for the best. Mr. Dickson would have our heads if he ever found out anything happened between us.”
“You don’t look like you think it’s for the best.”
“Shh. Someone’s coming.”
The door opened, and there she was in her cold-weather pilot garb, her cheeks rosy from the autumn chill. Their eyes met, and she froze.
Jack looked from one of them to the other as they stood still, gazing at each other as if no one else in the world existed. Backing out of the breakroom, Jack mumbled, “Catch you later, Ernie,” and disappeared.
Ernie’s heartbeat thundered in his ears.
“Pritchard,” she said at last in a gravelly voice. “I’ll get my coffee and leave you to your business.” She dove for the pot of hot sludge as if it was a life raft.
No. He couldn’t let her leave. Nor could he find words as he watched her pour herself a cup with slightly trembling hands.
“Millie, please,” he managed at last. “I’ve been waiting for you to call.” Not very smooth, but he might as well get to the point.
“We can’t talk about this here,” she said, taking a too-large gulp of coffee and coughing.
“Then where?”
“We can’t talk about this anywhere.”
That was what he was afraid of. What recourse did he have if she pushed him away?
He took a step toward her. She took a step back, holding her coffee in front of her as if she planned to defend herself with it.
“Millie, please. All I want to do is talk.”
That was a complete lie. He wanted to take her in his arms and kiss her senseless. He wanted to—
No. Best not to let his mind go there.
For now, he would take what he could get—anything to be close to her.
Her cup slowly lowered. Her lips parted. No sound came out.
“Please,” he whispered, putting all he felt in his heart into that tiny word.
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.
“All right,” she said at last. “But not here. I’ll call you from Bellefonte this evening. Then we’ll have some privacy.”
Thank God she caved.
“You still have my number?”
Her cheeks flushed pink, and she wouldn’t meet his eyes. “Yes.”
She patted her pocket. A wave of elation washed over him at the knowledge that she cared enough not only to keep it but to carry it with her. Perhaps all was not lost!
“I’ll be waiting by the phone.”
Her eyes flickered to him and then away.
“You should go before anyone comes in and gets suspicious. I already worry about what Thompson must think.”
Jack would keep their secrets. But she was right to be cautious.
“Of course,” he said. “I’ll talk to you tonight.”
He lingered a moment too long, and she shooed him out with her hand.
Rushing back to his car, he wasn’t sure if he was relieved or even more wound up than before.
She was going to call, but what would she say?
Clearly, she was hesitant to speak to him at all.
Whatever she had to say couldn’t be good.
He was only hastening his own demise by pushing to speak to her.
But he had to have a chance to make his case, which was… what exactly?
Oh, dear. What was he going to say? He hadn’t a clue. All he knew was that he needed to see her again. And again. And again. Until either this mad infatuation petered out or they wound up married.
Ernie nearly crashed into a lamppost when the word “married” crossed his mind.
How could a word that felt so wrong for him until moments ago suddenly feel so right?
He imagined what life would be like married to her, waking up every day with her in his arms. They would fly around the world together.
And when they were ready, they would have tiny, feisty, little pilot babies with big blue eyes and golden hair like their mama.
Oh, dear Lord. Was he in love with Millie Aldrich?
The thought made him shiver in horror. Of all the people in the world to fall for, why did it have to be her?
They barely got along, except when they were in bed.
Then he thought about their study date that ended at the speakeasy.
He was hard pressed to come up with another evening he’d enjoyed more, despite their skirmishes.
And what about that snow day in Bellefonte, throwing snowballs and eating an awkward dinner with Jack?
She made him laugh. They had fun together.
He’d never met another woman so daring and brave.
It wasn’t just the sex. Something about her appealed to him deeply.
He wanted to spend time with her, hear what she had to say.
Even their arguments he enjoyed. She was a strong woman with strong views, and he respected that.
He had it bad. There was no denying it.
When he got home, he had the house to himself. The twins were at school. Constance was in class. His mother was out running errands. Pop was out at the church, as always.
He sat down at the desk in the sitting room and pulled out a pen and paper. Maybe he could find the right words to make his case before Millie called.
Fifteen minutes later, the page in front of him was still blank. He put down the pen in defeat. Writing had never been his strong suit.
Inspiration. That was what he needed. Going over to the bookshelf, he pulled down the collected works of Shakespeare. Surely the Bard would have a line or two he could use.
He remembered reading “Much Ado about Nothing” in high school. Beatrice and Benedick bickered like him and Millie, and they fell in love. Maybe there was a line that would suit?
At last, he found the right words and wrote them across the top of his paper.
“I love you with so much of my heart that none is left to protest.”
She had defeated him, utterly. He had lost the fight and was glad of it.
But did he dare state his feelings so plainly? What if she rejected him out of hand? He couldn’t make a declaration of love over the phone. He needed to see her, hold her hand in his as he spoke, look into her eyes.
What he needed to do was convince her to see him.
If he could get her to agree, he could pour out his heart in person.
He could only pray she didn’t laugh or run away when he stated his case.
Somehow, he suspected she wouldn’t. She was soft-hearted underneath her bristly persona.
She cared about Vera, and her friend, Katherine.
No, she wouldn’t laugh. At the very least, she would hear him out.
“Son?”
Pop’s voice interrupted Ernie’s reverie. Turning around, he saw a smile on his father’s usually stern face. Pop stood there in a starched suit a decade out of date with his mangled hand in his pocket looking amused for once instead of judgmental.
“You look like I did when I was working up the courage to ask for your mother’s hand. Who is this woman that’s got you pulling out the Shakespeare?”
Did he dare tell? While Pop was stern with his family, with his congregation, he put on a kindly face.
The kind of face you couldn’t help but trust. When Pop gave a certain look—head tilted, brow furrowed, an indulgent smile playing across his lips—people couldn’t help but spill their sins and seek absolution.
That was the look he was giving Ernie right now.
He had the same, sympathetic, penetrating, dark eyes as Constance.
Ernie was no more immune than any other member of his father’s flock.
He never had been able to keep a secret when confronted.
“Her name is Millie. I think I’m in love with her, Pop, but at the moment she barely wants to speak to me.”
His father’s grin widened. “Someone finally captured your heart, eh? Glad to hear it. It’s about time you put an end to your wandering ways.”
“Pop, I didn’t—”
“Yes, you did. You think I didn’t know what you’ve been up to, going out all the time?”
Ernie’s face burned. All this time, he thought he’d been discreet. Of course, Pop knew he went out, but Ernie always said he was going out to meet friends. He didn’t realize Pop saw right through him.
Barely able to meet his father’s eyes, he said, “I didn’t know you knew.”
Pop put a hand on Ernie’s shoulder and shook his head.
“I know I’ve been hard on you growing up, but it’s only because I want you to be better than me.
” He took a deep breath and let it out. “I was young and handsome once too, you know. I did things I regret before I met your mother. And the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, as they say. ” Pop’s eyes bored into him.
Ernie tried to wrap his head around this new information. His father had always seemed rigid, unyielding, but suddenly he was all too human—a man who made mistakes, a man with a past.
“But if you knew, why didn’t you say something?”
His father shook his head. “I’ve done the best I can to teach you the difference between right and wrong. But you’re a grown man. I see what you do for our family and what it costs you. I may not like it, but I understand all too well. And it’s not my place to tell you what to do any more.”
Pop squeezed Ernie’s shoulder.
“Besides, I knew the right woman would come along eventually to straighten you out. I prayed for you, and now I see my prayers have been answered.”
Ernie always thought Pop was born pious. And yet, now that he knew, it made perfect sense.
“You should invite Millie over for dinner. I’d love to meet her,” Pop continued.
“I’ll think about it.”
He couldn’t imagine inviting Millie over for dinner. Especially not when she was barely willing to speak to him. Though he’d have to do it eventually now that Pop had raised it. But that was a problem for another time.
The phone rang.
Ernie ran for it, his father chuckling behind his back.
“Pritchard residence,” he said, picking up.
“Ernie?”
It was Millie. Thank God.
“Yes, it’s me.”
There was a long silence.
“What did you want to say?”
It was now or never.
“I have feelings for you, Millie. I need to see you again.”
I have feelings for you? That was the best he could do? And no preamble either. He just dove in.
“Ernie, I…” She tapered off.
“There’s something between us. I know it. You feel it too. I’m certain.”
Maddening silence. How could she deny this?
He thought of the night after her first flight over Hell’s Stretch when they each thought the other was lost. She devoured him with such desperation he could hardly keep up.
She felt the tug between them every bit as much as he did.
It was clear in her eyes, in her actions, in everything but her words.
“I do,” she admitted at last, and Ernie’s heart soared. There was hope!
“But nothing about our circumstances has changed,” she continued. “This is as bad an idea as it ever was.”
“We can keep it secret. No one has found us out yet. If we’re careful, I don’t see why we can’t keep it that way.”
He wished it wasn’t necessary, but he understood.
She sighed. “All right. This is a terrible idea, but I can’t fight it anymore. Meet me at the Blind Pig at eight o’clock on Monday.” She gave him an address, which he scribbled down in a rush.
Ernie exhaled. “Thank you, Millie. You won’t regret it.”
“I already regret it.”
“But—”
“Don’t worry. I’ll be there anyway. I promise.”
He hated that she already regretted this, but it wasn’t worth arguing.
“All right.”
“Listen, Ernie, I should go. There’s someone waiting to use the phone booth.”
Much as he wished he could keep her on the line until he’d soothed all of her doubts, he knew he had to let her go.
“Be safe out there. I’ll see you Monday.”
“See you Monday.”
There was a click, and he hung up the receiver. Monday seemed an eternity away.