Chapter 27
Taking off his work boots and leaving them in the entryway, Ernie tiptoed upstairs in socked feet, careful not to touch anything.
After a long day’s work at the construction site, he was filthy and stinky.
And the last thing he wanted was to face the barrage of kindness his family had been throwing at him ever since he was fired.
All he wanted was a shower and some quiet time with his sketch pad.
“Ernie, is that you?” Constance asked, poking her head out of the sitting room as he passed.
Caught.
He sighed. “Yes, it’s me.”
“You look exhausted.”
“I am. The new job is hard work. Not that I mind. I’m grateful to have a job at all.”
And it kept his mind off Millie. Mostly.
It was hard to think of anything at all with all the heavy labor and banging.
It had been a month since he’d last seen her, and she hadn’t reached out once.
He was starting to wonder if their whole relationship was a dream, and he was only just now waking up.
“Are you still planning to go out with Jack tonight? He stopped by to ask.” Constance’s cheeks pinkened.
If something was up between her and Jack, he needed to nip that in the bud. Constance deserved someone stable and reliable—in other words, anyone but a pilot. And definitely not Jack, who had already broken her heart once without knowing it.
After a long day at work, he didn’t really want to go out, but maybe he needed to have a few words with his friend about keeping his distance. “I’m pretty beat, and, truth be told, I completely forgot we made plans. But maybe I should go.”
Constance narrowed her eyes at him. “Well, I think you should. It might cheer you up to go out. You used to do it all the time.” Her smile was a little too bright.
Oh, God. Was Constance worried about him? That was the last thing he wanted. He was trying so hard to make everyone around him worry less. “Since when are you in favor of my going out on the town?”
“Since you stopped doing anything you like and started holing up in your room for hours on end every night.”
Dammit. She was worried. “I’m fine. It’s just that construction is tiring work.”
She crossed her arms. “And hungry work, but you hardly touch your food.”
There was no denying that. He’d barely been able to eat since that awful conversation with Millie.
Try as he might to stop thinking about it, he couldn’t.
It kept replaying in his mind as he tried to put himself back together.
The whole call last three minutes, and bam!
He lost the woman he loved and the job he’d put his heart and soul into.
How had he gone so quickly from being the happiest he’d ever been to being so miserable everything he ate tasted like ash?
“I eat when I’m out. I’m not hungry when I get home.” He didn’t, but she didn’t need to know that.
“Liar.” She always did see through him far too easily. “Now, go take your shower, put on some clean clothes, and go out on the town with your best friend. It’ll do you good.” She made a shooing motion with her hands.
In that moment, Constance looked so much like Mom, he almost laughed. “Whatever you say, sis.”
He started to climb the stairs.
“And eat something while you’re out, will ya?”
Pausing, he turned to look at her. She stood at the base of the stairs with her hands on her hips and a stern expression on her face, only increasing the resemblance. “You’re skin and bones.”
A chuckle bubbled up inside him and escaped. It was his first real laugh in a long time. “Aye, aye, captain!” He gave her a silly salute with extra flourishes, and she smiled and shook her head.
Good. He’d cheered her up, and maybe he’d cheered himself up a bit too. It had been far too long since he’d laughed.
He grabbed a clean set of clothes from his room and headed to the bathroom.
As he showered, he mostly managed to keep his thoughts in check.
He needed a plan for the future—one that didn’t involve Millie or the airmail.
Most of all, he wanted to get back to flying.
Construction was fine to pass the time and tide the family over, but he was a pilot for God’s sake.
There had to be some way to get back up in the air.
Should he have a go at barnstorming? No. That only made him think of Millie. And besides, where would he get an airplane? Old army cast-offs were cheap, but not cheap enough for his non-existent budget.
Maybe he should reach out to Hawley to see if he could put in a good word with Mr. Curtiss about him. It had been ages since he’d seen Hawley. Ever since little Tabitha came along, Hawley had been too busy to go out much. But surely, he’d help an old friend in need.
He dried off and dressed with brisk efficiency, trying not to envy Hawley’s comfortable circumstances and domestic bliss. His friend had been through the wringer with that awful accident before he married Miss Belmont. He deserved every bit of happiness he'd found since.
Ernie looked at himself in the mirror. There wasn’t much he could do about the dark circles under his eyes or the new hollows under his cheeks, but he’d have to make the best of things.
The doorbell rang just as Ernie finished combing and pomading his hair. Though he took the steps two at a time, he didn’t manage to beat Constance to the door.
“Hiya, Jack,” he said a little too loudly as he bounded toward the door, interrupting a tête-à-tête in hushed tones.
They both turned worried gazes toward him. So, they’d been talking about him. Wonderful.
“Why are you two looking at me like that?”
“Like what?” Jack said, all innocence as he took a quick step back from Constance.
“Like I’ve recently contracted the Spanish flu, and you don’t want to tell me.”
Constance huffed. “We’re just worried about you is all. Now, go out and have a good time. You deserve a break.”
He didn’t. Not after he’d ruined his family’s fortunes over nothing. But the only way to appease them was to comply. “I’m going. I’m going.”
He held up his hands in surrender and pulled his coat and hat from the stand in the vestibule, putting them on.
Easing out the door under Constance’s censorious gaze, he headed down the front steps, enjoying the invigorating shock of winter air.
Jack followed close behind. As soon as the door closed behind them, Jack turned toward him and gave him a friendly elbow in the side.
“Hiya, Ernie. It’s good to see you at long last. You look like shit. ”
“Gee thanks.” Stuffing his hands in his pockets, he strode down the street toward Frankie’s Pub, their usual watering hole. He couldn’t have changed that much, could he? It had only been a month. “You know, you didn’t look so great yourself after the breakup with Myrtle.”
He’d probably regret bringing up Jack’s former fiancée, but who was Jack to judge? They all went through rough patches from time to time. That was life. If Ernie looked a little worse for wear, so what? Did Jack have to rub his face in it?
“Touché, my friend.” Jack shrugged.
They started to cross the street, and a delivery truck came barreling toward them out of nowhere. Its brakes screeched as it ground to a halt just in time, making Ernie’s heart pound.
Jack, banged on the hood. “Hey, I’m walkin’ here!”
The driver rolled down the window and leaned out. “Sorry, mister. Didn’t see you there.”
“A likely story. Well, next time, pay more attention, wouldja?” Jack narrowed his eyes at the man, who rolled up his window in a hurry. “Now, where were we?” He turned to Ernie and sauntered on as if nothing had happened.
Ernie’s heart was still racing. “You were telling me I look like shit.”
“Ah, yes.” Jack eyed him head to toe with a rueful expression. “Well, I’m just telling it like it is. Don’t shoot the messenger. Let me buy you a…umm…soda, and you can tell me all about your troubles.”
He gestured toward Frankie’s, which was only a few blocks from home.
It still had a mug of beer on the sign next to the name in raised red letters.
Frankie might have stopped serving booze with the start of Prohibition, but otherwise, the establishment hadn’t changed one iota.
The only difference was that everyone brought their own alcohol instead of buying it there.
Frankie sold them sodas at the same price they used to pay for drinks and gave them an extra, empty glass for whatever they chose to bring.
Too many cops patronized Frankie’s for the place to get busted, and Jack and Ernie had been regulars ever since they were old enough to drink.
They ordered two colas at the bar and took them to a table near the window, along with two empty glasses. Jack produced a flask with a grin and poured a healthy dram of whiskey in each of the empty glasses. “Now, then. Tell me all about why you look like something the cat dragged in.”
Ernie took a long sip. He’d mostly avoided drinking since everything went to hell, but damn, it felt nice sliding down his throat.
“I miss flying the mail.” It was as good a place to start as any.
Certainly, it beat talking about Millie.
“Hell, I miss flying at all. I’m a pilot, for God’s sake, not a carpenter. ”
Jack nodded sympathetically. “The boys and I have tried everything we can think of to convince Mr. Dickson to bring you back. He hasn’t hired anyone new yet, so we’re all flying extra days trying to cover your routes.
It’s a mess. We miss you something awful.
If there’s a way to bring you back, we will. ”
It warmed Ernie’s heart to hear that his colleagues were trying so hard. “Thanks, but I’m not holding out much hope. Mr. Dickson never liked me much in the first place.”
He took another sip. Flying the mail was the best job he’d ever had, even if he had to put up with an awful boss.
“I’ve been thinking I might reach out to Hawley, see if he can hook me up with something at Curtiss Aeroplane and Motor Company.
Maybe they need a test pilot. Hell, I’d even take a job on the factory floor if it meant I got to be near planes again. ”
“I think that’s a fine idea! You should ring him.” Jack smiled and raised his glass, taking a sip. “I’m sure he’d help you out.”
“Yeah? You don’t think he’s forgotten us little folk now that he’s married an heiress?” Some people had all the luck. Not that he begrudged Hawley, but it sure would have been nice to have a wife he adored along with having his money troubles wiped away.
Jack chuckled. “I see Hawley all the time. Don’t worry. He hasn’t changed a bit.”
“When do you see Hawley?” Ernie had hardly seen the man at all in God knew how long.
“I go over to his place, and we play chess and watch little Tabitha during Mrs. Hawley’s weekly visits to the airfield. It wasn’t enough to learn to fly. Now, she’s learning barnstorming tricks. That Mrs. Hawley is quite a woman.”
Ernie’s heart squeezed. Aurora Hawley was far too much like Millie. It was a wonder they had never met. He was sure they would have become best friends immediately.
“Have you heard from Millie?” Jack asked lightly, though he must have known darned well that hearing her name would send Ernie in a tailspin.
“Not a word.” Every time the phone rang at home, his heart skipped a beat, hoping it was her. But it never was. “I need to move on. She’s gone for good.”
He emptied his glass, and Jack refilled it.
“That’s women for you.” Jack took a long, slow drink. “One minute you’re on top of the world and the next…nothing.”
The bitter note in his friend’s voice didn’t escape him. Myrtle’s betrayal was a tough pill to swallow. And now that he’d lost Millie, he understood all too well. “Yeah.”
“How’s your family holding up? I know you losing your job has been rough on them too.”
Right. His family. Constance—the whole reason he agreed to come out tonight in the first place. “The family is fine.” More than fine. They’d been so understanding and supportive that it made him want to climb in a hole and never come out. “But, Jack…”
“Yes?” His friend took another sip of his drink.
“Is there something going on between you and Constance?” He held Jack’s gaze and watched his friend’s eyes widen and ears turn bright red.
“Not a thing. She’s like my kid sister. Always has been.” Jack took another long sip of his drink. “You’re imagining things.”
“Am I?” It felt good to turn the attention away from his own wreck of a life. Let Jack feel the heat for a bit.
Jack leaned forward and looked him in the eyes. “I swear to you that I have no designs on your sister. I never have and never will.”
“Good. See that it stays that way.” He sat back in his chair and finished off his drink, then took a sip of cola. God, he was tired. Now that he’d accomplished his mission, he wanted nothing more than to end the evening and head home.
“Don’t think I haven’t noticed that you’re trying to change the subject. At some point, you need to talk about Millie. The only way you’ll move on is if you admit she broke your heart.”
Ernie’s temper flared at his friend’s attempt to draw him out. He knew Jack meant well, but he was really pushing it. “Fine. She broke my heart. Are you happy?”
Saying she broke his heart felt like such an understatement.
Every part of him missed her. From his fingers to his toes, he ached with longing to have her back.
But he had to hold it together for the sake of his family.
“Listen, I’ve got to go. I have an early morning on the construction site tomorrow. ”
Jack sighed and drank down the last of his whiskey. “All right. I’ll let you off the hook this time but remember that I’m right next door if you ever need to talk about it.”
“Sure.” He got up and headed out without waiting for Jack.
He needed a little time in the icy air to clear his head and put his feelings back in a box where they belonged.
For his family, he had to be strong. For them, he had to forget Millie Aldrich ever existed and focus on building a future out of the rubble of his current circumstances.
A few snowflakes drifted down from the sky, and one landed on his nose. For a moment, he was transported to the Brockerhoff and that wonderful, marvelous, ruinous day in the snow. For a moment, Millie was his, and his horizons were endless.
And then it was over. He was back—plain old Ernie from Brooklyn with a family to support and a job to do in the morning. Squaring his shoulders, he strode home, determined to never think of Millie again.