Chapter 29
Ernie walked through the front door at the end of a long Monday, dirty and exhausted once again, and Constance practically pounced on him. “Mr. Burleson called. He says he wants to speak to you.”
That got his attention. Why would the postmaster general call? He’d never spoken to the man before.
“He asked to speak with you at your earliest convenience,” Constance said, grinning.
“Don’t get your hopes up, Constance. It’s probably nothing important. I’ll give him a call first thing tomorrow.” It was too late now. It was practically dinner time.
“But maybe he’ll give you your job back.” She looked far too eager and hopeful for his liking.
“I burned that bridge when I got caught with Millie. There’s no way he’s letting me back now.”
Constance’s face fell, but she nodded. “I should let you go upstairs to shower. See you at dinner?”
He didn’t particularly want to eat, but he knew his family would never let him get away with refusing.
“Of course. See you in a bit.”
Making his way up to the bathroom, he pondered all the possible reasons his former boss might call. Was it at all possible there was good news? He hardly dared hope. It was probably nothing—some minor bureaucratic detail that had to be wound up regarding his departure.
Shedding his clothes, he turned on the tap and stepped into the hot shower.
Water dripped down his aching muscles, leaching away the soreness.
Thoughts of Millie began to intrude. Imagined hands massaged his back and shoulders.
Then they wandered to his chest, caressing as ghostly lips kissed his neck. One hand traveled down and—
No.
He adjusted the temperature of the water to cold and quickly finished his ablutions.
Wrapping himself in a towel, he rushed to his bedroom to change into clean clothes for dinner.
When he came down for dinner, Prudence and Verity were whispering excitedly, clearly ready to burst with a secret.
Ernie loved them, but he really had no patience for the nonsense of teenage girls right now. All he wanted was to eat his meal in peace and hide up in his room.
Mom brought in a meat loaf and mashed potatoes, followed by green beans and dinner rolls.
As she settled into her seat, she looked over at the girls and tsked. “Well, what is it? I know you’re not going to give us any peace until you’ve told us your news.”
Prudence looked at Verity who smiled and nodded. Brimming with pride, Prudence laid a small pile of dollar bills on the table.
“I sold my telescope to Benjie Stanton, and he gave me two whole dollars for it!”
“And I sold my mystery books to the used bookseller on Court Street. He gave me three dollars for twelve of them.”
Pushing the money toward Pop, Prudence said, “We wanted to help with the tuition for Constance so she can finish secretarial school.” The twins both wore wide grins.
Ernie felt like he’d been punched in the gut.
He’d bought Prudence that telescope and paid for Verity’s books. And now they were selling them because of him, because he’d failed them.
“Well, that’s mighty thoughtful of you, girls,” said Pop, accepting the money. “I’m proud of you for wanting to contribute. I’m sure Constance appreciates it very much, don’t you Constance?”
With a warm smile, Constance said, “I don’t know how to thank you. I can’t tell you how much it means to me. I promise we’ll buy them back as soon as I’m working.”
Guilt churned in Ernie’s gut. This was more than he could take.
“Mom, Pop, I’m not feeling well. May I be excused?”
He didn’t wait for an answer before running upstairs.
Picking up his sketch pad, he threw himself on the bed. What could he draw? Not his family. That hurt too much. Not his former colleagues. That hurt too much too. Certainly not Millie. His lamp. Yes. An inanimate object would do just fine.
With infinite care, he drew each accordion fold of his lampshade and traced the subtle bulge and taper of the blue ceramic base. He spent an hour perfecting the shading until there was a knock on his door.
“Ernie, it’s me,” said Pop. “Can I come in?”
Closing his eyes, Ernie took a deep breath. “Come in.”
“What’s that you’re drawing there?”
Turning the sketchbook, Ernie showed him.
Pop smiled and shook his head. “You know, I didn’t think it was possible to make a lamp look sad, but somehow you’ve managed it.”
The lamp sat alone on a field of black, only the faintest light escaping, creating a lighter gray circle. Pop was right. He’d drawn a sad lamp.
“You’re taking this hard,” Pop said, sitting on the bed beside him.
“And I can’t blame you. There are few things as demoralizing as having your livelihood taken away from you.
” He held up his mangled hand. “I remember well how I felt after the accident when I couldn’t get factory work or any other job for that matter.
Now you know how I felt watching you pick up my burden and take on caring for the family. ”
Ernie closed his eyes, embarrassed at his weakness in front of Pop who had been through so much worse. At least Ernie was still whole and healthy. He could figure out another career with time.
“It does get better with time,” Pop continued.
“You just have to surrender yourself to the love around you. Once you do that, everything seems better. Sometimes I think losing the use of my hand was the best thing that ever happened to me. It showed me as nothing else could how much my family loved me. It showed me God’s tender mercy.
I couldn’t go forward on my own strength.
I needed my family and my faith to carry me through.
And they did. And I’ll never stop being grateful. ”
Pop patted his hand. “Think about it, son. Try to let the love in instead of running away. It will make a world of difference. I promise.”
Let the love in. It was easier said than done. His whole body was tense from the effort to keep his emotions in check. If he let the love in, he would fall apart completely.
Giving Ernie’s hand one last squeeze, Pop stood up and left.
With his door closed, Ernie set aside his sketch pad and undressed for bed. He climbed under the covers and pulled them over his head.
Let the love in.
Gritting his teeth, he tried. He pictured his sisters’ faces and tried to be grateful instead of guilty. It felt like opening an infected wound. Tears came flowing out, and the pain was unbearable. But he kept trying.
Thank you, Prudence and Verity. What you’ve done means so much to me.
It hurt. Oh, how it hurt.
He should have been there for them. They should never have felt they had to sell their most treasured belongings.
Let the love in.
At last, exhaustion took him. He felt hollowed out, empty. And then a strange peace settled in. Maybe Pop was right after all.
In the morning, he felt steadier than he’d felt since that call from Millie. As he came into the kitchen for breakfast, his sisters eyed him cautiously as if he were a bomb that might go off.
“I’m sorry about last night,” he said, looking each of them in the eye. It wasn’t easy, but he made himself do it anyway. “Thank you for everything you’re doing for the family. We’ll get through this together.”
Prudence jumped up and wrapped him in a tight hug. Verity joined her, and then Constance.
“You know we love you, right?” said Constance, squeezing him tighter.
“Yes, I know. I love you too, more than I can say,” he said, hugging them back.
They let him up at last, and Mom served him a heaping plate of eggs and sausage with biscuits.
“Thanks, Mom.”
She squeezed his shoulder. “You didn’t eat last night. I know you need fuel for your work. You just eat up.”
Let the love in.
Taking a deep breath, he said a brief prayer over his meal and dove in.
“You know, you really should call Mr. Burleson,” said Constance as he was finishing up. “He sounded like he might have good news.”
He didn’t dare hope for any such thing, but he knew he had to get this over with. Handing his dishes over to Mom, he headed for the phone and tried to ignore the four sets of eyes following him.
Mr. Burleson couldn’t have good news, could he? What could possibly have changed?
Picking up the phone, he gave the operator the number and waited while the call connected. Mr. Burleson should be in by now. It was 8:30.
One ring. Two…
“Mr. Burleson’s secretary speaking.”
“Hello, this is Ernie Pritchard. He asked me to call.”
“Just one moment while I put you through.”
There were several clicks and a crackle. Then the man who held Ernie’s fate in his hands picked up. “Burleson speaking.”
Ernie cleared his throat. “Mr. Burleson, it’s Ernie Pritchard. My sister said you’d called.”
“Er, yes. Well, you see, I…” Mr. Burleson cleared his throat. “I, um, may have been hasty. We don’t have enough pilots for the Boston route, and we just received new funding to expand, thanks to Miss Aldrich’s air show. We need all the experienced pilots we can get.”
Air show? What air show? And what did he mean saying he may have been hasty?
“You’re giving me my job back, Mr. Burleson?” His voice had a strange breathy quality to it. This was too much to take in. Was it possible?
“Yes,” said Mr. Burleson curtly.
Hot dog! He was back in the airmail! Except… “What about Millie?”
He said it without thinking. It was probably a mistake to let the words out of his mouth. But if Millie got him his job back, returning the favor was the least he could do.
“If you’re asking if she is getting her job back, the answer is no. She didn’t even ask for it, thank God. She may have saved our funding for the airmail operation with her fancy flying, but there are limits to my magnanimity.”
Millie went to Mr. Burleson for him but not for herself? His heart skipped a beat.
“I’m not coming back unless Millie can come back too.” If she was going to go to battle for him, he had to return the favor. He held his breath as he awaited Mr. Burleson’s response.
“I’m afraid that’s out of the question.”
Ernie deflated. Of course, Mr. Burleson wouldn’t agree. He’d probably never wanted her to join in the first place.
“Pritchard, think of your family,” said Mr. Burleson. “Are you truly going to turn this down over a woman?”
Was he?
He clenched his fist around the telephone cord.
Just accept the job. Think of your sisters.
Instead, he said, “I should go to the press, you know.”
Ernest, stop. What are you doing?
“You never gave her a fair chance,” Ernie continued, “and the world should know it. She’s the best pilot I’ve ever seen.
You should have counted yourself lucky to have her, and instead you did everything possible to push her out.
Would you like women’s liberation protesters outside Heller Airport with lots of photographers taking pictures? Because that can be arranged.”
Now he’d done it. There was no going back after making a threat like that. Either Mr. Burleson would cave, or Ernie’s days with the airmail were over forever.
There was a long silence, followed by a weighty sigh.
“Fine,” Mr. Burleson said at last.
Ernie’s heart soared.
“But the only way we could even consider this is if you marry her. After that tabloid article, it would be indecent to bring her back unwed. We’d be inviting more scandal.”
And his heart sank again. He wanted to propose, but not at Mr. Burleson’s behest.
“No. She comes back regardless, or no deal.”
This was probably the stupidest thing Ernie had ever done, but he couldn’t stop himself. He loved Millie too much to propose because someone else told him to.
The silence on the other end of the phone extended until Ernie could hardly stand it.
“You win,” Mr. Burleson said at last. “Protesters at the airport would be worse than a scandal sheet article. I can’t let you stir up trouble. Just try to stay out of the papers or you’ll make a laughingstock of us all.”
“Thank you, Mr. Burleson! You won’t regret it.”
He won, he won, he won! Now he had to call Millie to give her the good news. Except she’d never given him her number. Damn.
“I regret it already, Pritchard. But you and Miss Aldrich have backed me into a corner. Mr. Dickson is expecting you at 8 a.m. on Tuesday, and you had better not be late.”
Mr. Burleson hung up.
Ernie put down the receiver and did a little dance, waving his arms around and jumping up and down.
“Good news, son?”
Pop walked in, and Ernie immediately stopped his antics.
“I’ve got my job back.”
He was grinning ear to ear.
His father opened his arms and folded him in a hug.
“Thank you, Jesus.”
“And thank you, Millie,” Ernie said. “She’s the one that got my job back. And I think I might have convinced Mr. Burleson to give her job back too.”
“That’s wonderful news, son.”
“I was just about to come tell—”
The phone rang.
Ernie rushed to pick it up.
“Hello, Ernie? It’s me. Millie.”
His heart was fit to burst at the sound of her voice. If only he could kiss her, hold her, celebrate with her! But first, he had to convince her to take him back.