Wings. - Part 3
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Part 3

"What everyone else says. That I'm nuts." Ca.s.sic laughed at him. "But I'm not married to him, you know. He's just a friend."

"He won't be 'just a friend' forever. Sooner or later, he'll want to be a lot more, or at least that's what your father thinks." It was what everyone thought and she knew it.

"Is that so?" She sounded cool suddenly and Nick laughed at how prim she was.

"Don't go getting all icy at me over it. You know what I'm saying. It's going to be odd if you want to be another Earhart. You're going to have to live with it. That's not always easy." He knew that only too well. He knew a lot of things he suddenly wanted to share with her. The new dimension of their friendship both excited and frightened him. He couldn't imagine where it might lead them.

"Why is it such a big deal?" she said plaintively, thinking of Nick's questions about Bobby. It didn't make any sense to her. What was so wrong about flying?

"I guess it's a big deal because it's different," Nick explained. "Men are made to walk around on the ground. If you want to fly around like a bird all the time, maybe they figure you should have feathers, or maybe they just figure you're weird. What do I know?" He smiled easily at her, and stretched his long legs out ahead of him. It was fun talking to her, she was so bright and young and alive, so excited about the life she had before her. He envied her that. Her life was filled with challenges to be met and fresh beginnings. Even at thirty-five, a lot of the excitement in his life seemed to be behind him.

"I think people are stupid about flying. They're just planes, and we're just people," she said simply.

"No, we're not," he said matter-of-factly. "We're superheroes in their heads because we do something they can't do, and that most of them are afraid of. We're like lion tamers, or high-wire dancers... it's all very mysterious and very exciting, isn't it?" He made her think about it for a minute and she nodded, and handed his c.o.ke back to him again. He took a swig and lit a cigarette, but he didn't offer her one. She might be learning to fly, but she wasn't that grown-up yet.

"I guess it is kind of exciting and mysterious," she conceded as she watched him smoke. "Maybe that's why I love it. But it feels so good too... it's so free... so alive... so..." She couldn't find the right words and he smiled. He knew just exactly what she meant. He still felt that way too. Every time his plane lifted off the ground, whichever one he was flying at the time, he always felt the same wild thrill of freedom. It made everything else seem bland and uninteresting. It had affected his whole life, what he did, who he saw, what he wanted to do. It had affected all his relationships, and one day it would affect hers too. He felt he should warn her somehow, but he wasn't sure what to say. She was so young and so filled with hope, it seemed almost wrong to warn her.

"It'll change your life, Ca.s.s." was all he could bring himself to say. "Be careful of that."

She nodded, thinking she understood what he had said, but she didn't. "I know"- and then she looked up at him, with eyes so wise it almost scared him-" but that's what I want. That's why I'm here. I can't live on the ground... like the others." She was one of them, she was telling him, and he knew it was true. It was why he had agreed to teach her.

They spent a long time talking that day, and he hated to leave her there all alone, to walk two miles back down the country road to where she'd catch the bus to home, but he had no choice. He watched her go, with a long wave, and a moment later he took off, and did a slow roll for her, to signal his leaving. She watched him fly for a long time, still unable to believe what he had done for her. He had changed her whole life in a single afternoon, and they both knew it. It was a brave undertaking for both of them, but one which neither of them could resist, for different reasons.

The long hot walk back to the bus seemed like dancing to her; all she could think about were the feats she had done, and the feel of the plane... and the look in Nick's eyes afterward. He was proud of her. And she had never felt better in her life.

She boarded the bus with a huge grin for the bus driver, and almost forgot to pay her fifteen cents. And when she got home, it was too late to go to the airport. She went home to help her mother instead, and suddenly even helping her didn't seem so terrible. She had fed her soul, and whatever price she had to pay seemed worth it it.

She was quiet at dinner that night, but no one seemed to notice it. Everyone had something to say; Chris was excited about his job at the newspaper, her father had landed a new mail contract with the government, and Colleen's baby had finally come the night before, and her mother wanted to tell them all about it. Only Ca.s.sie was unusually quiet and she had the biggest news of all, but couldn't share it.

Bobby came by after dinner, as usual, and they talked for a while, but Ca.s.sie didn't seem to have much to say to him. She was lost in her own thoughts, and the only thing she really said to him was that she could hardly wait till the air show. It would be just after the Fourth of July that year, and Bobby had never been, but he thought this time he might come, and Ca.s.sie could explain all the planes to him. But to her, the prospect of going with a novice and explaining it all didn't seem very exciting. She would much rather have gone with Nick, and listened to him. But it never dawned on her then that the changes had already begun. That afternoon, she had set sail on a long, long, interesting but lonely voyage.

5.

The lessons continued through July, in total secrecy. But the air show, and Ca.s.sie's elation over it, was definitely not a secret. They all went to the air show together, her entire family, Nick, some of the pilots from the field, and Bobby and his younger sister. It was exciting for all of them, but nothing was as important to Ca.s.sie as her lessons with Nick, not even the Blandinsville Air Show. By the end of July she had mastered a very impressive dead stick landing. She had also learned barrel rolls, splits, and clover leafs, and some even more complicated maneuvers.

Ca.s.sie was every flying instructor's dream, a human sponge desperate to learn everything, with the hands and mind of an angel. She could fly almost anything, and in August, Nick started bringing the Bellanca instead of the Jenny, because it was harder to fly and he wanted her to have the challenge. It also had the speed he needed to show her the more complicated stunts and maneuvers. Fat still didn't suspect anything, and in spite of the long bus rides and the long walk, their flying lessons were frequent and easy.

In August, Ca.s.sie and Nick were both deeply upset when one of the pilots who flew for her father was killed when his engine failed on a flight back from Nebraska. They all went to the funeral, and Ca.s.sie was still depressed about it when she and Nick had their next lesson. Her father had lost a good friend, and one of his two D.H. 4s. And everyone was subdued at O'Malley's Airport.

"Don't ever forget that those things happen, Ca.s.s." Nick reminded her quietly as they sat under their favorite tree, having lunch after a lesson on the last day of August. It had been a wonderful summer for her, and she had never felt as close to him. He was her dearest friend, her only real friend now, and her mentor. "It can happen to any one of us. Bad engine, bad weather, bad luck... it's a chance we all take. You've got to face that."

"I have," she said sadly, thinking of the most wonderful summer of her life, which was almost over. "But I think I'd rather die that way than any other. Flying is all I want to do, Nick," she said firmly, but he knew that by now. She didn't need to do anything to convince him. He was sold on her abilities, her natural skill, her extraordinary facility to learn, and her genuine pa.s.sion for flying. He was sold on a lot of things about her.

"I know, Ca.s.s." He looked at her long and hard. She was the only person he had been truly comfortable with in years, other than Fat and the men he flew with. She was the only woman who seemed to share his views and his dreams, it was just his bad luck that she was only a baby, and his best friend's little girl. There was no hope of her ever being more than that. But he enjoyed her company, and talking to her, and it had meant a lot to him to teach her how to fly. He had long since had her solo. "What do you want to do about lessons once you start school?" he asked as they finished lunch. She was going hack the following day for her last year of high school. It seemed hard to believe that she was already a senior. She had always been such a little girl to him, except that he had come to know her better than that now. In many ways, she was more adult than most of the men he knew, and she was very much a woman. But there was a child in there too. She loved to play pranks and to tease, she had an easy laugh, and she loved playing with him. In some ways, she was no different from the way she had been when she was a baby.

"What about Sat.u.r.days?" she asked pensively, "or Sundays?" It meant they would fly together less frequently, but at least it would be something. They had both come to rely on these long quiet hours together, her unwavering faith in him, her trust in all he told her, and his pleasure at teaching her the wonders of flying. It was a gift they shared, each one enhancing it for the other.

"I can do Sat.u.r.days," he said matter-of-factly, and his tone didn't tell her that nothing could have stopped him from it. She was his star pupil now, but more than that, they were best friends, and partners in a much loved conspiracy that they both held dear. Neither of them could have given it up easily, nor did they intend to. "I don't know about you walking two miles to the bus once the weather gets bad though." He worried about her walking two miles alone sometimes, though she would have been annoyed at his concern. She was an independent spirit and she was convinced she could handle anything. But the thought of her alone on a country road made him faintly nervous.

"Maybe Dad'll let me borrow his truck... or Bobby..." Nick nodded, but the thought of Bobby bothered him too, and he knew that it shouldn't. He had no right to object to any of her suitors, but Bobby just didn't seem right for her. He was so dull, and so d.a.m.n landlocked.

"Yeah. Maybe so," he said noncommittally, reminding himself that he was twice her age, and Bobby wasn't.

"I'll work it out." She smiled at him without a care in the world, and it was hard not to be dazzled by her beauty.

They both wondered sometimes how they could go on like this, meeting at the deserted airstrip for lessons. It had certainly worked so far, but they both knew it would be more difficult through the winter. If nothing else, the weather would be an enormous problem.

But surprisingly, it worked remarkably well, and they met regularly every Sat.u.r.day. She told her father that she had a friend from school she was meeting to do her homework with, and he let her have the truck every Sat.u.r.day afternoon. No one seemed to mind, and she always came back on time, with her arms full of books and notebooks, and in high spirits.

Her flying skill had improved still further by then and Nick was justifiably proud of her. He said repeatedly that he would have given anything to put her in an air show. Chris was already preparing for the next one, and he was precise and reliable, but unexciting, and he had none of the instinctive, natural skills of his sister. They both knew that if Pat hadn't been pushing him, Chris would never fly at all. He had admitted to Nick more than once that he didn't really like it.

Ca.s.sie and Nick sat and ate their lunch in the truck once the weather got cold, and sometimes if the weather was bright, they went for walks near the airstrip.

In September, they talked about Louise Thaden being the first woman to enter the Bendix Trophy race, and in October about Jean Batten becoming the first woman to fly from England to New Zealand. They talked about a lot of things. They sat on fallen trees and talked for hours sometimes, and as the months wore on, they only got closer. They seemed to agree about everything, although she thought he was too conservative politically, and he thought she was too young to go out with boys and he said so. She made fun of him, and he cherished her irreverence, and she told him that the last girl she had seen him with was the ugliest woman she had ever seen, and he told her that Bobby Strong was clearly the dullest. If he was a little more than serious, Ca.s.sie never knew it. They just loved to fly and talk, and share their views of life. Everything seemed so much in synch, their interests, their worries, their shared pa.s.sion for all things that flew, even their almost identical sense of humor. It was always bittersweet when they left each other late on Sat.u.r.day afternoon, because they knew they'd have to wait a week before they could meet again like this. And sometimes, he couldn't be there at all if he had a long cargo flight and couldn't get back in time. But that was rare, he had come to organize his flying schedule around their lessons.

On Thanksgiving, he joined her family, as he always did, and Ca.s.sie teased him without mercy. They always laughed at each other a lot, but their exchanges seemed a little sharper and more intimate than they had before their lessons. Pat told them they were an uncivilized pair, but Oona wondered if she was noticing something different. It seemed hard to believe after all these years, but they seemed closer than they'd ever been, and when Oona mentioned it to Colleen, she only laughed and said Ca.s.sie was just having fun. Nick was like her big brother. But Oona wasn't wrong. The time they had spent, and the things Ca.s.sie had learned, and their endless talks under the tree at the airstrip for the past six months, had inevitably brought them closer together.

Nick was lying on the couch, claiming that he was going to die from eating so much good food, and Ca.s.sie was sitting next to him, teasing him and reminding him that gluttony was a sin and he should go to confession. She knew how he hated to go to church, and he was pretending to ignore her, but smiling appreciatively at her, when Bobby appeared in the doorway, and came in brushing the first snow from his hat and shoulders. He was a tall, handsome boy, and just watching him, Nick felt a thousand years older.

"It's bitter cold out there," Bobby complained, and then smiled warmly at everyone, though cautiously at Nick. There was something about him that made Bobby uncomfortable, though he wasn't sure what it was. Maybe it was just that he was always so familiar with Ca.s.sie. "Did everyone have enough to eat?" he asked the room at large, proud of the fact that he had sent them a twenty-five-pound turkey. And everyone groaned in answer. They had invited him to come to dinner too, but he had wanted to be with his parents and sister.

He invited Ca.s.sie to go out for a walk, but she declined, and stayed to to listen listen to to her mother play the piano. Glynnis sang, and Megan and her husband joined in. Megan had just told them all that she was having another baby. Ca.s.sie was happy for her, but it was the kind of news that always made her feel alien and different. She just couldn't imagine herself getting married and having babies. Not for light-years anyway. It wasn't what she wanted to do with her life for a long time, if ever. But then what would she do with her life, she wondered. She knew she'd never be Amelia Earhart either, or Bobbi Trout or Amy Mollison. They were stars, and she knew she never would be. There seemed to be no middle ground out there. You either did what her sisters did, married right out of school, had kids, and settled down in a dreary life, or you ran away and became some kind of superstar. But there was no money for her to buy planes, or enter races and set records. Even if her father had been sympathetic to her cause, his planes were old and serviceable, but certainly not what you'd use to become world-famous. her mother play the piano. Glynnis sang, and Megan and her husband joined in. Megan had just told them all that she was having another baby. Ca.s.sie was happy for her, but it was the kind of news that always made her feel alien and different. She just couldn't imagine herself getting married and having babies. Not for light-years anyway. It wasn't what she wanted to do with her life for a long time, if ever. But then what would she do with her life, she wondered. She knew she'd never be Amelia Earhart either, or Bobbi Trout or Amy Mollison. They were stars, and she knew she never would be. There seemed to be no middle ground out there. You either did what her sisters did, married right out of school, had kids, and settled down in a dreary life, or you ran away and became some kind of superstar. But there was no money for her to buy planes, or enter races and set records. Even if her father had been sympathetic to her cause, his planes were old and serviceable, but certainly not what you'd use to become world-famous.

More than usual lately, she had talked to Nick about what she was going to do with her life. In six months, she would finish school. And then what? They both knew there was no job waiting for her at the airport, and there never would be. She had talked to one of her teachers too, and she was coming closer to knowing what she wanted. If she couldn't fly professionally, and for the moment, she couldn't see how that was even remotely possible, at least she could go to college. She was thinking of becoming a teacher and much to her delight, she had learned that several teachers' colleges offered both engineering and aeronautics. In particular, Bradley College in Peoria. She was hoping to apply for the fall, and if she could get a scholarship, which her teachers thought was possible, she would major in engineering, with a minor in aeronautics. It was as close to flying as she could get for the moment. If she couldn't fly an airplane for a living, like a man, she could at least teach all about them. She hadn't told her parents yet about her plan but to her it seemed like a good one. Only Nick knew, but her secrets were always safe with him. He glanced at her warmly as he stood up to leave that night, with a disparaging look at Bobby, who was talking about his mother's prizewinning pumpkin pie. Somehow, Bobby Strong never failed to annoy him.

Nick kissed Ca.s.sie on the cheek, and left, and Bobby relaxed considerably once Nick was gone. The older man always made him nervous. But Ca.s.sie seemed distracted once Nick was gone. She looked like she had a lot on her mind, and she brushed Bobby off when he started to talk about graduation. She hated talking about it now. Everyone else had concrete plans, and she didn't. All she had were hopes and dreams, and secrets.

It was late when Bobby finally went home, and Chris teased her once he was gone, and asked her when they'd all be going to her wedding. Ca.s.sie only made a face and she made a gesture as though to hit him.

"Mind your own business," she growled, and her father laughed at them both.

"I don't think the boy's wrong, Ca.s.sie. Two years of coming by almost every night must mean something. I'm surprised he hasn't asked you yet." But Ca.s.sie was relieved he hadn't. She didn't know what she'd say to him. She knew what she was supposed to say to him, but it didn't fit into her larger plans for herself, which now included college. Maybe after that, if he stuck around that long. But waiting four more years seemed a lot to ask of him. At least she didn't have to worry about it for the moment.

She and Nick did plenty of flying for the next three Sat.u.r.day afternoons, despite some fairly dicey weather. And two days before Christmas, they went up in the Bellanca and within minutes had ice on their wings. Ca.s.sie thought her fingers would freeze in her gloves as she held the stick, and then suddenly she heard the engine start to go, and felt it stall as they went into a dive, and everything happened incredibly quickly.

Nick had the controls, but it was obvious that he was struggling with them, and she held them firm along with him. They recovered from the dive, which was no small feat, but then the propeller died and she knew instantly what that meant. They were going to have to do a forced landing. The wind was shrieking in their ears, and there was no way for him to say anything to her, but she knew instinctively what he was going to do. All she could do was back him up, but suddenly she realized they were dropping too quickly. She turned and signaled him, and for an instant he started to disagree with her, but then he nodded, deciding to trust her judgment. He pulled up as best he could, but the ground came at them too quickly. For a second, she was certain they were going to crash, but at the last minute, he brushed the top of the trees, and somehow broke their fall. They landed hard, but were unhurt, and all they damaged was one wheel. They had been extraordinarily lucky and they both knew it, as they sat shaking, realizing full well how close they had come to dying.

Ca.s.sie was still shaking when they stepped from the plane, but it was as much from the cold as from the emotions, and Nick looked down at her, and pulled her hard into his arms, with a wave of relief. For several minutes he had been certain that no matter what he tried, he was going to kill her.

"I'm so sorry, Ca.s.s. We never should have gone up in this. There's a lesson for you. Never learn to fly with an old fool who thinks he knows better than the weather. And thanks for signaling me when we were going down." Her uncanny sense about alt.i.tude and speed had saved them. "I won't do that to you again, I swear." He was still shaking too as he held her. It was hard to ignore what she meant to him, as he looked down at her and felt his heart beat. All he had wanted was to save her life, not his own. He would readily have given up his life for her.

And then she looked up at him and grinned, still folded in his embrace. "It was fun," she giggled and he wanted to strangle her as he held her.

"You're a lunatic. Remind me never to fly with you again!" But she was a lunatic who meant everything to him, as he slowly released her.

"Maybe I should give you a lesson or two." she teased. But instead she helped him tie the Bellanca to a tree, and put rocks under the wheels, and she gave him a ride back to her father's airport. No one there seemed to question their arriving together, and he told her to go home and get warm. He was afraid she'd get sick from the bitter chill. He was on his way inside to have a stiff drink of Pat's stash of Irish whiskey. Knowing that he had almost killed her that afternoon had still left him shaken.

"What have you been up to this afternoon?" her father asked when she got home. He had just come home with their Christmas tree, and her nephews and nieces were going to come and help decorate it and stay for dinner.

"Not much," she said, trying to look casual, but she had torn her gloves towing the plane, and there was oil on her hands.

"You been out to the airport?"

"Just for a few minutes." She suddenly wondered if he was on to her, but he only nodded, and stood the Christmas tree up in the comer with her brother's help. He seemed in good spirits, and not inclined to question Ca.s.sie further.

She took a hot bath, and thought about their close call. It had been frightening, but the odd thing was that she didn't think she'd mind dying in a plane. It was where she wanted to be, and it seemed a better place to die than any other. But nonetheless, she was very glad they hadn't.

And so was Nick. He was still deeply upset over what had almost happened. And at ten o'clock that night, he was dead drunk, as he sat in his living room, wondering how Pat would have ever survived it if his oldest friend had killed his daughter. It made him suddenly think twice about flying with her again, and yet he knew he couldn't stop. He just had to do it, not only for her sake. It was almost as though he needed to be with her now, needed her wit and humor, her wisdom, her big eyes, and the incredible way she always looked the first time he saw her. He loved the way she flew, the way she knew so much instinctively, and worked so hard to learn what she didn't. The trouble was, he had realized that afternoon, he loved too much about her.

The Christmas tree at the O'Malleys' was beautiful. The children had decorated it as best they could, and their aunts and uncles and grandparents had helped. They had strung popcorn and cranberry beads, and hung all their old handmade decorations. Oona made a few new ones each year, and this year the star of the show was a big handmade silk angel she hung near the top of the Christmas tree, and Ca.s.sie was staring up at it admiringly when Bobby arrived with a load of homemade gingersnaps and cider.

Her mother made a big fuss over him, and her sisters left shortly afterward to put their children to bed. Fat and Chris went outside to get more firewood, and Ca.s.sie found herself suddenly alone with Bobby in the kitchen.

"It was nice of you to bring us the gingersnaps and the cider," she said with a smile.

"Your mom said you were crazy about gingersnaps when you were a little girl," he said shyly, his blond hair shining and his eyes almost like a child's. And yet, in an odd way, he was so tall and so serious that there was something manly about him. He was just eighteen, but you could begin to guess what he might look like at twenty-five or thirty. His father was still a handsome man at forty-five, and his mother was very pretty. Bobby was a fine boy, and exactly the kind of person her parents wanted her to marry. He had a solid future, a decent family, good morals, good looks, he was even Catholic.

Ca.s.sie smiled, thinking of the gingersnaps again. "I ate so many once, I was sick for two days and couldn't go to school. I thought I was going to die... but I didn't." But she almost had that afternoon... She had almost been killed in a plane with Nick, and now she and Bobby were standing there talking about cookies. Life was so odd sometimes, so absurd and so insignificant, and then suddenly so thrilling.

"I... uh..." He looked at her awkwardly, not sure what to say to her, and wondering if this was a good idea. He had talked it over with his dad first, and Tom Strong had thought it was. But this was a lot harder than Bobby thought, especially when he looked at Ca.s.sie. She looked so beautiful, standing there, in a pair of dark slacks, and a big pale blue sweater, her bright red hair framing her face like one of her mother's white silk angels. "Ca.s.s... I'm not sure how to say this to you, but... I... uh..." He moved closer to her, and readied out and took her hand in his, and they could both hear her father and brother stirring in the living room, but they carefully left the two young lovers alone in the kitchen. "I... uh... I love you, Ca.s.s," he said, suddenly sounding stronger and older than he was. "I love you a lot... and I'd like to marry you when we graduate in June." There, he had said it. He looked remarkably proud of himself, as Ca.s.sie stared at him, her face suddenly paler than it had ever been, and her blue eyes wide in consternation. Her worst fears had come true. And now she had to face them.

"I... er... thank you," she said awkwardly, wishing she had crashed that afternoon. It would have been simpler.

"Well?" He looked at her so hopefully, wanting her to give him the expected answer. "What do you think?" He was so proud of himself he could have shouted. But his excitement was not contagious. All Ca.s.sie felt was dismay and tenor.

"I think you're wonderful"- he looked instantly ecstatic at what she'd just said to him-" and I think you're really nice to ask me. I... uh... I just don't know what I'm going to do in June." June was not the issue, marriage was, and she knew that. "I... Bobby, I want to go to college." She said it as she exhaled, terrified that someone else would hear her.

"You do? Why?" He looked startled. None of her sisters had, and her mother certainly hadn't before her, or even her father. His question was reasonable, and she wasn't even sure she had an answer. "Because I can't fly professionally" hardly seemed like a good answer. And marriage right out of school had never seemed like a particularly appealing option.

"I just think I should. I was talking to Mrs. Wilc.o.x about it a few weeks ago, and she really thinks I should. I could teach after that, if I wanted to," And I wouldn't have to get married right away, and have babies.

"Is that what you want?" He seemed surprised; he had never counted on her wanting to go to college, and it altered his plans for her a little bit, but she could be married and go to college too. He knew people who had done that. "You want to be a teacher?"

"I'm not sure. I just don't want to get married right out of school, have kids, and never do anything with my life. I want more than that." She was trying to explain it to him, but it was so much easier to explain it to Nick. He was so much older and wiser than Bobby.

"You could help me with the business. There's lots you could do at the store. And my father says he wants to retire in a few years." And then suddenly he had an idea; it struck him as brilliant. "You could study accounting, and then you could do the books. What do you think, Ca.s.s?"

She thought he was a nice boy. But she didn't want to do his books. "I want to do engineering," she said, and he looked even more confused. She was certainly full of surprises, but she always had been. At least she hadn't told him she wanted to be Amelia Earhart. She hadn't said a word about flying, only about school, and now about engineering. But that was a little crazy too. He wasn't sure what to tell his father.

"What'll you do with an engineering degree, Ca.s.s?" Understandably, he sounded puzzled.

"I don't know yet."

"Sounds like you have some thinking to do." He sat down at the kitchen table, and pulled her into the chair next to his. He was holding her hand, and trying to excite her about their future. "We could get married, and you could still go to school."

"Until I get pregnant. And how long would that be?" He blushed at her openness, and he clearly didn't want to discuss it with her any further. "I'd probably never finish the first year. And then I'd wind up like Colleen, always talking about going back to school, and too busy having babies."

"We don't have to have as many as they do. My parents only had two." He still sounded hopeful.

"That's two more than I want for a long time. Bobby, I just can't... not now... not yet. It wouldn't be fair to you. I'd always be thinking about what I'd missed, or what I wished I had done. I can't do that, to either of us."

"Does flying have anything to do with any of this?" he asked suspiciously, but she shook her head. There was no way she could tell him all that she had been doing. And that was a problem too. She couldn't imagine herself married to a man she couldn't confide in. Nick and she were just friends, but there was nothing she couldn't tell him.

"I'm just not ready." She was honest with him.

"When will you be?" he asked her sadly. It was disappointing for him, and he knew his parents would be disappointed, too. His father had already offered to help him pick out and pay for the ring. But there would be no ring now.

"I don't know. Not for a long time."

"If you'd already been to college, do you think you'd marry me?" he asked her bluntly and she was startled by the question.

"Probably." She wouldn't have any excuse not to. It wasn't that she needed an excuse, and she did like him. She just didn't want to marry anyone. Not yet, and not now, and probably not for a long time, but suddenly Bobby looked hopeful.

"I'll wait then."

"But that's crazy." She was embarra.s.sed at having encouraged him. How could she possibly know how she'd feel when she finished college?

"Look, I'm in love with you. It's not like I'm looking for a mail order bride to pick up in June. If I have to wait, I will. But I'd rather not wait the whole four years while you go to college. Maybe we could compromise in a year or two, and you could finish school once we were married. At least think about that, it doesn't have to be so terrible. And," he blushed furiously, "we don't have to have a baby right away. There are things you can do about that," he said, almost choking. She was so touched by what he'd said to her, and by the generosity of his feelings that she put her arms around him and kissed him.

"Thank you... for being so fair..."

"I love you," he said honestly, still blushing from the things he had just said to her. It was the hardest thing he had ever done, proposing to her, and being rejected.

"I love you too," she whispered, overwhelmed by guilt and tenderness and a maelstrom of emotions.

'That's all I need to know," he said quietly. They sat and talked in the kitchen for a long time, about other things. And when he left, he kissed her on the porch, feeling they had come to an agreement. The decision was not now, as far as he was concerned, but definitely later. And all he had to do now was convince her that sooner was better than later. It seemed a small task to him in the heat of the moment.

6.

The cla.s.s of 1937 walked slowly down the aisle of the auditorium of Thomas Jefferson School, the boys and the girls hand in hand, two by two, the girls carrying bouquets of daisies. The girls looked so lovely and pure, the boys so young and hopeful. Watching them, Pat was reminded of the boys who had flown in the war for him. They had been the same age, and so many of them had died, and to him they had all looked like children.

Together, the entire cla.s.s sang the school song for the last time, and the girls all cried, as did their mothers. Even their fathers had tears in their eyes as the diplomas were handed out, and then suddenly, the ceremony was over and there was pandemonium. Three hundred kids had graduated and would go on to their lives, most of them to get married, and have babies. Only forty-one of a cla.s.s of three hundred and fourteen were going on to college. Of the forty-one, all but one were going to the state university at Macomb, and only three of these were women. And of course one of them was Ca.s.sie, who was the only student going as far as Peoria, to attend Bradley. It would be a long haul every day, well over an hour each way in her father's old truck, but she was convinced it was worth it, just for the chance to take the aeronautics courses they offered, and some engineering.

Ca.s.sie had had to fight tooth and nail for it. Her father thought it was a waste of time, and she'd be a lot better off married to Bobby Strong. He was furious with her for turning him down, and he only backed off because Oona had insisted to him quietly that she was sure they would get married eventually, if they didn't push her. Ca.s.sie just needed time. It was Oona who had prevailed on him, and talked Pat into letting her go on to college. It certainly couldn't do any harm, and she had agreed to compromise and major in English, not engineering. If she graduated, she'd get a teaching degree, but she had still applied for a minor in aeronautics. No woman had ever applied for the course, and she had been told that she'd have to wait to see if the professor felt she was eligible for the cla.s.s. But she was going to talk to him as soon as she got to school in September.

There was a reception at the high school after graduation, and of course Ca.s.sie had already gone to her senior prom with Bobby. He had seemed to accept his fate for the past six months, but the night they graduated, he talked to her about it again, just in case she'd changed her mind, and had second thoughts about college.