A Flying Affair
Page 25
“I didn’t mean it to sound that way. I’m sure with the specs I’ve seen of yours that it’s superb, too.”
When they got to the service hangar, a mechanic approached. “You the gal from Kentucky?”
“I am, and these are my sponsors for the race.”
“Fella that brought it in wanted me to give you a message. Said his ride showed up and he’d catch you later.”
“Did he service the plane?”
“Can’t help you there. Got my own rigging to check.”
The three of them looked at each other, the bubble of anxiety that had ridden under Mittie’s ribs all day now an effervescent sea. What ride? Ames said he was taking the train.
“Thanks, anyway.” She took a deep breath and walked to her plane. “Here it is.” She ran her hand along the nose. “I’ll check the maintenance log and see if Ames recorded anything.”
She did a leg up on the strut and retrieved the log. No fuel or oil check recorded. Bobby, though, said he’d be glad to do a thorough check, and rocked back on his heels. “Have you talked to your father?”
“Late last night. I told him I was looking forward to seeing you two today.”
Victor scowled. “I wish we’d timed this a little better. Let’s go somewhere so we can talk.”
Once they’d found the airfield coffee shop and were seated, Victor told her a message from her dad was waiting for them when they’d arrived at their hotel, along with the one she’d left. “Seems the fellow in San Diego that rented Ames the facility and provided the workers to build the plane hasn’t been paid. If it’s not settled up today, he’s going to file a complaint with the race officials.”
“Daddy thought it was probably an oversight on Ames’ part.”
“He didn’t want to alarm you by telling too much, but it puts all of us in a precarious position.”
“Perhaps Ames is taking care of it while he’s down there getting his car.” Her words carried more confidence than the doubt knotted in her gut.
Bobby, silent up until now, said, “Mittie, the situation is grave. If you take the plane without clearance, there may be legal repercussions.”
Her jaw tightened. “Too many things aren’t adding up. First Calista, then a trip to the desert. I think Ames is avoiding someone, that he’s in some kind of trouble.”
“What about Calista?”
“Something she told me yesterday. Rumors that Ames might have lost some money gambling.” Her daddy’s money.
Bobby nodded. “I’ve suspected that before, the odd comment here and there.”
The air in the room grew thin, the sick feeling in her stomach swelling. Calista knew. Bobby knew. Everyone but her. “This isn’t a good time to find out that my friends have waited until now to inform me.”
Bobby blew out a breath. “It was just talk. I had no proof. He lived at your farm for two months and your father vouched for him. We had hoped to talk to Ames and find out the situation from him.”
“I’m open to suggestions.”
Victor said, “Your father is prepared to wire the money if Ames hasn’t paid by five o’clock today”—he pulled his pocket watch from his vest—“which is precisely four hours from now. Paying for services rendered is the only way to ensure your place in the race, but the decision is yours.”
“I can’t believe Ames would do this. It was for his benefit as well as mine.”
Victor said, “Human nature is a funny thing. More than likely he thought he could double the money your dad already paid in. I imagine he’s in a bit of a panic. Perhaps even desperate.”
Anger coiled in her gut. Her daddy had already paid for the plane once. Now he was going to have to pay again. The truth gripped her, and she wanted to scream. How could Ames do this to her? Images flashed through her head. Nebraska and his dishonesty there with Mr. Nance. The phone calls offering excuses for why he couldn’t come home. Always making it sound like he was doing things for her benefit. Her hand went to the locket. Was that a lie, too?
“Mittie.” Bobby’s voice came gently through her thoughts. “Your father wants this for you. He believes in you; he’s told me time and again. I know it’s none of my affair, but I think you want it, too. Don’t let the opportunity slip from your fingers.”
“It would be selfish of me to assume daddy should pay for my mistake in judging Ames’ character.”
“We’ve all been duped into trusting people who didn’t deserve that honor. There are nineteen other women who are counting on you. Do it for them. And for yourself.”
The yoke that bore down on her shoulders lifted. “You’re right.”
Victor’s concern was that the factory owner who’d called was also trying to bilk them. He offered to drive to San Diego and check the validity of the claim. Rather than have her daddy wire the money directly to a stranger, Victor would collect it and carry it himself. He didn’t have much time, so he hurried off, leaving Bobby to do the maintenance check on the plane and go with Mittie for a test flight.
Before Victor left, she said, “I don’t know how I can ever repay you.”
“Perhaps Ames will come through.”
The whirlpool in her stomach told her he wouldn’t.
Bobby found the source of the vibration in the plane and replaced a couple of parts before the two of them took it for a test flight. They got to the hotel with not much time to spare before the evening banquet. Mittie left a message at the desk for Calista with her room number, not sure if she would catch her. Just as Mittie put on one of the fancy frocks she’d brought, a knock sounded.
Mittie opened the door, and Calista breezed in.
“Hey, Kentucky, nice dress.”
“Thanks for coming. You look gorgeous, but then you always do. About our conversation earlier—there have been developments, which I won’t go into, but I have very good reason to believe you were telling me the truth about Ames and San Antonio. What I want to know is why you didn’t tell me before.”
“I honestly don’t know. I wanted to partially get back at Ames, but then he had that wreck and you were so starry-eyed over him after he stayed at your farm, it didn’t seem right. I was hoping for your sake he’d changed.”
“He did seem different then, but I could also sense a restlessness in him. I thought it was to get back to his work, but now I don’t know. It’s like he’s happiest when he’s adrift.”
“He’s going to be adrift for sure if those guys in the hangar were right about his gambling. Is everything all right with your plane?”
“It is now. Another guy who’s adrift went over it.”
“You must be talking about Bobby.”
Mittie nodded, a warm feeling settling in her chest.
Calista went to the mirror and fixed a smudge of her lipstick with her pinkie. “I don’t mean to tell you how to run your life, but if you’d get your head out of the clouds about Ames, I think you’d see that our dear Bobby is pining for you.”
“That’s insane. You’ve had your eyes on Bobby since Kansas City, and if I’m not mistaken, he’s in love with you.” Mittie pulled on her long gloves and grabbed her evening bag.
“Bobby’s swell, but he’s not in love with me. I let that fantasy run away with me for a while, but nothing ever clicked.” She grabbed her handbag and swiveled her hips. “All I’m going to say is that you need to open your eyes, darlin’.”
What Calista suggested about Bobby was ridiculous, of course. She knew he was fond of her, but pining after her? Hardly. And it wasn’t something she even wanted to dwell on with the race starting in less than a day.
Mittie was glad she hadn’t mentioned anything to Ames about her conversation with her dad. If he suspected she was aware of the fiasco, he might stay away to save face. Her faith in him might be shattered, but in her inmost being, she felt Ames still cherished being a part of the race. And she did want to hear his explanation. He deserved that opportunity at least.
He still hadn’t arrived by the start of the banquet hos
ted by the National Exchange Club. It was a gala affair with cameramen and other press reporters lingering about, chatting with the other girls decked out in their finery—all except Pancho, who came in a men’s tuxedo complete with a red carnation in the lapel. The tension was palpable, prerace jitters, but also one of camaraderie, each woman honored to be there. And Mittie wasn’t the only one who’d had a snag in her plans. One of the women told about picking up her new plane and suffering from carbon monoxide poisoning before touching down and having an emergency revision made to deliver fresh air to the cockpit. One contender was still waiting for her plane to arrive, and another hadn’t even shown up yet. It was a mad scramble for all of them, cobbled-together hopes and dreams.
When the time came to eat, the chair reserved for Ames remained empty. No one had seen him, including the garage owner in San Diego where Victor had relinquished the money and obtained a manifest of the parts and labor and a receipt. The chicken was baked dry, as was Mittie’s throat, but she was determined not to let circumstances ruin her evening. As the waiters served slices of apple pie a la mode, Ames, his hair still damp from the shower, his tie slightly askew, slipped into the chair beside Mittie.
Her heart skipped. He made it. This was not a man who had deliberately set out to hurt her. That smile. There was a logical explanation. There had to be.
He leaned in and whispered, “Have I missed anything?”
“Not yet.” Restraint from asking him a million questions tore at her insides as the welcome was given and each of the women and their sponsors were introduced.
“Mittie Humphreys, from Louisville, Kentucky, flying a custom mono-wing in the light aircraft division.”
She rose and nodded, then held out her hand to indicate Bobby and Victor as her sponsors. When Calista was introduced, she gave a flirty wave, her Marcel waves framing her pixie face. Her flapper headpiece with copper-colored feathers matched her slim silky dress. When she made eye contact with Mittie, it wasn’t a challenge but the look of a sister. A best friend.
When it was over, Bobby leaned in and whispered his room number. “In case you need me.” She bit her lower lip, emotion welling up. She blinked twice and told him she’d see him in the morning.
She turned to Ames. “Could we go for a walk?”
“Sure, doll, but I thought you’d want to get your beauty sleep. Big day tomorrow.”
“It is, isn’t it? Perhaps the biggest day of my life so far.” She worked to control her tone. Stay calm. “There’s a nice breeze off the ocean. Let’s enjoy it while we can.” She walked across the lobby toward the glass exit doors. His shoes tapped on the marble floor as he hurried to catch up and held the door for her.
“It’s a big day for me, too, and I need to get out to Clover Field early for one last look at the plane.”
She strolled past a fountain and waved at a couple of the girls who were having a smoke and laughing. “It’s not necessary. Bobby’s already done a thorough check and serviced it.”
“York? Why was he messing with it?” He grabbed her arm and stopped her.
She smiled. “Not messing, sweetie. Doing what you were supposed to do before you left.”
“I’m your ace mechanic, remember? He’s not familiar with the plane. I’d be surprised if he’s even seen an engine like that baby has.”
“He did mention that it was unusual. It took some doing, but he got rid of that vibration I noticed earlier.” She didn’t mean to antagonize him by mentioning Bobby, but facts were facts.
“It was one of the things I was going to fix. I sure as blue blazes don’t need him tinkering with it.”
“It’s my plane. I assumed I could have whoever I want looking at it.”
“You’ve certainly taken a cavalier attitude since York rolled into town.”
She blew out a long breath. They’d walked far enough away that no people milled about. Time to ask the tough questions. “Ames, this has nothing to do with Bobby, but there is something we need to talk about.”
He pulled her toward him, his arms around her waist. “All we need to talk about is what happens next. For you and me after the race. You know I love it here, and I’ve nursed the hope that you would, too.”
She stiffened. How could she have been so blind? Every time tension coiled between them, he turned on the charm, thinking that a kiss and that cow-eyed expression could melt away anything. She gripped each of his arms, removed them from around her waist, and stepped back.
“It’s over between us, Ames. I know everything. Maybe not everything, but enough to know that I’m finished with your lies and your half-truths. I want to know why you gambled away my daddy’s money and didn’t even have the decency to tell me. If you have any desire to remain friends, then I need some straight answers.”
“You know I’m always straight with you.”
“Do I? Then let’s start with this. Why did you take the plane from the shop in San Diego without settling up with the owner, without paying for the labor he provided?”
“It’s true—I haven’t settled the final payment. I’ve run into all kinds of snags, but I didn’t want to burden you with them and distract you from what you came to do. I was only thinking of you, doll.”
“Were you aware that my plane was going to be impounded because of your irresponsible action? That there would be no race for me if I didn’t have a plane?”
“That’s ridiculous! Where did you come up with that hooey?”
“That’s immaterial, but what is important is that you have taken my daddy’s money, cried about cost overruns, and then built a plane where half of the parts aren’t even new.”
“York. He’s put you up to this. He wants the credit for whatever success you have in the race. He’s been trying to squeeze me out since the minute he popped on the scene.”
“No, Ames. You’ve squeezed yourself out. It’s stupid of me that I didn’t see it earlier, that I let myself be drawn in by your charm and your kisses.”
“I’ll make it up to you, doll. I always do.” He squeaked out the words, the panic a high-tension wire that vibrated between them.
“I’ve no doubt you have great intentions, and if it were just me you fooled, I wouldn’t be so angry. What I can’t abide is that you did this to my daddy, that we trusted you.” She took another step back, her arms and legs quivering.
He had no rebuke. No rebuttal. Mittie lifted her chin and saw the defeat in his stooped shoulders. Tears stung her eyes, but she said nothing more.
Ames walked to a low retaining wall of a flower bed and sat down, elbows on his knees. At last, he spoke. “You don’t know what it’s like growing up with a granddaddy who berated you because of your very existence, not knowing if you’d have supper from one night to the next. He was as sorry as smoke off fresh cow manure. Didn’t ever make a crop. We had nothing but the shack we called home.”
Mittie’s heart was in her throat, but she was guarded, too. How did she know it wasn’t another lie? Another attempt to gain sympathy?
“When I was fourteen, an airplane flew over the hog pen while I was doing the chores, and I knew right then that someday, I’d be in that cockpit, that those wings would take me far away where I might be somebody. I didn’t even know that people like you and your family existed. I left when I was sixteen and hitchhiked to New York, which was like the other side of the moon to me. I worked in a factory in Jersey, and one night in a poker game, I won my first plane. Flying and my luck at poker took over my life. I thought I had a real chance at breaking through when I met you.”
The wind had gone from Mittie’s sails, too. “I hope, for your sake, that you do break through. I’m sorry you’ve had a rough time, but no one is immune from hurts in this life, whether you come from paupers or kings. And sometimes we have to make choices. What you chose to do with my daddy’s money is inexcusable.”
“I will make it up to you. You’ll see.”
“It’s too late for that, Ames.” She turned and walked slowly back up the
walk, past the fountain, through the glass doors, and into the lobby with marble floors and bell captains. She squared her shoulders and pushed the button for the elevator. In her room, she peeled off her nylons and fancy dress, laid out her clothes for the next day, brushed her teeth, turned out the light, and cried herself to sleep.
Chapter 30
The grandstands were packed, and someone shouted that Howard Hughes and Hollywood stars were among the spectators. Dozens of photos were taken of the women pilots who would compete in the first-ever women’s air derby. Twenty women were on the official roster, but at noon, just two hours before the official starting time, one girl had still not arrived but had called that she was on her way. Pancho Barnes started a petition stating that she be allowed to compete anyway. Mittie happily added her signature.
Wiley Post was the race official and would fly from stop to stop in a Lockheed Vega with the official timekeeper. He and his longtime flying buddy, Will Rogers, welcomed the girls. Mr. Rogers took a personal interest in each of them, and when he spoke to the crowd in front of the microphone, he said, “These sure are some pretty pilots. I saw one of them powdering her nose a while ago. I believe this fine event should be called the Powder Puff Derby.” The crowd roared with laughter and cheers.
The lightweight aircraft participants were introduced first—Mittie and Calista among them. Amelia and Pancho both flew larger planes, which would give a decided edge with their larger-horsepower engines, so the race committee had determined early on to have two separate classes with prizes for each. But all the women would fly together. United in their mission.
Mittie went over her checklist with Bobby and Victor. Parachute. Three-day emergency food and water supply in case of going down in the mountains or being stranded in the desert. Chewing gum. Extra goggles, gloves, helmet. And two suitcases in the baggage compartment filled with ball gowns for the banquets at each of their eight overnight stops.
Action and purpose took over, leaving no time for emotional pondering, and when the call to line up was announced, Mittie shook hands with Victor, hugged Bobby, and walked tall to her bright yellow plane. Before she got in, she took one last look over her shoulder and waved at Bobby and Victor, but it was the figure that stood in the shadow of the hangar that pinched her heart. Ames. She blew a kiss into the air and hoisted herself up and into the cockpit.