“The [Bendix] race was, at best, a hard one, even when the skies were clear and smooth. More often than not, the weather was not so good and then it became an exceedingly grueling contest. Always, there were keen disappointments for pilots like me. Oftentimes they were heartbreaking.”
—Jacqueline Cochran, 1934
May 1934—New York City
“What’s Bob Love like?” Susie asked as she pinned up her blonde curls, facing the mirror in the boxlike bathroom of their apartment.
Susie, Tommy, and Nancy were all getting ready to go out on the town. Their time together was winding down with the approaching summer. Nancy was grateful they’d decided to get out of their apartment and hopefully shake the gloom she’d felt. The founder of the Katharine Gibbs Secretarial School had died on May 9, and the program would continue under the direction of her youngest son, Gordon, and his wife.
“Are you going to tell us about this man?” Susie pressed.
“He’s a bit hard to figure out, to be honest.” Nancy leaned forward to peer into the corner of the mirror and apply her lipstick. Raspberry red.
Tommy materialized in the doorway, wearing a yellow dress with a white collar, belted at the waist, and sporting short, cuffed sleeves. The yellow of the dress brightened the red tones of her hair. “If you’re trying to figure out a man, that means you’re interested.” She turned. “Can you zip me up?”
Nancy obliged and zipped up the back of Tommy’s dress.
“Bob’s my employer, ladies. Nothing more.” Nancy met both of her roommates’ gazes in the mirror but couldn’t keep her smile hidden from them.
Tommy leaned against the doorframe and grinned. “And he’s single, midtwenties, has a fledgling career, comes from wealth—”
Nancy swatted Tommy with a pair of white gloves. “All my friends at Vassar came from wealth. It doesn’t impress me. In fact, it un-impresses me.”
Tommy wrinkled her nose. “Is that a word?”
“Do you want to be impressed?” Susie cut in, tying her bow at the neckline of her red-and-white print dress.
“I think she does,” Tommy said in a singsong voice as her eyebrows bounced.
“No comment.” Nancy moved out of the now-too-crowded bathroom. “I’ll wait for you gossips outside. Need to clear my head.”
Her roommates laughed as she made good on her word and headed to the front door. It was a warm spring night in New York, and at the adjacent apartment, there seemed to be quite the party going on. The french doors to the patio stood wide open, and people either lounged at a couple of small tables or milled about, beers in hand. Henry Wilder’s father owned a brewery, and even though their pilot friends could barely afford dinner, there was always plenty of free beer. With the prohibition laws finally lifted, parties didn’t have to be sequestered to underground speakeasies anymore.
Speaking of Henry—he sat at the table with three other girls. He was certainly a flirt with everyone, which meant Nancy didn’t take any of his compliments to heart.
“Nancy, is that you? Come on over.”
She waved him off. “Not tonight. Plans with the roommates.”
Henry’s easy smile appeared, and his brown eyes sparked. He stood and hopped over the low wall separating them.
“You’re all gussied up,” he said with appreciation. “Where’re you headed?”
“Not sure yet,” Nancy said. “We’ll know when we get there.”
Henry was leaning a bit closer than she cared for, and she wondered how many beers he’d had.
“You’re always so composed, Harkness,” he drawled. “In the cockpit and out of it. Nothing ruffles you. A woman who can set a man like Bob Love to straights is a wonder indeed.”
She had no idea what he was talking about. “Trying to butter me up for something, Wilder?”
He laughed, then swayed.
“You should sit down, Henry,” she said, pressing a finger against his chest. “Wouldn’t want to trip on something.”
Henry obeyed and perched on the short wall. “See? You’re always so wise. You say it like it is. Bob says you’re smarter than any of the male pilots he’s worked with.”
Nancy shouldn’t let herself take the compliment personally, but she couldn’t help the warmth that simmered. “He did? When did he say that?”
“He called me up the other day.”
Well, this was news to Nancy. Although it wasn’t like she was having daily conversations with Henry Wilder anyway. Between cramming in her classes and working in Boston the last few weekends, tonight was the first time she’d been social in a while.
“What else did he say?” Nancy couldn’t help but ask. Maybe Henry would forget this conversation by morning anyhow.
“Oh, he didn’t say much . . . No, it was more like he was asking me questions about you, and I was doing all the talking.”
Nancy didn’t know if she should be pleased or nervous. What could Bob Love possibly be asking questions about? He knew the basics about her qualifications. He’d made it a habit of picking her up in New York, then flying her to Boston to work for the weekend, and later returning her by plane. Sometimes he piloted; sometimes she did.
“Well, he asked if you were going steady with anyone,” Henry continued casually, though it rocked through her. “I said I wouldn’t call any of your beaux steady—but you’re always surrounded by men who want to pay for your dinner.”
“That’s an exaggeration, Henry.” Nancy set her hands on her hips, her mind reeling at such a question from Bob Love. He could have asked her himself. So why hadn’t he? And why did he want to know in the first place? She tamped down the fluttering in her chest. “I’m with my roommates most of the time, and our male friends insist on paying, that’s all. You’re making it sound like I’m dating hordes of men.” Dinner paid for was better than tomato soup, of course.
She wanted to ask Henry more questions, but Tommy and Susie came out of the apartment.
“Oh, maybe we should stay here with Henry.” Susie flashed him a smile.
Henry held out his hand. “You can sit by me, doll.”
“No, we’re leaving. And you need to sober up.” Nancy didn’t want Henry to pick up the conversation they’d been having. If he had more to tell her about Bob Love, she wanted to hear it in private, not surrounded by her nosy friends.
She linked arms with Tommy and Susie, propelling them toward the street bathed in twilight. They headed along the sidewalk together, waving when Henry called after them.
“He’s smitten with you, Nancy,” Tommy said.
“Hardly.” She cut a glance toward Susie, who was biting her lip. If Nancy were to guess, Susie had a small crush on Henry Wilder herself. “Susie’s the one he invited to stay.”
“True. What about it, Susie?”
Susie waved her hand in a flourish. “He’ll have to follow me to New Jersey. I hate New York in the summer. My parents will be staying at Martha’s Vineyard, and not even a man could tempt me to remain here.”
Both Nancy and Tommy laughed.
“No one can ever hate New York City,” Tommy gushed. “It’s the city of speakeasies, skyscrapers, and the Yankees.”
Susie only smiled, and after they grabbed dinner at a cozy diner none of them could really afford, Tommy said, “Let’s go to the airfield and watch the sun rise.”
Sunrise was still a whole night away, but it was one of Nancy’s favorite things to do, sitting on the grassy knoll at the edge of Roosevelt Field. They’d watch the final planes coming in, then wait for the sun to rise as the sky shifted from black to gray to violet.
The evening had yet to cool off, holding on to the afternoon heat in a tight-fisted grip, so they spread out their sweaters on the short, spiky grass and lay back, gazing up at the hopeful moon and the litter of stars.
“Anyone bring cigarettes?” Susie asked when their conversation slowed.
“Me.” Tommy lit one up and passed it down the line.
After taking a drag, Nancy said, “If I fall asleep, make sure you wake me at dawn.”
“No one’s falling asleep,” Susie insisted. “We’re going to discuss our hopes and dreams and futures.”
They all laughed.
“And how someday we’ll purchase our own airplanes and fly whenever and wherever we please.” Tommy puffed out another plume of smoke, and it lazily floated upward before dissipating into the black of night.
“Hear, hear,” Nancy said, thinking of Bob and how he already had that privilege.
Susie had been right. They stayed awake all night talking about everything and nothing.
But when the rosy hues of dawn cracked the sky, Nancy felt reluctant to move and break up the magic of the timeless atmosphere. “I need to get home, clean up, then get to class,” she mumbled. “I don’t know about you girls, but I’ll be taking a nap this afternoon, so keep things quiet.”
“I’m calling in sick to the dress shop.” Susie stood, stifled a yawn, and attempted to brush the wrinkles out of her skirt. “They can survive a day without me.”
Nancy honestly wasn’t sure why Susie worked in a dress shop. She loved clothing, sure, but her family was well-to-do. Nancy guessed it to be a power play between Susie and her parents. They’d said they wouldn’t pay for flying if she wasn’t holding a job. Nancy had offered to talk to Bob about Susie needing a job in flying, but she’d waved off the suggestion.
“I fly for fun,” Susie had declared, “not work.”
So, Nancy had left it at that.
When they made it back to their apartment, the next-door party was long over. Nancy headed to class, and by the time she was home in the early afternoon, she felt dead on her feet.
Still, she wouldn’t trade the night out with her friends for extra sleep. When she climbed onto her bed and closed her eyes, she let her mind drift. Moments later, the ringing of a phone awakened her. She ignored the sound and tried to fall asleep again when the phone started up a second round.
“Someone answer the phone,” she called, but no one answered back.
She cracked her eyes open. The setting sun had filled her room with a burnished glow. She’d fallen asleep and had slept much longer than she’d planned. Moving off the bed, she headed into the kitchen, half in a daze. The phone started ringing a third time.
“This better be important,” she said into the receiver.
The person on the other end of the line must have been stunned into silence because no one said a word.
“Hello?” she asked, about a half second from hanging up, then leaving the phone off the hook.
“Miss Harkness?” a man’s voice rumbled across the line.
Her back stiffened. It was him. “Mr. Love?”
“Yes. How are you?”
How am I? What employer calls to ask that? And why was Bob Love calling her in the first place? Was there bad news about his airport? Was he firing her? “Why are you calling? I’m fine, by the way.”
She heard his chuckle all the way from Boston. He wouldn’t be laughing if he were calling with bad news, right?
“Always direct.”
“Bob, I mean, Mr. Love, I just woke up from a nap, and I’m a bit foggy-brained. It would be best if you got right to the point.”
He didn’t laugh a second time, but she swore she heard the smile in his voice when he asked, “Why were you asleep? It’s not even dinnertime.”
She looked toward the windows. Dinnertime wasn’t the same for everyone. “Maybe I had my dinner, and I’m going to bed early.”
“You said it was nap.”
“I did.”
He was still smiling—she’d bet on it. “You haven’t answered my question. Now you’re making me worried that you’re going to fire me.”
“No, I’m not going to fire you.” He was definitely amused.
Relief shot through her, but she was only more curious now. Or maybe it was nerves. Why was he calling her? He hadn’t called before, even though he’d written all her contact information.
“I wondered if you have dinner plans tomorrow night,” Bob asked. “I’m coming to New York.”
This was a surprise. Nancy leaned against the kitchen counter. “But tomorrow is Thursday.”
“Yes, it is a Thursday.”
Nancy’s cheeks felt hot. “You’re flying in a day early?”
“Correct, and I wondered if you’d like to go to dinner.”
At his airport, they’d shared some random meals together, but this felt more . . . more like an official date. Was he asking her on a date, or did he just need someone to have dinner with before he . . . what? “I don’t understand. Do you want me to meet some of your aviation friends?”
She heard his sigh on the phone.
“Not unless we happen to run into someone. You pick the restaurant. I’ll pick you up. We’ll have dinner and talk. You know, like men and women frequently do on a night out?”
Nancy’s pulse was skipping all over the place, as if it couldn’t decide whether to speed up or slow down or give her a heart attack right there. “Is this a date, Mr. Love?”
“I believe it is. Well, it would be if you agree.”
She drew in a breath, then released it. Was there really any harm in saying yes? “Will my reply affect my employment status?”
“No, Nancy. I’d never . . .” He cleared his throat, and she imagined a flush creeping up his neck. “I’m a man of integrity, or at least, I try to be. I’d like to take you out for dinner tomorrow night. On a date.” He paused. “I must admit that I’ve never had this much pushback before from a woman over a dinner invitation.”
Did she really need to overanalyze this? It was dinner. Plain and simple. “Okay.”
“Okay?” His voice sounded incredulous. “Okay, you’ll go?”
“Yes.” By the time Nancy hung up, she was the one with a flushed neck. She knew one thing—she wouldn’t be going back to sleep anytime soon. She had a date to plan for.