“Flying jobs for women pilots have always been scarce, and 1935 was no exception to the rule. . . . Phoebe Omlie and Amelia Earhart had been working on the Bureau of Air Commerce for two years or more endeavoring to talk them into hiring a few women pilots.”
—Louise Thaden, High, Wide, and Frightened
September 1934—Houghton, Michigan
Nancy shouldn’t be nervous, but she was. Extremely. She was about to introduce Bob Love to her parents. She and Bob had been going steady all summer, yet she hadn’t told her parents he was more than her employer. They might suspect things were more advanced since she’d asked them if she could bring him home to meet them.
“So, you’ve told your parents about me, right?” Bob asked as they taxied the runway in Houghton. They’d just flown in from Boston in one of the Waco cabin planes.
Nancy slugged his arm. “Of course they know about you. My mother’s having you to dinner.”
“But as your boss or as your man?”
Nancy made a move to slug his arm again, but he caught her hand. And grinned. He’d worn a suit, although he’d traded out the suit jacket for his flight jacket temporarily.
“If you don’t want me giving them a rundown of our dinner dates,” he said, “you should tell me what I’m allowed to say.”
“As if you’d listen to me anyway.”
“I always listen to you.”
“That’s pretty much a lie, Mr. Love.”
Bob chuckled. “I’ve never lied to you, Miss Harkness. To clarify, I always listen to you, even if I don’t always do as you say.” He steered the plane toward the hangar. He’d piloted today because, in truth, Nancy’s nerves were a jumbled mess. Whatever she did or did not say to her parents about Bob Love didn’t matter; she knew her father would see through any pretense. Not only that, but she and Bob were also staying overnight, so there would be plenty of time for disaster to happen.
What that disaster might be, Nancy didn’t know. “Fine. I’m going to tell them we’re good friends, you’re my employer, and we’ve gone on a few dates. All things that are true. You may or may not have to win them over. My father is the easygoing one. He’ll even take payments in eggs and vegetables from the community for his job. My mother’s a bit more fearsome. On a random evening, she can be found knitting argyle socks, reading a novel, or beating everyone in a Scrabble game. If they have questions, then they have questions, but if they hate you, I guess I’m searching for a job in Houghton.”
Bob parked the plane next to the hangar. “You wouldn’t dare.”
She looked over at him. In the shade of the hangar, his eyes were a darker blue. “I would dare.”
Fire leaped into his gaze. “You’d quit on me?”
She shrugged, tamping down a smile. “My parents’ opinions are very important to me.”
Bob powered down the plane but made no move to open the door. “You’ve told me enough stories that we both very well know you’re more likely to ask for forgiveness than for permission.”
Nancy let her smile escape.
“So . . .” Bob said slowly. “I think we should get it over with.”
“Meeting my parents?”
“Kissing.”
She stared at him, but his eyes were dead serious. The heat in her chest began to rise into her throat. “Kissing has nothing to do with any of this.”
“It has everything to do with this,” Bob countered. “To even say the word quit tells me that I haven’t made things very clear between us. You don’t know how I feel about you.”
Nancy was definitely blushing if the heat climbing into her cheeks was any indication. “And kissing will clear that up?”
“I believe so.”
Nancy didn’t know if she should laugh or argue or jump out of the plane. She’d kissed boys a time or two, but never . . . a man. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
He didn’t argue. “Let me know if you change your mind.”
He popped open his door, and Nancy grabbed his arm, her heart practically jumping out of her chest. “I’ve changed my mind.”
His gaze cut to hers. “Already?”
She nodded.
The plane door had swung open, but he turned toward her. Leaning close, he slid a thumb along her jaw. “Are you sure?” he whispered.
“I’m sure. Let’s not debate it anymore.” They’d had more than one discussion about kissing, which was kind of ridiculous. Did it really need to be analyzed? But that was how Bob was: technical, analytical, and making sure she was with him every step of the way.
“I couldn’t agree more.” He closed the distance.
Her eyes slid shut as his lips touched hers. His mouth was soft yet firm, as if he already knew what he wanted. Or who he wanted. Goose bumps raced across her skin, and she let her mind push away all other questions, to focus completely on this man as she kissed him back.
Of course her first kiss with Bob Love would be on a plane. At least they weren’t flying—well, her heart was flying. Before she could internally debate anything further, she grasped his shoulders and tugged him closer. Bob smiled against her mouth and didn’t complain. For once.
When they drew apart, he said, “That was an excellent plan.”
“I need to find a powder room.” Nancy tried to catch her breath. “I think you messed up my hair.”
“I can help,” he said, reaching for her again.
She put a hand on his chest to stop him. “Don’t you dare try.”
Bob laughed, then raised both hands. “Fine.” He climbed out of the plane and extended his hand to help her out.
She kept her gaze averted as she climbed out, because he was looking at her like he might kiss her again. Now that they were outside the plane, someone might see them.
After she corrected her appearance in the ladies’ room, she exited to find Bob in conversation with one of the airport mechanics. She recognized him—Jimmy Hansen—with his black hair and dozens of freckles.
“Nancy, you’re back.” Jimmy turned his wide grin on her. “You’re looking swell.”
She guessed he would have hugged her, but his coveralls were stained with grease. He always did like to do a lot of mechanical work.
“Thanks, Jimmy. Great to see you. I’m here for a quick visit to see my parents.”
Jimmy wiped his hands on an equally stained cloth. “I told Mr. Love here that I was your first flight instructor.”
“That’s right—and you were excellent.”
“Ah, I don’t know about that.” Jimmy rubbed the back of his neck, smudging his skin. “We were two kids trying to figure it all out.”
Nancy wouldn’t have put it quite that way.
Jimmy appraised her, quite openly, in fact. He was a good guy but had always liked her more than she’d liked him.
She reached for Bob’s hand. Maybe to send a statement, not only to Jimmy but to Bob as well. After all, the man had just thoroughly kissed her.
Bob’s fingers linked with hers.
Jimmy’s face flushed. The silent message had been received. “Tell the folks hello.”
“Will do. Thanks, Jimmy. Nice to see you again.”
“You too,” Jimmy said, and she turned with Bob and walked out of the hangar.
“Old flame?” Bob asked when they’d walked several yards and then stopped near the parking lot.
Nancy scoffed. “Not even close. He’s a nice kid. He let me bulldoze my way into getting the private pilot’s license as fast as humanly possible.”
“I can see how—he was pretty enamored.”
She looked up at Bob to find his eyes on her. She couldn’t read the emotion on his face. “You don’t have to worry about Jimmy.”
“Oh, I wasn’t worried.” He smiled. “I kind of like how you claimed me.” He brought their linked hands up.
Just then, Nancy spied her father’s car pulling up. “Our ride is here.”
“Should I let go of your hand?” Bob asked, still clasping it to his chest.
“No.” She kept a firm hold on his hand as her father parked and climbed out of the car. If he was surprised, he didn’t show it. “Daddy, I’d like you to meet Bob Love.”
Only at that point did she release Bob’s hand so that he could shake her father’s.
“Dr. Harkness. A pleasure to meet you.”
Nancy looked at the pair, trying to gauge the reaction of both men to each other. Both smiled easily, and she decided that was a good sign. She gave her father a hug.
On the drive to the house, her father asked Bob all sorts of questions about Inter City. Things that he already knew because Nancy had told him. But she understood that her father was vetting the man anyway. She’d made a pretty strong statement after all. From the men’s conversation, Nancy knew her father respected Bob. She could hear the warmth in both of their voices.
Mother might be a different story.
And Nancy was right.
Oh, the dinner went well. But her mother was quiet, letting Nancy and the men carry the conversation.
Bob complimented her mother on the meal more than once, but she barely murmured a thank-you. Nancy could tell her father noticed, and he was trying to make up for her mother’s lack of enthusiasm by being extra jovial. If only her brother were here. He could always sweet-talk Mother out of any of her moods.
And how would it be to have her brother meet Bob? A pang of nostalgia for her brother swept through her, and she thought of Alison, his widow. Nancy traded letters with Alison and loved getting cards and artwork from her nephews. Their visits, though, were relegated to holidays, and Nancy had learned not to talk about her sister-in-law or nephews around her mother unless her mother instigated the conversation. Nancy never knew if it would send her mother into tears.
Nancy had to quickly redirect her thoughts, so she stood to clear the plates after the meal. Bob rose as well to help.
“You’re our guest,” Mother pointedly told Bob. “Why don’t you men visit in the living room, then we’ll join you later.” She looked at Nancy, including her in the we comment.
Nancy could see that Bob was about to protest, so she said, “Yes, why don’t you and Dad go relax. I’ll help my mother, and we’ll be in soon.”
A line between Bob’s eyebrows appeared, but he agreed. “All right. If you change your mind—”
Nancy waved him off, then picked up two of the plates and followed her mother into the kitchen. Mother turned on the faucet and began to fill the sink with hot water.
Nancy set the plates down on the counter. She fetched the rest of the dishes and utensils. By the time she’d finished, her mother had started washing the dishes. So Nancy rinsed and dried.
Her mother worked silently, her lips pursed so that her mouth almost disappeared.
“What do you think of Bob?” Nancy finally asked because she was tired of waiting for her mother to speak.
“He seems to be a fine man,” Mother said stiffly.
“But . . . ?”
Her mother handed over a sudsy serving bowl, and Nancy rinsed it off.
“I thought you were going back to secretarial school after your summer job.”
Nancy had told both of her parents her plans, so this was an old argument. “You know aviation is what I want to do. I’m making close to what I might as a secretary.”
Her mother’s lips pursed again as she handed over a set of utensils.
Nancy took them and rinsed them off. Setting them in the drying rack, she turned to face her mother. “Is that all?”
Her mother met her gaze, and to Nancy’s surprise, Mother’s eyes filled with tears. “You’re only twenty, Nancy. Are you going to marry that man and leave me too?”
Nancy’s eyes widened. “What are you talking about?”
Mother reached into the soapy water and pulled out the drain stopper. She snatched the drying cloth and began to wipe down the sink area. “You said you were friends, although your father thought there might be more to it. But this is much more, Nancy.”
Nancy had no words. Had Father told Mother about the hand holding when he’d picked them up? No, there hadn’t been a private moment between them. She might as well fully confess. “We’re going steady.”
Her mother gave a soft laugh, but it wasn’t in amusement. “It’s more than that, Nancy. The way he watches you makes that obvious. And the way you look to him for every comment only seals the deal.”
Nancy opened her mouth, then shut it. She hadn’t known her mother would react so strongly to her having a boyfriend. She was twenty now, and that was plenty in age to make this sort of decision. “Father seems to like him.”
Mother paused in her brisk work. “It’s not about liking the man. It’s about . . . well, he’s very serious about you, Nancy. Is that what you want to be? Married to a man who has to depend on airplane sales when the country is in the middle of a depression? Normal people can’t afford airplanes, and rich people are no longer rich!”
Had Mother’s voice carried into the living room? Nancy’s throat had soured. Her mother’s complaints were only partially valid. People were buying planes, maybe not in droves, but Inter City was still in business, wasn’t it? Truthfully, she’d never had a detailed conversation about finances with Bob. There hadn’t been a need to.
Besides, this conversation was much too premature. She didn’t want to be tied down to a husband because babies would follow, and then how would she keep rising in her aviation career? Bob was supportive of her dreams, yet she also knew that things could change if there were children involved.
“You don’t have to worry, Mother,” she said firmly. “I’m nowhere near getting married. Someday, I might marry and have children. But not today, and not for a long time.”
Pink spots appeared on Mother’s cheeks, but she looked only slightly mollified.
“I miss Bobbin too,” Nancy said quietly.
And then they were hugging. She knew her mother must spend a lot of time alone when her father was working. Maybe she’d hoped Nancy would get a secretary job in Houghton and move back home, or at least be nearby. Nancy couldn’t imagine a worse job for her. The most steady job for a pilot would be working for the government, but that would be a long shot.
When she drew away, she handed her mother a tissue.
“Thank you,” Mother whispered. “I’ll finish up in here. You can join the men.”
“I have a better idea,” Nancy said. “I’ll show Bob around the property, and you can talk to Daddy about all this.”
Mother released a breath. “All right.”
Nancy gave her mother another squeeze, then headed to the front room. Both Bob and her father were playing a game of cards while debating some politics happening overseas in Europe.
“Want to play?” Bob asked, seeing her immediately.
“Yes, join us,” Father said.
“Maybe later. I thought I’d take you on the grand tour before it gets too dark,” Nancy said to Bob. She looked at her father. “Mother’s in the kitchen.”
Father’s brows rose. “All right.” He seemed to clue into the fact that maybe he should go into the kitchen as well.
Bob rose to his feet. “A tour sounds excellent.”
Nancy headed toward the front door. Bob joined her, and they stepped out onto the porch together.
She folded her arms and walked down the steps. Bob kept pace with her as they moved around the side of the house. Memories of her childhood seemed to bombard her as she entered the backyard. Learning to ride a bicycle. Sleepovers with her friends as they’d tried to count all the stars. Picking apples with Robert.
“Everything all right?” Bob asked quietly when she finally stopped near the swell of apple trees.
“I feel like I brought you to a house of grieving.”
“There’s no timeline on grief.” He moved closer and set his hands on her shoulders. “Is my name a problem, you know, the same as your brother’s?”
Nancy wrinkled her nose. “No. Mother called him Bobbin anyway.” Her gaze fell. “I think it’s more . . .”
“More what?”
His hands on her shoulders were warm, steady, and comforting somehow. If she couldn’t tell him about the conversation with her mother, then she couldn’t claim to have an honest relationship with him. And she definitely wanted that. More than she’d realized.
“My mother thinks we’re very serious, and she’s worried that I’m too young to . . . you know, be serious.”
He didn’t seem too surprised. “Well, I am serious about you, Nancy. But I’ll wait for you. As long as you need.”
She stepped into his arms, holding him close and breathing in his leather-and-washed-cotton scent.
He pulled her in tight and rested his chin on top of her head.
Closing her eyes, she decided that when she was ready to commit to a man, she hoped Bob would still be waiting.