Page 85 of Plane Passion

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?