Page 73 of Soaring Sweethearts

After hanging up, she forced herself to stand up and walk to Mr. Dickson’s office.

You’re still a professional. You have a job to do.

She knocked on Mr. Dickson’s door.

“What is it?” he called through the door.

“It’s Miss Pritchard. Can I come in?”

“Yes.”

She opened the door and stood beside the chair, looking at the desk instead of Mr. Dickson. “Mr. Massey called from Bellefonte. Jack Thompson hasn’t landed yet. He wanted me to let you know.” Her voice barely shook as she said it. She should have been proud of herself.

“Miss Pritchard, are you quite all right?”

Sugar cookies! She hadn’t managed to fool him after all. “Mr. Thompson is a close family friend. I’ve known him since we were children. If something has happened to him, my brother would be devastated.”

And he would. Just not nearly as much as she would. He had Millie. Losing Jack would hurt, but he had a reason to live, a reason to move on, whereas she would be a hollowed-out husk. She’d given Jack everything and kept nothing back.

At least she wasn’t crying. Yet. There was no reason to cry. Nothing had happened. He was just a little late calling in.

“Of course, Miss Pritchard. Thank you for letting me know. You may return to your desk.” He looked at her with more gruff sympathy than she could stand, so she hurried back to her station.

Worrying her lip, she stared at the phone, willing it to ring. And it did, several times. But never with the news she needed as much as her next breath. After the longest day of her life, the clock hands reached five-thirty.

Will Barnett stopped by her desk. “Pritchard asked me to give you a ride back to Brooklyn tonight. Are you ready to go?”

She shook her head. There was no way she was leaving that telephone until she had news of Jack. “I’m sorry, but I need to work late.”

“Listen, I’ve got plans when I get home. I can’t wait here. Is there someone else you could catch a ride with?”

There wasn’t, but she was hardly going to hold him hostage. Millie had given her a key to the tiny apartment nearby that Ernie and Jack rented. She could always take a taxi there and stay the night. “I’ll find another ride. Don’t worry about me.”

She tried her best for a smile, and he furrowed his brow as he returned it. “Are you sure?”

“I’m fine. Truly I am.” She widened her smile until her cheeks hurt.

“Okay, then. I’ll see you tomorrow, Miss Pritchard.”

He sauntered out, leaving her alone with the silent phone, and she braced herself for a long, agonizing wait.

Around seven-thirty, the phone rang, and Constance picked it up before the first ring finished. “Heller Airport.”

In her anxiety to hear news, she didn’t even introduce herself.

“Constance, It’s Millie. I just heard Jack hasn’t landed at Bellefonte yet. Are you all right?” Never had she been more disappointed to hear from her friend.

“No.” Her voice came out hoarse.

“Oh, sweetie. Is there anything I can do?”

Get off the phone, she thought ungratefully. Her friend was worried about her, but all she could think of was that she might miss a call from him. “Pray,” she said softly. It was all she could come up with.

“I will. And I’ll let you go. I don’t want to tie up the line. But if there’s anything I can do, just call Massachusetts 85243.”

“Thank you.” She scribbled down the number. “See you soon.”

“See you soon.”