Page 83 of Soaring Sweethearts

With little energy to argue, she let Ann and Rory coax her into Rory’s Bentley, and they drove to the local dress shop. Rory tried to argue for going to Fifth Avenue in Manhattan, but Ann gently dissuaded her.

“Contance doesn’t need haute couture. She just needs something special to her. I’m sure the shop she knows will do just fine.”

She’d bought the rose-colored dress she wore to the ice cream social at Mrs. Pearson’s Ladies’ Emporium, and Jack had liked that well enough. For a moment, she was lost in memories of that day and of the magical night that followed. How was it possible that less than a week had passed?

Tears brimmed in her eyes, and she pulled the delicate handkerchief Ann made for her from her purse. It has little roses embroidered along all the edges. Ann’s talent with a needle was truly extraordinary.

By the time they reached the shop, she managed to dry her tears. Thank heavens she hadn’t put on any makeup aside from lipstick. Otherwise, her face would be a runny mess.

Flanked by Ann and Rory, she examined her dress options. To her, they all looked the same. None of them were good enough for Jack, no matter how many charming details her friends pointed out. And then she saw it—a black silk version of the dress she wore to the social.

“That one,” she said, pointing.

“Are you sure that’s the one?” Rory asked. “I’m rather fond of this one.” She lifted up a lacey black dress with a daring cut that Constance couldn’t imagine wearing in public, let alone to a funeral.

“That’s the one,” Constance said firmly. She took it to the dressing room and tried it on, and it was a perfect fit. “I’ll wear it home.”

She paid at the counter and carried her old black dress out in a bag, followed by her friends. “You were right. I’m glad I’m wearing something that’s just for him. He’s the love of my life, and I should dress in something special to say goodbye.”

She’d never worn this dress before and would never wear it again. It was for this day and this day alone—the day she had to say goodbye to Jack forever.

The hours dragged as they returned to the Pritchard residence and the hour of the funeral approached. Ann and Rory let her sit in silence and knit while they chatted and nudged her to eat a few bites, then fussed over her hair. It was good to have their company, even if she didn’t feel up to engaging with them.

At last, it was time to leave for the church. Pop had left early to prepare, since he was leading the service, but all the other Pritchards headed out in a group. Ann and Rory continued to flank Constance as they had all day, looping their arms through hers for the short walk to the church.

The ladies from the PBA had helped with setup, and they’d done a beautiful job. There was a small table at the entrance to the sanctuary with baskets of handkerchiefs for attendees to take. Two ladies stood beside it, handing out neatly printed orders of service. She took one and saw her own name listed under the “Eulogies” section, beneath Jack’s sister’s.

She’d avoided visiting the Thompsons because it was too painful, but now she felt a stab of guilt, seeing them at the front of the church, his mother wearing a black mourning veil. She might have lost the love of her life, but Mrs. Thompson lost her son. How could a mother ever recover from such a grief?

She took a seat in the pew behind them, and Mrs. Thompson turned to her. “Oh, my dear! He told us he proposed to you. I’m so sorry. This should have been your wedding, not his funeral.”

Yes, it should have been, if anything on this earth was fair and just. “Thank you, Mrs. Thompson. I miss him so much, and I’m so sorry for your loss.” The words sounded trite, but she didn’t know what else to say. How do you answer a grief so deep?

The organ started to play, and she reached for Ann and Rory’s hands. If she was going to get through this service, she needed all the support she could get.

Just as the organ music ended and her father stepped up to the pulpit, there was a commotion at the back of the church.

“Stop the service. I’m here. I’m not dead. Constance, are you here?”

That voice. It could only be one person. But her heart must have been playing tricks on her because it wasn’t possible. She was hallucinating.

Every head in the church turned toward the back, and she looked too. There he was, walking down the aisle with a bandage around his head and a scruffy beard. But this wasn’t possible. Her eyes were playing tricks on her. She was seeing what she wanted to see because her heart couldn’t accept the truth. Did she fall asleep or faint? Was she dreaming?

“Jack,” Mrs. Thompson cried out, and went running to embrace her son.

“Mama, I’m so sorry.” He hugged her and held her for a long moment before he looked up and searched the crowd until his gaze met Constance’s.

“Constance, I need to hold you in my arms. I know you might not ever forgive me for what’s happened, but I need you right now. Please.”

It might have all been a dream, but if it was, she didn’t want to wake up. Squeezing her way out of the pew, she ran to him and wrapped her arms around him. He held her so tight that she couldn’t breathe, but she didn’t care. He was here. No hallucination could ever be this real. He felt like Jack, smelled like Jack, and when he crushed his lips to hers, he tasted like Jack.

A thousand questions erupted around them, but she didn’t care. The two of them were in their own world, and nothing else mattered. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she kissed him again and again, unable and unwilling to let go.

“Marry me today. Now. I don’t want to spend another day of my life without you,” he murmured between kisses. “I quit the airmail. I’ll never fly another airplane again if you don’t want me to. Just say you’ll be mine. I can’t wait any longer.”

“Yes,” she kissed him harder and deeper, not caring how many onlookers there were or how much the church ladies might gossip. “I’ll marry you.”

He swept her off her feet and carried her to the front of the church. “Reverend, I need you to perform a different service. Everybody’s here. I have a marriage license ready, and we don’t want to wait. With your blessing, I’d like to marry your daughter right now.”