Danielle Steel - Wings

Instead they talked about the press conferences Desmond had set up in L.A. and New York. And he wanted them to go to Chicago for an interview after the weekend, but so far Cassie hadn't agreed to do it.

“God, it's exhausting, isn't it?” She smiled at Billy when they were halfway there. She was glad she was going home. She needed to see her parents.

“I figure that later we'll think it was all worth it,” Billy encouraged her, and she shrugged, feeling better.

“I hope so.”

They flew on in silence for a while, and then he looked at her. She had looked particularly tired and unhappy lately. He suspected that the constant pressure from the press was getting to her. They were a lot easier on him. But they devoured Cassie, and Desmond never seemed to protect her from them. On the contrary, he liked them.

“You okay, Cass?” Billy asked after a while. She was like a younger sister to him, or a very best friend. They spent almost all their time together every day, and they never argued, or snapped at each other, or got tired of each other's company. She was going to be the perfect companion for the Pacific tour, and he was gladder than ever that he was going.

“Yeah… I'm okay… I'm feeling better. It'll be good to get home and see everyone.”

He nodded. He had gone to San Francisco the week before, to see his father, who was so proud of him. He knew how much Cassie's family meant to her. She needed them right now, just as he had needed to see his father. And then, suddenly, alone in the plane, he found himself wanting to ask her something he had felt awkward asking her before. But she seemed very relaxed now.

“Do you ever hear from Nick?” he asked casually, and she stared out into the clouds for a long time and then shook her head.

“Nope, I don't. He wanted us both to be free. I guess he got what he wanted.”

“Docs he know?” Billy asked quietly, sorry that things hadn't worked out for them. Nick was a great guy, and Billy had always sensed how much Cassie loved him. Right from the first day he'd met them. It was as though they belonged to each other.

“About Desmond?” she asked, and he nodded. “No. Since he didn't want to write, I figured he'd just hear eventually. I didn't want to write and tell him.” She also didn't want to write him and upset the balance.

Something like that could make you just loose enough to make a fatal mistake in a fighter plane, and she didn't want that. “He must know by now. I know he writes to my dad sometimes.” But she had never asked Fat if he had told him. It was still too painful to even think about, and she forced him from her mind as they flew over Kansas.

The press was waiting for them as they touched down in Illinois. They had spent the entire day waiting for them at her father's airport. And she knew there wasn't going to be any peace anymore, not until after the tour. It was just too close now.

She did what Desmond always wanted her to, gave them plenty of time, lots of photographs, satisfied them by answering some questions, and then she called it a day, and said she was anxious to go home to her mother.

Her father had been waiting for her, and he posed for photographs with her too, as did Billy. And then finally, the photographers left, and she heaved a sigh of relief, as she and Billy threw their things into her father's truck, and he looked at her with a long, slow smile. But she had noticed as soon as they'd arrived that her father didn't look well.

“You okay, Dad?” He looked kind of gray, and she didn't like it. But she figured maybe he'd had influenza. She knew her mother had when they returned from California. And he worked hard for a man his age. Harder now that Nick was gone, and she and Billy, and Chris.… He had to rely entirely on hired hands, and the usual nomadic crews of wandering pilots.

“I'm fine,” he said unconvincingly. And then he looked anxiously at his daughter. Oona said he should have told her on the phone, but he wasn't sure what to say. But she had to know now. Pat hadn't told Nick either. And amazingly neither had anyone else. He had only arrived the night before though.

“Something wrong?” She had sensed his hesitation. Billy was unaware of it, as he looked at the familiar landscape out the window.

“Nick is here,” he said all at one gulp, looking straight ahead.

“He is? Where is he staying?” she asked uncomfortably.

“At his own place. But I imagine he'll come by the house eventually. I thought I'd better warn you.”

“Does he know I'm coming?” Pat shook his head, and Billy watched her eyes. He had just heard what her father had said, and he hoped it wouldn't upset her too much.

“Not yet. He got in last night. He's just here for a few days. I didn't have a chance to tell him.” She didn't dare ask if he had told him she was married.

She said not another word, and a few minutes later she was in the arms of her mother. Billy carried in her things, and Pat took him into Chris's room. His things were still everywhere, and it was a shock to walk in and see it. It made Cassie's heart ache to look around. It was as though he would be home any minute.

She settled into her old room, and her mother had dinner waiting for them. It was a hot, simple meal of the things Cassie liked best, fried chicken, corn on the cob, and mashed potatoes.

“I'd be the size of this house if I lived here,” Cassie said happily between mouthfuls.

“Me too,” Billy grinned happily, and her mother was flattered.

“You've lost weight,” Oona reproached her with a worried frown. But Billy was quick to explain it.

“We've been working pretty hard, Mrs. O’Malley. Test flights fifteen hours a day. Long distance runs all over the country, we're testing everything we can before July.”

“I'm glad to hear it,” Pat said.

And as Oona cleared the table and prepared to serve them apple pie with homemade vanilla ice cream, they heard footsteps on the porch, and Cassie felt her heart stop. She was looking at her plate, and she had to force her eyes up to look at him as he came through the door. She didn't want to see him, but she knew she had to. And when she did, he took her breath away. He was more handsome than he had ever been, with his jet black hair, brilliant blue eyes, and a dark suntan. She almost gasped when she saw him, and then she blushed bright red, and no one moved or said a word. It was as though they all knew what was coming.

“Did I interrupt something?” Nick asked awkwardly. He could sense the tension in the room, like another person. And then he saw Billy. “Hiya, kid. How's it going?” He strode around the room to shake his hand, and Billy stood up, grinning, his face still freckled, his eyes alight with pleasure to see him.

“Things are great. What about you, Stick?”

“I'm starting to sound like a limey.” And then, inevitably, he looked down at her, and their eyes met. There was a world of sadness in hers, and a look of wonder in his. He had missed her more than he had ever wanted. “Hi, Cass,” he said quietly. “You're looking good. Getting ready for the tour, I guess.” The last newsreel he'd seen had talked about it, but it was five months old. They were a little behind the times at Hornchurch, for obvious reasons. He had done nothing but fly for the last year, every moment, every hour, every second. That and pull the bodies of dead women and children from burning buildings in London. It had been a tough year, but he felt as though he were being useful. It was better than sitting here, picking corn from his teeth and waiting for mail runs to Minnesota.

Oona offered him dessert, and he sat down cautiously. He could sense that he had interrupted something, or that they all felt awkward with him. Or maybe he just imagined it. He wasn't sure, but he chatted amiably with Billy and Pat, and Cassie said nothing. She went out to the kitchen to help her mother. But she had to come back eventually, while they all ate dessert. She didn't touch her apple pie, even though her mother knew she loved it. Pat knew what was wrong with her. And so did Billy. But Nick had no idea what had happened.