Soaring Home

When the children returned, she had to feed them, bathe them and put them to bed. By the time she returned home, she was so exhausted that she fell into bed, too tired to undress.

“I’m not made for this,” Darcy complained to Beatrice. She’d taken the afternoon off to help her friend tie bows for the wedding. After the last of dozens, Darcy never wanted to touch satin ribbon again. She lay on Beattie’s bed facedown, stretching her aching muscles. “I don’t know how Amelia manages. All right, I do know, because she tells me how every single day. But I can’t seem to make it work. Freddie and Lizzie won’t listen, and Helen refuses to come out from under the stairs.”

Beatrice placed the last of the bows into a big basket. “Remember, they’re her babes. It’s always different with your own.”

“Well, you can have married life. It’s not for me. After this is over, I’m going back to Buffalo to finish flight lessons.”

“What if your mother still needs you?” That was Beattie’s delicate way of asking what she’d do if something happened to Amelia.

Darcy refused to consider that possibility. “Everything will go fine. It always has in the past. By April, I’ll be back in the air.” She pantomimed steering a plane with the pillow as the wheel, but Beattie snatched the pillow from her.

“Stop being silly,” she huffed.

Darcy sensed trouble. “What’s bothering you? The wedding?”

Beattie traced the embroidered flowers on the pillowcase. “Do you think of Jack often?”

A sharp pang shot through Darcy. Hearing his name aloud somehow hurt worse than thinking about him. “Sometimes.”

“And you miss him?”

Darcy couldn’t acknowledge her feelings, not when he’d made it clear he didn’t want to get involved. “He’s my flight instructor, nothing more.”

“Then there’s nothing between you.” She heaved a sigh. “I’m so glad. I was worried you’d pine for him. When Blake was at the university, I could hardly get through a day. Even now, when we’re together, it’s never enough. I always knew he was the one, and I was so afraid you felt that way about Jack.”

Darcy swirled Beattie’s veil, edged with satin rosettes that her mother had made. “Don’t worry about me. I have plenty to keep me occupied.” She placed the veil on Beattie’s head and spread it over her shoulders. “Gorgeous.”

Beatrice examined her reflection in the mirror. “Don’t misunderstand me, I hoped you’d fall in love. It’s wonderful and amazing and life-changing, but when you had to return, well, I worried.”

Darcy hugged her from behind. “Don’t. Flying comes first for me. There’s no room for romance.”

“I can’t imagine Jack believes that.”

“It’s true. If we were romantically involved, Jack would refuse to teach me. He said so. He claims women don’t have a strong enough constitution.”

“Maybe we don’t.”

“Beattie! I’m every bit as capable as a man, and so are you. I flew well. Jack said I did. But if we were involved…” she paused, mind whirling at the thought, “he could forbid me to fly. That’s why romance is impossible.”

“Isn’t romance better than flying?”

“Romance leads to marriage, and marriage to husbands making every decision.”

Beattie clucked her tongue. “What odd ideas you have. Marriage is a melding of two into one, a sacred union. If the woman follows her husband’s guidance, it’s only because both have agreed it’s the best course. You can’t possibly have two persons acting independently and call it a marriage. It would be like the lower half of the body deciding to walk somewhere that the upper half doesn’t want to go.”

Darcy shook her head. “If the lower half walks, the upper has no choice but to follow. I believe you’ve confirmed my point.” Beattie looked so shocked that Darcy had to laugh.

After a pause, Beatrice began to giggle, too. Then Darcy joined her until they both collapsed on the bed in a fit.

“Wait, wait, you’ll ruin your veil.” Darcy helped untangle the delicate fabric.

“I know this has been difficult,” Beattie said after they stopped giggling, “but think of all you’re learning.”

“Like how much I despise housework.”

“Like what you really want.”

Darcy had always known what she wanted, but she hadn’t foreseen how much she would feel for Jack. Unfortunately, she couldn’t have both. Flying had to come first. She’d remember that when she returned in April.

She plucked a white satin bow from the basket and plopped it on top of her head. “This is as close as I’m going to get to a bridal veil. Do you like it?”