Eyes on the Stars

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Eyes on the Stars Page 19

by Lynn Ames

I’ve almost saved up enough money to buy that Singer sewing machine I’ve been eyeing. That ought to make the jobs go much quicker, not to mention save my fingers and eyesight.

  Oh, Jess. I do want to know you’re safe and that you’ve got someplace to go. Will you go back to upstate New York? I hope not. That place is too small and isolated for you. You need to be around people, darling. You spend too much time apart.

  Listen to me, still fussing after you as if I could have a say. Well, the baby just woke up, so I have to go.

  I love you with all my heart and soul. Merry Christmas, Jess.

  Your girl,

  Claudia

  Jessie grabbed her cane and hobbled to the bathroom. She dabbed at her eyes and splashed water on her face. The years had been kinder to her than they should have been, she thought. The face that stared back at her was almost free of wrinkles and age spots. Her eyes remained clear and alert. The cap of gray hair was thick and not too unruly.

  “You got off lucky, that’s for sure.” Jessie shook her head. She’d spent so much of her life defying the odds—taking unnecessary risks, daring God to take her. There was nothing He could do that would be worse than leaving her to live without her Claudia.

  There was so much she wanted to forget, so much she chose not to examine too closely. Were it not for Claudia’s letters, Jessie gladly would have left the past alone altogether. But this was Claudia—her Claudia—and for her, Jessie would walk through fire still, or revisit a life of which she was not proud.

  Jessie considered the ten years after the WASPs were disbanded the lost decade. Apart from resurrecting her flying taxi service, she saw no one socially, made no friends, rarely went into town except to pick up groceries, and became so reclusive that she missed the McCarthy hearings and the Communist witch hunt altogether. It was uncanny that, even from so far away, Claudia knew what was good for Jessie. “You were so right, Claude. I never should have stayed alone for so long. I forgot what it was like to be in society.”

  It might have gone on that way forever, had it not been for a chance encounter with a woman whose car broke down on the side of the road when Jessie was on her way to the Lake Placid air field. It was August, 1954.

  “Thank you for stopping.”

  “What’s the problem?”

  “I’m not sure. It just stalled and won’t start again.”

  Jessie assessed the woman. She wore an expensive-looking dress and more jewelry than Jessie could ever remember seeing on one woman in one place. “You’re not from around here.”

  “No. New York City. My husband came up here to buy a piece of property. I hate listening to men talk business, so I thought I’d see a little of the countryside.”

  “Doesn’t look like you’ll be seeing much of anything until your car gets fixed.” The woman pouted, and it reminded Jessie of Claudia. It amazed her how much that could still hurt.

  “What am I going to do?”

  Jessie sighed. “Get in.”

  “I’m sorry?”

  “Get in my truck. I’ll give you a ride into town, and we’ll get Charlie, the mechanic at the garage, to come take a look at your car.”

  “That’s awfully nice of you…”

  “Jessie.”

  “Jessie. I’m Regina.”

  That already was more information than Jessie wanted to know. She had an uneasy feeling, the kind of gut reaction that told her Regina was trouble. She was pretty, obviously rich, and had the kind of smile that no doubt made men melt. While it didn’t have quite the same effect on Jessie, she felt a tingling sensation in parts of her body she had long since pronounced dead.

  Jessie pulled back onto the road.

  “So, Jessie.” She could feel Regina watching her. “What is it you do for a living?”

  “I’m a pilot.”

  “A pilot? How fascinating.”

  “Not really.”

  “Well, it is to me.”

  Jessie counted. The silence lasted all of twenty-two seconds.

  “What kind of pilot?”

  “A good one.”

  Regina laughed. “And modest too. That’s not what I meant.”

  “I know.”

  “The strong, silent type, eh? I like that.”

  Now Jessie knew she was in trouble. “I fly an air taxi. People hire me who want to sightsee or want to get from here to there and don’t want to drive.”

  “That’s much better. Thank you. For a second, I thought I was going to have to torture the information out of you.”

  “Funny, you don’t strike me as the violent type.”

  “Guess you never know about people, do you?”

  “Guess not. We’re here.” Jessie pulled into the gas station. She came around and opened the door for Regina and helped her out.

  “Ooh. Such a gentlewoman. Why, thank you.”

  Jessie walked toward the garage without answering. “Hey Charlie. Look lively. Got a fancy woman here who needs your help.”

  “Hey, Jessie.” Charlie wiped his greasy hands on a rag and followed her out. “What’s the problem?”

  “Her car broke down about eight miles down the road. Looks like it overheated.”

  Charlie frowned. “I can go take a look, but it’ll be a little while. Gotta fix old Paul’s car first. You know how he is. Grumpy old cuss.”

  “Yeah, I know.”

  “Hello,” Charlie said, as he got a look at Regina. “Isn’t everyday a dame like that waltzes into my garage.”

  “Easy, Romeo. She didn’t walk in, she came in my truck. And she has a rich husband.”

  Charlie sighed. “All the good ones are taken.” He walked over to Regina and doffed his cap. “Hello, ma’am. Jessie here tells me your car needs some work.”

  “Yes, can you help me?”

  “Yep. I sure can. But it will probably be a couple hours before I can get away from here.”

  “Oh. Guess I’ll have to find something to do for a while, huh?” Jessie noted that Regina hardly looked crestfallen. “Maybe Jessie would be kind enough to keep me company?” She batted her eyelashes.

  “I have work to do,” Jessie muttered.

  “I understand. I certainly wouldn’t want you to lose any business on account of me. How about if I pay you to show me the sights?”

  Jessie frowned. Regina was definitely trouble. Then again, she could use the money, and she didn’t have any flights booked this morning. “All right. Let’s go.”

  Regina clapped her hands in delight.

  “Sorry, Charlie.” Jessie winked at him. “I’ll drop her back off around lunchtime.”

  “Wish I was the one showing her the sights.” He chucked Jessie on the shoulder. “Have fun.”

  Jessie strapped Regina in, ran an instrument check, and asked the tower for clearance to take off. When they were airborne, she turned to Regina. “What do you want to see?” Regina was staring at her in that same disconcerting way. Jessie tried hard not to squirm under the scrutiny.

  “Show me someplace private. Someplace you don’t take anyone else.”

  Jessie swallowed hard as the tingling started again. As Claudia would surely attest, Jessie wasn’t always swift on the uptake, but she would’ve had to be dead not to recognize the suggestion in the tone and timbre of Regina’s voice. It had been eleven years since Claudia left. In all that time, Jessie hadn’t so much as looked at another woman.

  “Won’t your husband be missing you?”

  “Chad?” Regina threw her head back and laughed. “The only thing he ever misses is his money. He doesn’t care what I do, as long as I’m discreet.” Regina reached over and ran a long, painted fingernail along the length of Jessie’s thigh.

  Moisture pooled between Jessie’s legs, and she tried to ignore the thrum of desire that pulsed through her. She knew this was a bad idea, knew she should turn the plane around and take Regina back to the garage to wait for Charlie to fix her car. But that’s not what her body wanted, and Claudia was never coming back. She blew out an e
xplosive breath. “Hang on.”

  Jessie flew them to Burlington, Vermont, and parked the plane. Just down the street from the airport was a quaint little inn where she sometimes stayed overnight when she was too tired to fly home. She told Regina to stay out of sight while she went to the reservation desk.

  “Hey, Charlotte.”

  “Early in the day for you, Jessie, isn’t it?”

  “Yeah. I didn’t sleep well last night, and I’ve got a few hours before I need to be back. I thought I’d get a room and catch some shuteye for a bit. Doesn’t pay to fly tired.”

  “Sure. I don’t want you having an accident on my conscience. Room twelve is free. It’s all yours.”

  “Thanks, Charlotte.” Jessie took the key and walked away. When Charlotte turned her back to talk to someone in the office, Jessie hustled outside.

  “Ready, sugar?” Regina asked.

  Jessie backed up as if she’d been shot. Her breath stalled in her chest. “What did you say?”

  “I said—”

  “Never mind. Don’t ever call me that again.” Jessie rubbed her hand over her heart. “Ever!”

  “Okay,” Regina said, holding up her hands. “I promise. I didn’t mean anything by it.”

  Jessie thought about running and never looking back. Then she glanced at Regina again. It was clear she had no idea what she’d done wrong. It’s not her fault. Eleven years later, Jessie missed Claudia as much as she had when she left. Regina is not Claudia. Eleven years is a long time. After today, you’ll never see this woman again. Jessie convinced herself that she could do this. “Room twelve, down the hall and to the left. You take the key and go first. I’ll follow you in a minute or two.”

  Maybe if she shut her eyes tightly enough, she could imagine it was Claudia she was making love to. Or maybe, for just a few minutes, she could lose herself and forget. Either way, it was time to move on. Jessie counted to one hundred and walked down the hall.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  “Yeah, Claude. I knew I shouldn’t have done that. Oh, that woman was more than attractive enough, and it was obvious I wasn’t the first girl she’d ever lured into a tryst. But, even after eleven years, I wasn’t ready to take that step with anyone except you.”

  Afterward, Jessie remembered, she’d cried for days. “It felt like I betrayed you, Claude. Like I turned my back on what we had. What I did with Regina in that room had nothing to do with love and everything to do with scratching an itch, not to mention the fact that she used me. I was so ashamed.”

  Jessie watched the sun as it dipped below the horizon outside her hotel room window. Over the years there’d been too many women. None of them filled the empty spot in the center of Jessie’s heart. “All this time, sweetheart, it’s only ever been you.”

  What did Natalie say? Didn’t she say her mother never even had been on a date? Was that just a child’s perception? If Matt really never came back into the picture, was it possible that there had been no one else in Claudia’s life? Had she remained faithful to Jessie all these years?

  Jessie fingered the packets of letters. Did she really want to know? She answered her own question by reluctantly reaching back into the box. She might not want to know, but she desperately needed to know.

  August 10, 1945

  My Dearest Darling Jess,

  The war is over! A B-29 dropped the atomic bomb on a Japanese city. Can you believe it? I don’t suppose you got to fly one of them.

  I’m so torn. Naturally, I’m ecstatic that we’ve won and that our troops will be coming home. On the other hand, I’m jumpy as a cat. I know it’s silly to worry. After all, Matt doesn’t even know I was pregnant, doesn’t know that I’ve got a new last name, and has no idea where to find me. Still, I have nightmares that he might try, and I awake drenched in sweat.

  I suppose I could do some snooping to try to find out where he is, but I don’t want to set off any alarm bells. Who knows? Maybe he died in combat or maybe he’s found some other girl by now. I hope so.

  I give myself pep talks. I remind myself, dear Jess, that you and I are the only ones who know that Matt is Natalie’s father. That’s a secret I will take to the grave, and I can’t imagine you’re anxious to blab that, either.

  Oh, dear. Speaking of Natalie, she’s just awoken from her nap and is looking for her mama. I wish you could see her, love. She’s a got a gorgeous mop of curly hair, blue-blue eyes, and the cutest dimple on her cheek. If you could pick her up and hold her, darling, I know you’d fall instantly and irrevocably in love with her, as I have. Children are so innocent.

  That’s all for now. Wherever you are, sugar, know that I love and miss you more than ever.

  Your girl,

  Claudia

  “Well,” Jessie put the letter aside and searched for another from a different year, “I guess that puts one question mark to rest. You really didn’t have any intention of marrying Matt.” All these years later, it still niggled Jessie. The Claudia she knew wasn’t likely to make a casual decision to have sex with anyone. So, if she wasn’t interested in Matt as husband material, why had she agreed to let him bed her?

  September 5, 1950

  My Dearest Darling Jess,

  I don’t know who cried harder at taking our darling Natalie to school for the very first time today. I think it was probably equally traumatic for both of us.

  She wore a beautiful yellow dress that I made for her with my own hands—that is, the Singer and I made it for her. It’s amazing how much faster I can get outfits done now that I don’t have to sew them by hand. I laugh at myself sometimes when I think that I’ve got three loves in my life—you, Natalie, and my sewing machine.

  I went over to see Mrs. Rourke after I dropped Natalie off. It’s so nice that I was able to get us our own place within walking distance. Natalie so loves her “Rookie,” as she calls Mrs. Rourke. When she was younger, she couldn’t pronounce Rourke, so Rookie was as close as she could come. It’s endearing, really. And Mrs. Rourke loves Natalie right back, as if she were her own. Sometimes, she’ll watch Natalie for me so I can have some time to myself. Not that I’m doing anything with that time, but it is nice to know I don’t have to be on “mom watch” every second.

  Mrs. Rourke keeps trying to get me to go out more and socialize.

  “A lovely young woman such as yourself, all alone in the world without a man to support you and that adorable child. It’s not right, I tell you.”

  “I’m fine, Mrs. Rourke. Natalie and the sewing keeps me plenty busy, and I can always come over and talk to you.”

  “It’s not the same, and you know it. You’re barely scraping by. You need a good, strong man in your life. Someone to love you and provide for you the way my Arthur does me.”

  “Change the topic, please.”

  Mrs. Rourke glared at Claudia. “All right. It’s time for you to spread your wings.”

  “Mrs. Rou—”

  “Ah, ah. Let me finish. You’re the best seamstress I’ve ever seen. It’s a waste for you to sit at home creating beautiful clothing for people who can’t pay you what your work is worth.”

  “Thank you for the compliment, Mrs. Rourke, but I hardly think—”

  “Good Lord in Heaven, girl. Are you ever going to let me finish a thought?” Mrs. Rourke gave Claudia “that” look, the one that made even her older children stop dead in their tracks.

  “Sorry, ma’am.”

  “As well you should be. I’ve made some inquiries on your behalf. Showed some of your work to a friend of mine who has some connections in Hollywood.”

  “You…” Claudia opened her mouth and closed it again.

  “That’s right. Don’t look so shocked.” Mrs. Rourke puffed herself up. “I’ve got friends in important places.”

  Claudia shouldn’t have been surprised. Mrs. Rourke was a social butterfly who seemed to know everyone’s business. “I didn’t mean to imply that you wouldn’t know people, it just surprises me that you would spend time talking about m
e.”

  “Well, of course, dear. I love you as if you were my own. I want to make sure you have the life you should, that’s all. Anyway, my friend loved your work. She showed it to her friend, who is working over at one of the big studios.”

  “No kidding?”

  “No kidding. And that’s not all.”

  “It’s not?” Claudia couldn’t believe it. Someone in the movies had seen one of her dresses. Or maybe it was a suit?

  “Nope. You have an appointment tomorrow morning to see the head costume designer at Twentieth Century Fox.”

  “T-tomorrow?”

  “That’s right.” Mrs. Rourke looked very satisfied with herself.

  “But what would I wear? What will I say? Should I take samples with me?”

  “Calm down, dear. I’ll help you pick out an outfit. You’ll tell them how much experience you have and that you’ve been designing clothes from scratch for a regular clientele for years. Then you’ll show them some of your designs and some of your craftsmanship and they’ll hire you on the spot.”

  “But my designs are nothing more than pencil drawings on pieces of scrap paper.”

  Mrs. Rourke patted her hand. “That’ll be fine, I’m sure. They just need to see what you’re capable of. Now come on, let’s go over to your place and pick out something smashing for you to wear.”

  Well, Jess, darling. You won’t believe it. I got the job! Me, designing costumes for big movie stars. Can you imagine? You know how much I love the pictures. The first movie I’ll be working on is a film coming out in the next year or so, called Monkey Business. Wait until you hear who’s in the cast! It stars Cary Grant, Ginger Rogers, Charles Coburn, and Marilyn Monroe. Oh, sugar. Me, designing dresses for Ginger Rogers and Marilyn Monroe. And maybe a suit for Cary Grant. He’s so elegant!

  It’s a little nerve-wracking. Not only that, but I’m going to have to hustle in order to drop Natalie off at school on time, get to the studio, and be back at school to pick her up.

 

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