“Cousins,” she confirmed. “I’m not sure they spoke to my grandmother once she started baking. ‘Commerce’ was very poorly viewed then, and wasn’t considered an option for women, or even for most men in her world.”
“That’s what I mean, and what I love about it,” Zack said, his eyes alight with interest, and Kait smiled, thinking of her grandmother. She had been a small, elegant, dignified, erect woman who was every bit a grande dame for most of her life, and wore beautiful hats when she went to her office. She stopped doing the baking herself after the first few years, although she created the recipes or found them in old European cookbooks.
It was five minutes to midnight by then and the time had flown, talking to each other. Sam began the countdown as they left the table and wandered back to the living room.
“Happy New Year!” Sam shouted, and pulled his wife into his arms to give her a kiss to start the new year. The other guests did the same with their partners, and Zack looked at Kait sympathetically. It was an awkward position for them to be in, chatting with a stranger at midnight on New Year’s Eve, while everyone else embraced.
“I’d kiss you, but you might slap me,” he said playfully. And he didn’t look as though he wanted to. But he had enjoyed talking to her. “Happy New Year, Kait,” he said softly. “I hope you have someone more exciting to spend it with next year,” he said ruefully, and she laughed.
“This was exciting enough. Happy New Year, Zack,” she said as he took out his wallet, extracted a business card, and handed it to her.
“I know this is incredibly rude at a dinner party. But if you ever decide to write something for dramatic purposes about your grandmother, or a woman like her, give me a call. We can always use stories like that.” He sounded as though he meant it, and she slipped his card into her bag.
“I don’t think I could write a screenplay. At least I never have. It’s not something I’m familiar with.”
“You don’t have to. All you have to write is the bible. The producer would find a screenwriter for you and you could work together. You’d just have to write the overview, and some ideas for thirteen episodes if you sell it to a major network, and anywhere from six to twenty on cable. They make their own rules. And then pray they come back for more. I hope you do write something, Kait. You know enough about people, and women, from the column you write, to come up with some great ideas and story lines. I love what you have to say, because it’s sensible and smart, real and direct. There’s nothing phony about it. You write things anyone can relate to, even a man. I learned some things about women reading your column.” She could tell that he was serious, and she was touched.
“So, have you two come up with a hit TV series?” Sam asked, when he walked up to them. He had noticed that they had talked animatedly all through dinner, and he wondered if Zack was going to ask her out. Sam knew Kait wasn’t his usual profile. Zack liked younger women, mostly actresses, and sometimes the stars in his shows. But Kait was beautiful and intelligent, and would have made more sense than the starlets he normally went out with. But Sam couldn’t tell if there was chemistry between them or not. Kait was too polite to show it, and Zack kept his game to himself and always had, even in college. He was one of the few guys Sam knew who didn’t brag about his conquests. He could have, but it wasn’t his style.
“We’re working on it,” was all Zack said to his former roommate, as Kait drifted away to talk to her hostess and the other guests. “Interesting woman. Fascinating background,” Zack commented and then wandered away himself.
Zack came to say good night to Kait just before he left. He was flying back to L.A. the next day on an early flight. He reminded Kait to call him if she had any ideas, but she doubted she would. She couldn’t imagine what she could think of for a bible for a TV show. And as she had said to Zack, she wanted to save her grandmother’s story to write her biography one day. She would be an inspiration even to modern women, and had been decades ahead of her time, by sheer necessity, if nothing else.
Kait left a little while later, and was glad she had come. She had enjoyed meeting Zack and talking to him. She was sure they would never meet again, there was no crossover between their worlds, but it was fun to meet new and different people, and suddenly his Hollywood aura was of no importance. Clearly he had talent, or a good eye for what worked, with so many successes on TV. His many victories were proof of that.
“What did you think of Zack?” Jessica asked her once Kait had her coat on and was about to leave. She looked at Kait meaningfully, who ignored the innuendo and answered her sincerely.
“He’s terrific to talk to, and was a great dinner partner. Thank you for seating him next to me,” she said politely, but meant it.
“That’s it? You didn’t find him fatally sexy?”
“I’m sure I’m not his type,” she said simply, and he wasn’t hers either. He was pure L.A., part of the entertainment world, and could have any star he wanted at his feet, Kait was sure. And he seemed like the kind of man who’d prefer very young, sexy women, since he had easy access to them.
“Well, I’m glad you liked him,” Jessica said as the other guests began to leave and Kait slipped out. She could see there was a long wait for an Uber, so she asked the doorman to get her a cab. She stood outside for a few minutes, waiting for him to return with one, and by the time he got back five minutes later, her face, ears, and hands were numb. She slid in gratefully and gave the driver her address uptown. He was relieved to find her sober and almost hadn’t stopped for her on his way back to the garage. New Year’s Eve was a hard night to drive.
“Happy New Year,” the driver said in a heavy Indian accent. He was wearing a bright turquoise turban, and Kait smiled when she saw it. It had been a nice evening, much more so than she had expected, thanks to Zack, and she was flattered that he thought she should write a bible for a show. And it pleased her that he liked her blog and followed her on Twitter. She put a lot of time and thought into what she wrote. She loved helping people, but had no instant inspiration for a TV series. She didn’t think she had anything more in her than “Tell Kait.” She didn’t want to do anything more exotic than that, even if she enjoyed what she watched on TV herself.
And as the perfect end to the evening, she put on a DVD from the last season of Downton Abbey and watched the final Christmas special on her laptop when she got home. She knew she’d be up late if she did, but she could sleep in the next morning. And she was going back to the magazine the day after. Her Christmas break was over. It had been a nice one, and she’d caught up on her work. She was starting the new year fresh, with a clean slate. It was a good feeling, and as the theme music of the show came on, she sank back onto the mountain of pillows on her bed and settled in to enjoy it. Despite her reservations, it had been a very nice New Year’s Eve after all, and she was glad she’d gone. The episode she’d chosen of Downton Abbey was one of her favorites. And before it was over, she had fallen fast asleep as the new year began.
Chapter 4
When Kait woke up on New Year’s morning, the DVD had finished, her laptop battery had run out, and the lights were on. She got up to plug her computer into the charger, looked out her window, and saw that it was snowing heavily outside, and almost everything had come to a standstill. A few buses were running, and there were one or two cabs moving slowly. The snow was deep.
She went to make herself a cup of coffee, and sat down at the new computer that had been a gift from Stephanie. She still wasn’t totally at ease with it, it had more options and fancy frills than her old one, but she loved it. She wondered what to do for the rest of the day. She was caught up on the letters she had to answer for the column, her tweets, and her blog, and she didn’t want to go out in heavy weather. She thought of Tommy and his family in the Bahamas, and Stephanie in Montana with Frank. She wondered where Candace was and what she was doing, and she sat staring at the blank screen for a while, an
d suddenly had an idea. It was just a sliver of a thought in her mind, but she had a sudden urge to play with it and see where it went. She had nothing else to do that day.
The story begins in 1940, before America has entered World War II. Lochlan Wilder is roughly forty years old and has a fascination with old planes and collects them. He can fly anything with wings, and has spent every penny he can lay hands on to build his collection. He is passionate about flying and anything to do with aviation. He is a mechanic and a pilot, has restored many planes, and his wife, Anne, is supportive of him, although all the money he could find has gone into his planes. He inherited some money and made some, and spent it all on his collection. Their house is mortgaged to the hilt. Only Anne understands how much flying means to him. They have four children in their teens. Two of them have caught the flying bug from him. He’s a handsome, sexy, wild man, and Anne is deeply in love with him. He has taught Anne to fly too, and she’s a good pilot, although she doesn’t love it as he does.
Anne frequently defends him to her stern mother, Hannabel, who thinks him an irresponsible fool, and says so every chance she gets. She doesn’t understand him and doesn’t want to.
Their oldest son, Bill, is eighteen. His father taught him to fly and to work on the engines. Bill is solid, serious, and has his pilot’s license.
But it is Maggie, their second child, who shares her father’s skill for flying and love of old airplanes. She is seventeen and doesn’t have her license yet, but he has taken her up with him, and she can fly everything they’ve got. She has her father’s gift and wishes she could be a pilot one day. He has taught her to do aerobatics, and she’s something of a daredevil. She has more guts than her brother in the cockpit. Bill is steady and sure. Maggie is more fiery than her brothers and more like her father.
Anne and Loch have two younger children. Greg has no interest in flying, and is constantly up to mischief in some form at fifteen. He has big dreams, none of which include planes. And their youngest child is Chrystal, a striking beauty who is boy crazy at fourteen, and also could care less about planes.
Kait was writing furiously as the story unfolded in her head.
As the war worsens in Europe, shortly after the story begins, Loch tells Anne that he wants to go to England and volunteer to fly with the Royal Air Force. They are taking American volunteers, and he knows a few other pilots who have gone. He has already made the decision and sold two of his planes to leave Anne enough money to manage without him. He feels compelled to go, and Anne knows him too well to try and stop him. Anne agrees to let him go out of love and respect for him. They tell the kids. Bill and Maggie think he’s a hero. Hannabel is horrified at how he can leave his wife and family.
Loch leaves for England. Anne is left to manage without him and deal with her kids. She is a strong, quiet woman who believes in her husband, although she is afraid for him. There is a touching scene between them before he leaves. And a flood of criticism from Anne’s mother once he’s gone.
Loch has left them enough money to get by, although it will be tight. Anne considers getting a job for extra money, and then has an idea. They’re going to put Loch’s planes to good use. They can fly people short distances, like a flying taxi service. Both she and Bill are capable of it. They can also give flying lessons. Bill is determined to help his mother. She calls their business Wilder Aircraft and they put up a sign offering to charter their planes and give lessons. Maggie wants to help too but doesn’t have her license yet. Hannabel, Anne’s mother, is constantly furious at Loch running off to England and leaving his family. And she thinks Anne’s plan to make some extra money is a crazy idea. She says Anne should sell all Loch’s planes while he’s gone, to give them more money to live on, and it would serve him right for going off and leaving them.
Bill tries to help his mother control his younger brother, which fifteen-year-old Greg resents. He is constantly in some form of minor trouble or other, especially in school. And Chrystal is equally hard to manage, always sneaking off to go out with some boy. Bill tries to help, but the younger two are difficult. And at seventeen all Maggie cares about are planes. She can’t wait to get her license.
The business takes off slowly, but starts to work. A few people sign up for lessons. Some local businessmen charter their planes to get to meetings in other towns. And Anne manages the business well, probably better than her husband would have. She’s far more practical than Loch. They’re making enough money to add to what Loch left them, and it helps Anne provide for them. But when there are no lessons or charters, things are still tight. Her mother tells her again to sell some or all of Loch’s planes, but she won’t out of respect for him. It would break his heart. Hannabel doesn’t care, and thinks he deserves it for running off. Some of the planes are very special and rare, and Maggie can fly them all. She goes up with her brother as she used to with her father. She lives to fly, just as her father does.
While Loch is flying for the British in the RAF, Anne is handling everything at home efficiently and bravely. Her little business gets solid over the next year, and does well. And then Pearl Harbor hits. The first peacetime draft in history had begun a year before, in September 1940, but Bill had not been drafted.
After Pearl Harbor, Loch comes home from England to enlist with the American flying forces. Loch spends some time with each of his children before he has to leave again, and he urges younger son Greg to behave. There is a tender parting with Anne, again, and he is proud of how she has run the business and saved his planes. Maggie is eighteen now and gets her pilot’s license. Bill is drafted, and Maggie helps her mother give lessons and fly charters. Both Loch and Bill leave for war. Bill goes to flight training in the military. Anne and Maggie run the business, while Greg and Chrystal continue to misbehave, with no male figure now to help control them. Chrystal looks older than her fifteen years and is trouble. Men are drawn to her like moths to flame and she encourages them shamelessly, and Anne tries to stop her with no success.
* * *
—
As she wrote the words, Kait remembered learning about the WASPs in the past, and looked them up on the internet, and was excited about what she found. She read avidly, fascinated by the history of a courageous group of women who had received little acknowledgment for their heroic acts in World War II. The Women Airforce Service Pilots program was created in 1942, after Pearl Harbor, to enlist the help of female civilian pilots. After training in Texas, they towed drones and targets with live ammunition for gunnery practice, tested and repaired aircraft, served as instructors, transported cargo to embarkation points, and ferried and delivered planes to other locations. They often flew at night and were noncombat pilots, but flew dangerous missions. They remained civilians and were used for purposes that would free up male military pilots for combat.
They flew every type of aircraft from PT-17 and AT-6 trainers, the fastest attack planes like the A-24 and A-26, and medium and heavy bombers, which were B-25s and B-17s. They were never officially part of the military, received no benefits or honors, flew when they were called upon to do so, and were paid $250 a month.
Once the WASP program was established, twenty-five thousand female pilots applied to help the war effort, and 1,830 were accepted. Other than their flying credentials, they had to be twenty-one years of age or older, and five feet and one-half inch tall. They flew their missions heroically. Thirty-eight WASP pilots were killed in the course of their assignments. And in December 1944, after nearly three years of flying, the WASPs were no longer needed and the program was disbanded. The records of their missions were sealed for more than thirty years. In 1977, Congress voted to make the surviving WASPs eligible for veterans’ benefits, although they had been civilians and never enlisted in the armed forces. And at last in 2010, sixty-eight years after they had served their country, the remaining WASPs, fewer than three hundred by then, were awarded a Congressional Gold Medal in an official ceremony in Washing
ton, D.C. It was the first time that most people had heard of the civilian women pilots who had courageously served their country in World War II.
Kait nearly stood up and cheered as she read about them with tears in her eyes, and wove what she had learned about the WASPs on the internet into her story. Anne Wilder would have been just the kind of woman to sign up for the WASPs. It was perfect. Even the story of their uniforms was terrific. The uniforms they wore initially were used airplane mechanics’ overalls, the smallest size being a men’s forty-four long. They were later required to buy tan slacks and white blouses for dress occasions. In 1943, a year after they started, the director of the WASPs, Jacqueline Cochran, had Bergdorf Goodman design a wool uniform in “air force blue.” The new outfit was approved by two air force generals and it became the official WASP uniform. It had a skirt, a belted jacket, a white shirt, a black tie, the air force emblem, and the WASP emblem on the jacket, with a beret and black purse.
At the same time, they were issued new flying uniforms too, in the same air force Santiago blue with an Eisenhower jacket, slacks, a blue cotton shirt, and a black tie, with a baseball-style cap.
Cochran had the clothes fitted by Neiman Marcus, and the WASPs were very proud of their new uniforms. They’d come a long way from used overalls in men’s sizes!
Kait went on writing the story for the bible then.
Anne is desperately worried about her husband and son in the war. And her mother is quieter than before, concerned about her grandson. She is less critical of Loch now too. But generally, Hannabel is tough as nails.
The Cast Page 5