by Davis, Mary
“What’s wrong?” Grandpa asked.
“I was just thinking about Pete.” She sighed. “Say, Grandpa, you knew Pete a long time. Tell me about his wife and child. How could he just leave them behind?”
Grandpa frowned. “I hadn’t seen little Pete in a few years so I wouldn’t know anything about a wife or nothing.”
She sat by the potbellied stove with Bill and Grandpa, sharing a pot of coffee.
“Even though I think what your father did was wrong, he did you a favor. You may not have found out about Pete’s wife and child until it was too late.”
And when exactly was too late? She’d already fallen in love.
“Let him go. The sooner you do, the sooner you can start living again.”
“How long did it take you to get over Grandma and start living again?”
Grandpa got a faraway look again. “I haven’t been alive for forty-five years.”
How sad.
“I never did get over Lilly. Maybe if I’d gotten to say good-bye or she had sent me away, I could have. She was the solid ground I needed to sink my roots into. Without her, I’ve just drifted through a meaningless existence like a dried-up leaf on the wind. I’ve met some nice folks along the way. But I could never stay put for long. I tried, though.”
Her grandpa had had such a sad, wasted life. Would she end up like him? Always pining for her first love. She walked out to the other building. Her Bleriot sat half covered in cotton fabric. Pete had been so eager to help her. The first person she could share her dream with. She grabbed an old pair of coveralls Bill had given her and pulled them on over her dress. The skirt would get wrinkled, but she didn’t care. She began covering the other wing.
❧
That evening back at home as she cleaned up after supper, Lizzie kept looking out the window until finally she saw headlights. Daddy had tried hard not to be a bother to her but had let her know how much he needed her. She opened the door and let Bill and Grandpa in before they knocked.
Daddy turned in his chair. “What’s he doing here?”
“I invited him.”
“Well, he’s not welcome in my house.” Daddy struggled to his feet and planted his wooden leg firmly on the floor.
She stood in front of Daddy. “You need to hear what he has to say. After what you did to Pete, it’s the least you can do for me.”
“That boy was no good and neither is he.” Daddy pointed at Grandpa. “I want him out of my house.”
She folded her arms. “If you throw him out before he says what he came for, then I’m leaving, too.”
Daddy eyed her to see if she was telling the truth. She’d decided if he was so unyielding as to not even let Grandpa have his say, whether he believed him or not, then she didn’t want to stay. Daddy frowned and sat back down.
Grandpa let Daddy read the copies of the letters from Lilly. Daddy handed them back. “Those prove nothing. Mrs. Cullen Finnegan could be anyone. Those could have been written by the barmaid at the local tavern for all I know.”
Grandpa handed Daddy Lilly’s Bible open to the center where the family genealogy was. “Right there.” Grandpa jabbed his finger on the page. “Cullen Andrew Finnegan and Lillian Rose Carter, Married July 8th, 1875.” Next to the entry was written Mrs. Cullen Finnegan with a smiling face.
“Grandpa, do you have the originals of Grandma’s letters with you?”
Grandpa pulled them out of his coat pocket and handed them to Lizzie. She opened one of the letters. “Look, the signatures are the same.”
Daddy scowled.
Bill stepped forward and handed Daddy an aged check. “Finn doesn’t know I still have this. Uncle Robert gave him a large check to dissolve the marriage and leave town and never speak to Lilly again.”
Lizzie leaned over to see the amount. “Five thousand dollars!” That was a fortune.
“Finn never cashed it. He told me that Lilly was worth a whole lot more to him than any amount of money.”
Daddy hobbled to his room with little effort and closed his door.
Grandpa went to the front door. “It’s up to him now what he chooses to believe.”
❧
“You’ve been working real hard on this contraption,” Grandpa said.
Lizzie climbed out from under her aeroplane where she was painting the last of the cotton with dope. “I have to go see Pete.”
“You’re actually going to try to fly this thing?”
“Sure.” There was no reason she shouldn’t.
Grandpa shook his head. “One bad idea after another.”
“It’ll fly. I have to see Pete.”
“That’s not a good idea. He has a wife and child.”
“I have to tell him that I know that jug of whiskey was put in his aeroplane by someone else and to see for myself that he has a wife. What if there was some mix-up?”
Grandpa shook his head. “Child, there was no mix-up.”
“You yourself said that if you could have said good-bye or Grandma had turned you away you could have let her go. I need to go say good-bye so I can let him go. At the very least, I have to give him his dog.” She picked up Fred. Fred preferred to stay around the aeroplane. “I think he misses his master.”
“You’re making a mistake. Let me take his dog back to him. I’ll give him an earful, too.”
“Thank you, Grandpa, but this is something I have to do.”
That night as Lizzie packed a small bag to take with her, Daddy came into her room.
“So you’re really going to go?”
“Don’t try to talk me out of it.”
“I’m sorry for the trouble I’ve caused. I never wanted to hurt you.”
She turned to face him. Did he really mean it? She could see the sorrow on his face. He held out some folded papers.
She took them. “What are these?”
“Just one more of my many mistakes. Lou gave me the first two. The other came in the mail.” Tears filled his eyes. “Come back to me, please.” He walked out.
She sat on the edge of her bed and unfolded the first sheet of paper:
Dear Lizzie,
Please don’t believe I’m guilty because I’m not. I don’t know how that bootleg whiskey got in Jenny. I’m sure overnight, doubts have crept into your mind, but I am innocent. Please believe that. If you would only come and see me, you would know that I’m telling the truth. I think you could always tell my fact from fiction.
Please come. I can’t wait to see you.
I love you.
Love,
Pete
Pete had written to her while he sat in jail? I believe you.
She read the next letter:
My dearest Lizzie,
I wish I could see you before I leave, but I have to go to Spokane to take care of some business. I will come back for you.
I love you and only you.
Love,
Pete
Business? Is that what he called his family?
She pulled the last letter out of the envelope. Daddy had opened it and obviously read it:
My Dearest Lizzie,
I was very disappointed that you did not come to see me, but I can understand you not wanting to go to the jail.
They hadn’t even told Pete that she had come, but they wouldn’t let her see him. Wouldn’t even give him the muffins she baked him.
You no doubt have heard about Agatha and Ruth.
Which one was his wife and which one his daughter?
I can’t explain it to you in a letter. It’s too complicated.
I would be at your side right now to tell you everything, but I’m sitting in a jail here in Spokane. Again, I’m innocent.
Please, please give me a chance to explain everything. Then if you want me to go away, I will. I don’t know when I’ll get out of here, but I’ll come as soon as I can.
I can’t stand not seeing you and talking to you. Please wait for me.
I love you.
All my love,
<
br /> Pete, your flyboy
How could he sign it that way when he had a wife? She was probably a perfectly likable, sweet girl who believed everything Pete had promised her. Or was there a good explanation and this was all a misunderstanding? Lizzie wanted to hope for Pete but couldn’t with the thought of Agatha and Ruth.
She would go and say good-bye, and let Pete live his life.
❧
Wednesday morning, Lizzie pulled up in front of the post office. “Daddy, I’ll leave the Ford at Bill’s Garage. Ivan can go over there and get it and take you home.”
Daddy just sat staring forward.
She was not going to let him talk her out of going.
“I know I don’t have a right to ask.”
Be strong. Say no. “But?”
“I wanted to have him over for supper tonight.”
“Him? You mean Grandpa?”
He nodded.
She sucked in a breath. “Really?” Had he accepted what Grandpa had said as the truth?
“I need you there. Will you stay one more night? I can’t do this without you.”
Did Daddy honestly want to reconcile with Grandpa? Or was this just an excuse to keep her here? Would there be another excuse tomorrow?
But if she could help bring Daddy and Grandpa together, how could she pass that up? She just didn’t know. She could tell Daddy she would do it when she returned.
“I promise it will only be this one night.”
She sighed. “Okay, but no excuses tomorrow. I will leave.”
Daddy smiled at her. “Will you invite him?”
She nodded. “What would you like me to make?”
“Anything you want. Maybe you could ask him what he’d like.” Daddy kissed her cheek and got out.
Please, Lord, don’t let him just be doing this to delay me.
She stopped by Bill’s and invited both men, though Grandpa was skeptical.
“Isn’t this why you came back here, to reconcile with your son?”
“He’s had years of Robert telling him I’m a bad person. I don’t know if a couple of letters can overcome that.”
“It’s a start. He’s willing to see you. I’m making your favorite supper.”
Grandpa brightened. “Really?”
“Just tell me what you want.”
❧
Lizzie moved the pan of fried chicken to the side of the stove to keep warm, then looked out the kitchen window again. Where were they? Please don’t let Grandpa have chickened out. Then she saw headlights in the distance. “They’re coming.”
Daddy got up from his chair and stood in the middle of the room, staring at the door. He jumped at the knock on the door.
She answered it, but only Bill stood on the porch. “Where’s Grandpa?”
“In the truck. He says he’s not coming in unless he knows for sure he’s welcome.”
“Of course he’s welcome,” she said. “I’ll go talk to him.” Daddy and Grandpa were too close to putting the past to rest for her to let this opportunity slip away.
“I’ll go.” Daddy thumped across the floor and out the door, leaving it open. He stood on the porch. “Are you going to make me risk my neck hobbling down these steps and drag you out of that old truck, old man?”
Lizzie cringed and heard a door open and shut. She hoped Grandpa didn’t take offense to Daddy’s gruffness.
“Is that your polite way of telling me I’m welcome in your house?”
“It’s cold out here, and Elizabeth fixed a fine supper.”
She smiled. It was worth staying an extra day, but she would take no excuses from Daddy tomorrow.
Thirteen
Thursday morning, Lizzie pulled up to the post office and before Daddy could say anything, she spoke, “No favors and no excuses. I’m leaving today.”
Daddy stared out the windshield. “There’s nothing I can say to change your mind?”
She shook her head adamantly.
“I just want you to know I don’t think you should do this. He’s not worth your time.”
“I’m doing this for Fred. He needs to be back with his owner.”
Daddy put a hand on hers. “Let me buy you a train ticket then.”
“I’m flying, Daddy. I’ll be back, maybe even tonight.”
“I hope so.” Daddy took her hand and kissed it. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
He climbed out and hobbled inside.
She wanted to stay just to please him, but she knew she could never get over Pete until she went to him and said good-bye and gave back Fred. She drove to Bill’s. Bill and Grandpa met her out at her aeroplane as she did a final safety check of the tires, gauges, and wires holding the wings straight.
“You’re a crazy fool,” Grandpa said.
“Is that your way of wishing me luck?”
“You’re going to need more than luck to get that thing off the ground.”
If it wouldn’t fly, she’d walk. “Luck will have nothing to do with my aeroplane taking off. It will be all God’s doing.” She spent half the night praying the Bleriot would fly; the other half thanking God for Daddy and Grandpa forgiving each other. The meal had been a little awkward with two men set in their ways, trying to compromise without yielding.
She tossed her small overnight bag in and hoisted Fred up. She’d made him a little coat harness and tied a rope to it to keep him from jumping out. Fred put his paws up on the side of the cockpit and wagged his stubby tail vigorously, happy to be in an aeroplane again. Bill and Grandpa helped her push it out to the dirt road behind the garage. It was wide enough and long enough. . .she hoped. It was the reason she’d asked Bill if she could build her aeroplane here. There was a ready-made runway.
She hugged the two old men good-bye and climbed aboard. She put on her leather helmet and goggles, got Fred situated on her lap, and took a deep breath. The engine roared to life and her stomach flopped like a fish tossed on the riverbank. She’d never flown alone before. She’d only piloted an aeroplane twice. With Pete’s help and guidance.
Lord, You’re going to have to help me this time.
This was Betty’s maiden voyage. She figured if Pete’s aero-plane was called Jenny, hers needed a name, too.
She pushed the throttle forward and picked up speed. She came to the end of the road and gave a little scream as the wheels left the ground. Betty sailed up and over the house and orchard beyond.
“Yippee!” She was airborne. Betty felt good and solid. Not as good as Jenny had, but she was a good machine. Lizzie hoped. Thank You, Lord. She circled back around over the garage and waved to Bill and Grandpa. Then she flew over the town, circled back twice, and came lower over the post office as Daddy came out. She waved. When she flew over the school, the children poured out of the building. Ivan led the pack waving and jumping. She waved back then pointed Betty east.
After half an hour of flying she noticed the engine sputter, then cough. That wasn’t right. She listened closely for a minute as it got worse, then choked to death. The propeller stopped.
Panic seized her.
She didn’t know what to do. Pete, what do I do? There was no open place to land. She was going to crash and die out here, and no one would even know.
What do I do? What do I do?! Tears filled her eyes. She couldn’t see and tried to wipe them away. “Help me, Lord.”
She blinked several times and thought she saw a small meadow. Was it big enough to land in? If so, would she be able to take off again if she could get Betty flight ready again? There was no place else. She had to land there. For better or for worse, she was going down. Fred was hunkered way down at her side as though he knew they were in for a rough landing. Poor dog was shaking.
The aeroplane wobbled as she descended sharply. “Hold together, Betty.” She did her best to steady the craft and line up for her landing. “Lord, please get us down safely and unharmed. All three of us.” She had to include Betty in that prayer, or she’d never get off the ground
again. She hit hard and bounced across the meadow like a wounded bird hopping around. Betty finally came to a stop.
She released a huge, captive breath. Fred raised his head. She picked him up and kissed his head. “We made it! Thank You, Lord!”
She climbed out and set Fred on the ground. “Okay, Betty, what’s the problem?” She needed to get into the engine and see why it quit on her. Pete’d had it running smoothly. She couldn’t imagine he overlooked something. Then she just stared at the aeroplane. She hadn’t brought one single tool. Stupid, stupid, stupid. A good pilot would know better than that. Always carry tools. Pete would know that.
She’d seen a town a couple of miles back, just before the engine started acting up. She’d get tools there. She took hold of the rope tied to Fred’s coat harness and headed for the railroad tracks. She hiked along the tracks for an hour before she came to the town and found the hardware store. She bought the tools she’d need and headed back.
❧
That same Thursday, a week after David’s visit, Merle visited Pete with good news. All charges were dropped. Pete was a free man.
“Agatha has named another man as the father of her children and is apparently going to marry him.”
“No.” David, don’t do this. “They aren’t married yet?”
“I think it’s set for the day after tomorrow.”
Then there was still time. He would talk sense into David one way or another. Or maybe she’d given up on him and named some other poor fool. Dare he hope the real father? When Pete stepped outside, David was standing across the street. David gave him a salute and walked away. Then it was David who was going to marry Agatha.
He ran to catch up. “David!”
David turned, a sad, broken man.
“You can’t marry Agatha. Don’t do it.”
“I can’t destroy my brother’s marriage. He’s done so much for me.” David looked so dejected.
“Then you believed me after all.”
David shook his head. “I spoke to my brother. I told him your accusations. He told me it was true and begged me not to tell Julia. Then I confronted Agatha. She said if I didn’t marry her, she would go straight to Julia.”
“So you bartered your happiness away for your brother’s and mine?”