Mattie paused for a moment at the mention of Alfred, barely keeping her anger from exploding. But the best way to honor her twin was a well-placed quip worthy of his quick wit.
“Then I guess you won’t be surprised when you fall victim to my sharp claws.” Mattie quietly tossed the words back at Crenshaw before she descended from the platform, her back rigid, a wide grin pasted on her face.
Immediately, her friends surrounded her as they spoke all at once.
“What an utter scoundrel!”
“The nerve of him to lie like that!”
“Do you mean to actually fly tomorrow?”
Carrie grabbed Mattie’s hand. “If you want to review your flight strategy tonight, I’ll stay up with you. I’ll give you whatever pointers I can.”
Vera laid her fingers on Mattie’s other arm. “I am so sorry, darling, that I couldn’t think of a way to intercede without making matters worse.”
“That’s okay,” Mattie said. “It was my battle to fight.”
She looked for Leo, and he stood at the edge of the Flying Flappers. Worry etched across his normally stoic mien. A new unease slipped through Mattie. Leo might have suppressed his protective instincts to allow her to handle the situation as she saw fit, but she had a feeling his support might not last.
“It’s clear that the annoying troll of a man doesn’t like you disrupting what he incorrectly believes is a preordained social order.” Aida drew Mattie’s attention back to the conversation. “He clearly has an agenda that he thinks will bring the world back intohissense of balance.”
“If you don’t want to fly tomorrow, don’t let Crenshaw force you into this,” Sadie said. “But if you do choose to get in that cockpit, know that we’ll all be cheering you on.”
“With gusto!” Lily added, giving a little bounce to punctuate her words.
“We know you can beat him in a fair race,” Alice said, “but he doesn’t seem willing to give you one.”
“If you want, I can make some calls, although itisdreadfully late,” Vera offered. “I’ll do my best to try to salvage the situation.”
“There’s no time.” Mattie rubbed the bridge of her nose and then stopped. If Crenshaw was watching her, she didn’t want to give the impression that he’d rattled her. “If I withdraw or protest, it will be usedas an example of why women shouldn’t fly: we don’t have the constitution for it; we’re too sensitive to assume the terrible risk; we’re meant for gentler pursuits.”
“Mattie is right.” Aida sighed. “When women step beyond the role of domesticity, it threatens to disrupt the established mores, and there will always be resistance.”
“He has put you in a difficult position,” Carrie agreed.
“There is no real choice,” Mattie said. “If I try to withdraw, I’ll have to say goodbye to any chance of securing a meeting with Fabin Flyer and probably my Rockol deal too. I won’t let Crenshaw ruin my reputation or the reputation of female aviators. I am going to fly tomorrow, and Iamgoing to win.”
“And you’ll do it with aplomb!” Lily clapped her hands. “Your flight will just be applesauce!”
Sadie slung her arm around Mattie’s shoulders. “We’ll be with you in spirit in that cockpit—all of us gals who dream of taking to the skies.”
A chorus of yeses filled the air as Mattie found herself enveloped in a group hug. The arms around her were all slender, but each of them carried undeniable strength. They bolstered her. She wasn’t alone in this fight. She had a whole phalanx of women rooting for her.
When they broke apart, Leo stepped close, his jaw clenched, his blue eyes dark with gathering clouds of worry. “We need to talk. Alone.”
Mattie dreaded the conversation, but she could not avoid it. She gave a crisp nod. “Fine, but not immediately. I don’t want Crenshaw to think that he chased me away.”
Leo jerked his head just as sharply as he shoved his fingers deep into his chestnut locks. Clearly, he didn’t want to wait, but he didn’t fight her decision.
Her friends all tried to distract Mattie, but she couldn’t focus on their funny stories. When half an hour had dragged by, she finally nodded to Leo. Together, they slipped from the Lost Tide Pool. Instead of heading toward one of their rooms in the inn above, they stepped outonto the hotel’s beachside veranda. A breeze fluttered over them, a cool respite from the stifling heat of the packed room.
Moonlight spilled onto the white sands, a bittersweet reminder of when she and Leo had raced hand in hand along the shore of Lake Michigan. This evening, she feared, would end much differently than that one.
“Should we walk near the waves?” she asked. “Then there’s no chance of someone overhearing us.”
Leo bobbed his head, his shoulders hunched as if against a bitter wind. He obviously dreaded this discussion as much as she did. She didn’t know if that realization was a balm or salt upon the rawness forming inside her. Perhaps both.
They didn’t entwine their fingers together or rush with headlong abandon. Instead, they trudged slowly through the thick, shifting sand. The water sounded different here. No longer did it lap, but it burst shoreward with a loud crescendo and then a whooshing retreat. The rhythmic sound, soothing yet whispering of alluring adventure, normally called to some instinctive part of Mattie. Tonight, she felt as if the sea just crashed against the hollowness forming inside her chest.
