Page 56 of Air Affair

“Well, I⁠—”

“I’ll just take those and put them in water. Such a sweet and thoughtful man, my Finn.” And before he could get a word in edgewise, she whisked them away and deposited them in a vase with some water in the middle of the dinner table.

“Did Bill invite you to join us for dinner, Hank? He might have given me some warning. But never mind that. You’re welcome at our table, as always. We can squeeze in an extra seat down by Adelaide. Oh, and I should introduce you to our new tenant. Hank, this is Miss Aurora Belmont. Miss Belmont, this is my son’s friend, Lieutenant Hank Hawley,” she said, turning from one to the other. “Miss Belmont only moved in yesterday, and she’s started teaching little Adelaide to speak French.”

At that moment, Adelaide came zooming in, playing airplanes with her brother.

“Adelaide, show our guest how good you are at French,” Mrs. O’Donnell called over the ruckus.

“Oooeeeeee,” squealed Adelaide as she ran by.

“That means yes in French,” Mrs. O’Donnell explained confidentially. “She’s very good at French. Learned three words on her first day of studying. Ah, here’s our Bill,” she said rushing in to smother her son in a hug.

Bill saw Hank and raised an eyebrow. Then he saw Rory, and his eyes went wide, both eyebrows nearly reaching his hairline.

“Bill, meet our new tenant, Miss Aurora Belmont,” Mrs. O’Donnell said, turning to tend to a pot on the stove. Bill’s jaw dropped as he looked at each of them in turn, eyes wide as saucers. “You should show her your medals from the war,” Mrs. O’Donnell said over her shoulder to Bill. “Take her downstairs and show her,” she ordered Bill. “Our Bill is very brave and did our country a great service,” she told Rory. She shooed the two of them out the door and grabbed Hank’s elbow.

Hank managed to give Bill a dirty look as he was on his way out. Bill shrugged helplessly.

“Hank, would you be a dear and help me put everything on the table?” She began handing Hank pots and trivets, which Hank dutifully laid out.

Mr. O’Donnell appeared in the doorway. “Oh, there you are, dear,” Mrs. O’Donnell said. “Thank you so much for sending those roses up with Hank. They’re just lovely.”

Taking in the table centerpiece, the pot of mashed potatoes Hank was holding, and the absence of Bill and Rory, Mr. O’Donnell gave Hank a sympathetic look. “I take it you’ll be joining us for dinner, Hank?” he asked, taking a pot of green beans from his wife and depositing it on the table.

“Yes, it seems I will. Your wife has kindly invited me to join.” Mrs. O’Donnell shoved a plate and silverware in his hand after he set down the potatoes.

“If you wouldn’t mind, set your own place,” Mrs. O’Donnell said. “I know you don’t stand on formality, Hank. Right down there next to Adelaide.”

Helpless to refuse, he set his place at the foot of the table, next to the cup painted with flowers that marked Adelaide’s spot.

“Dinner,” bellowed Mrs. O’Donnell. Her voice was truly deafening at full volume.

Up the stairs came Bill and Rory, followed by Bill’s sister, Mary, with little Connor and Adelaide in tow. Mrs. O’Donnell steered everyone to their assigned place. Mr. O’Donnell sat at the head of the table. To his left were Rory, Bill, Mary, and Connor. To his right were Mrs. O’Donnell, Adelaide, and Hank, who was about as far as he could be from Rory.

When they were all seated and served and done saying grace, Mrs. O’Donnell said, “Miss Belmont, you must tell us all about yourself. We’d love to get to know you better.”

Rory met Hank’s eye for a moment, and they exchanged a panicked look. Then she cleared her throat and said, “I grew up in the city. My father works in banking. My mother died in childbirth when I was born, so I never met her. My father remarried when I was twelve and my stepmother raised me as best she could. I was a bit of a wild child and spent far too much time getting into trouble with my brothers, but my stepmother tamed me.”

If Rory was tame, Hank was a monkey’s uncle.

“I went to college and studied history,” she continued, “and now I work in charity. I run the Pilots’ Benevolent Association and manage its endowment.”

“What’s an endowment?” asked Adelaide.

“It’s the money a charity uses to do its work,” Rory explained with a smile. It was a good explanation for a child. No need to go into the details about reserved funds and interest and all that nonsense.

“Hear that, Bill?” Mrs. O’Donnell said. “She does work to help the families of pilots. A very impressive young lady, isn’t she?”

Bill nodded, his mouth full of roasted chicken.

“When he’s not flying, our Bill has an excellent head for business, don’t you, dear?” Mrs. O’Donnell said.

Bill glanced at Hank and then at Rory, his eyes still wide as could be. “I helped my father rearrange his shop to bring in more business, and my mother thinks I’m a genius now,” he said to Rory, flushing red. Rory smiled at him.

That smile was supposed to be for Hank. This dinner was supposed to be alone with Hank. Everything about this was going wrong.

Clearing his throat, Hank interrupted all those friendly gazes, saying, “Bill, can you pass the green beans?”