Page 57 of Plane Passion

“Well, we’re all impressed, though none more so than Pritchard. He can’t say enough about you. I guess you really made an impression.”

Yes, she did, but not with her flying. Or at least she hadn’t thought so before talking to Turk. Maybe Ernie respected her as a pilot after all? Would he be upset when she broke his record, or would he be happy for her?

Christ, she missed him. But no good could come of their continuing their affair. It would be foolish in the extreme. She shouldn’t call. No, she definitely shouldn’t call.

“I’d like to hope that if I’m successful, I’ll pave the way for other women. There are a lot of talented female pilots out there looking for a chance to do something more than making spectacles of themselves as barnstormers.” That wasn’t giving too much away about her plan, was it?

Turk gave her a skeptical, indulgent look. “You don’t say. I’ve met few enough women who can handle an automobile, let alone an airplane.”

A flash of anger ruined her good mood.

“I think you’d be surprised what women are capable of,” she said, trying to keep her voice even.

“Well, you certainly surprised me,” Turk continued, oblivious. “I thought Katherine Stinson was one of a kind, and then you came along.”

Her jaw clenched, and she stabbed some carrots with unnecessary violence. “Katherine is certainly unique, but she’s far from the only woman out there flying an airplane. You should see what some of my barnstorming friends can do. I bet they could outfly anyone on the airmail team any day.”

Turk burst out laughing. “No wonder Pritchard likes you. You’re very funny, Miss Aldrich. I can just imagine this competition of yours—a bunch of ladies in frilly dresses climbing into airplanes and attempting loop-the-loops while they clutch their pearls. It sounds better than the circus!”

She saw red. It was all she could do to stop herself from smacking him upside the head.

Stand up and walk away, Mildred. You can’t afford to get into a confrontation. You’re already on thin ice with Mr. Dickson.

“Excuse me. There’s a phone call I need to make.”

Leaving a dollar on the table to cover her meal, she hurried off before he could say anything more.

She headed for one of the phone booths in the lobby and picked up the receiver.

“Hello, Operator? Can you connect me to Manhattan 89502, please?”

“Right away. That’ll be fifty-five cents for the first three minutes and fifteen cents a minute thereafter.”

Millie put the coins into the slot and heard the call connect.

“Beth Gilcrest speaking. Who may I ask is calling?”

“I hate men,” Millie grumbled into the phone.

“Millie?”

“Yes, of course it’s Millie. Who else could it be?” She twisted the phone cord as if wringing Turk’s neck, but it wasn’t really Turk she was angry with. It was all of them.

They all thought women pilots were a joke, an aberration, a circus act. What did it take to prove she was a serious pilot and that women could be just as successful as men in this field?

“Oh, dear. What’s got you riled up this time, darling?”

“Men. All of them. Worthless.”

“Now, now. Let’s start at the beginning. What happened that’s got you so worked up?”

Millie gave the phone cord a vicious yank. “I was having dinner with Turk Bird, and⁠—”

“Turk Bird? What kind of name is that?”

“He got nicknamed Turkey Bird for his wobbly landings, but it got shortened to Turk. His real name is Eddie Gardner, but that’s beside the point.”

“Go on.”