“I'll stay with you. Possibly permanently,” he grinned. “We may both be out of a job in about ten minutes.” But it was more than a job to her, he realized. For Cassie it was her marriage. But after Desmond's threats the day before, she wasn't sure if she had a marriage anymore, or if she'd ever had. Maybe Nick had been right about him all along, or maybe Desmond had just let the emotions of the moment get away from him, and by now he was sorry. Interestingly, he had not called Cassie once, at home, or at the hospital, since she'd left. She hadn't heard a thing from him in two days. And when she called him five minutes later from the hospital switchboard, Miss Fitzpatrick answered her with a tone of ice and went to get him.
He came on the line to her almost immediately, and she was sorry about the lack of privacy in the hospital lobby, but it couldn't be helped. She had to tell him as soon as possible, and she didn't want to go all the way to the airport to talk to him from her father's office.
“Where are you?” were his opening words.
“At the hospital in Good Hope. With my father.” As though he didn't remember. He did not ask her about his father-in-law, or how she was. For all he knew, her father was dead by then, but he didn't inquire about him. “Desmond, I'm sorry to have to do this.”
“Cassie, I'm not going to listen to what you're telling me,” he said in a tone of icy fury. “Remember what I said to you when you left, and remember that I meant it.” She paused only long enough to catch her breath, and remind herself that this was a man she had married four and a half months before. It was suddenly difficult to believe it. He was everything Nick had said he was, and wasn't.
“I remember everything you said perfectly,” she shouted at him across a poor connection. “And I seem to remember marrying you. Apparently, you've forgotten. There's more to life than world tours. I'm not just a machine, or a flyboy in a dress, or one of your employees. I'm a human being with a family and my father almost died two days ago. I'm not leaving him. I want you to postpone the tour for two or three months. I'll go in September or October. You figure out when. Make whatever adjustments you have to for the weather and the course. I'll do whatever you want. But I'm not going three days from now. They need me here. I'm not leaving.”
“You bitch,” he shouted at her, “you selfish little bitch! Do you know what I've put into this, not only in money, but in time and love and effort?
“I don't care what you call me, Desmond,” she shouted across the lobby, indifferent to who heard her anymore. “Postpone the trip, or cancel it. It's up to you. But I'm not going now. I'll fly anything you want in the fall, but I'm not going in three days. I'm staying with my father.”
“And Billy?” he asked furiously. He wanted to fire both of them, but he knew he couldn't.
“He's staying here with me, with my tawdry little family, at our embarrassing little airport. And I won't fly it for you next time, Desmond, without him. You've got us, if you want us. But later. Let me know what you decide. You know where to reach me.”
“I'll never forgive you for this, Cassie.”
“So I gather.” And then she couldn't help asking. “What exactly is it you're so angry about, Desmond, as long as I've agreed to do it later?”
‘The embarrassment, the postponement. Why should we have to put up with this childish garbage from you?”
“Because I could have gotten sick… because I'm human. That's it, why don't you just tell the press I'm sick or something.” She laughed shallowly, knowing that it was beyond impossible, at the moment. ‘tell them I'm pregnant.”
“You don't amuse me.”
