"
"“I can come up anytime you want,” he said, sounding free and easy, and she thought about it for a minute. She wasn't sure if it was the right thing to do, or how her mother would feel about it, but she thought her father might be pleased, so she decided to risk it.
“Would you like to join us for Thanksgiving?” She held her breath after she asked him, and there was a brief pause at the other end. He sounded as surprised by her invitation as she had been to hear from him.
“Are you sure that would be all right with your parents?” He didn't want to intrude on them, or cause a problem.
But he had no plans to be with the Lindberghs or anyone else for Thanksgiving. He was used to spending it alone.
“I'm sure,” she said bravely, praying her mother wouldn't be too angry. But they had other guests, and even though he was shy, Joe would be an interesting addition to the dinner. “Would that work for you?”
“I'd like that very much. I could fly up on Thursday morning. What time do you eat dinner?”
She knew that guests had been invited for five in the afternoon, and they would be eating dinner at seven.
“The other guests are coming at five, but you can come earlier if you need to.” She didn't want him to have to hang around the airport all afternoon, waiting to come for dinner.
“Five will be perfect,” he said serenely. He would have come at six in the morning if she'd told him to. He didn't know why, but he was anxious to see her. After years of emotional solitude, he was deaf, dumb, and blind to his own feelings.
“Is it very formal?” he suddenly asked nervously. He didn't want to appear in a suit if everyone else would be wearing a tuxedo. And if he needed one, he would have to borrow one from Charles, and send it back to him.
“No, my father usually wears a dark suit, but he's pretty stuffy. You can wear whatever you've brought with you.”
“Great, I'll wear my flight suit,” he teased her, and she laughed.
“I'd like to see that,” she said, and meant it.
“Maybe we can arrange for a short flight for you and your father this weekend.”
“Just don't tell my mother. She'll choke on her turkey, and make you leave halfway through dinner.”
“I won't say a word. See you on Thursday.” He sounded remarkably relaxed as she said goodbye to him, but as they both hung up the phone, they each found that their palms were sweating. She still had to tell her mother he was coming for dinner.
