The Wedding Veil(63)
Cornelia had never quite been able to put it into words, but right now, at her birthday breakfast, feeling the weight of her twenty-five years, it occurred to her: What have I done with my life? Perhaps it wasn’t the papers writing about her that she minded. Maybe it was what they were writing about, what they had no choice to write about. They wrote of her outfits and parties because that was the fodder she gave them. Now that she was really, truly an adult, what was she going to do moving forward? Now was the time to take her place as a woman amid a cultural revolution.
Changing the subject, Edith asked, “Well, my girl, how does it feel, having your first birthday breakfast in the banquet hall as the true and rightful owner of Biltmore?”
Cornelia smiled and, on impulse, took a bite of pastry. Even though she wasn’t hungry, it was warm and sweet and flaky, and she thoroughly enjoyed the feel of it on her tongue.
“It’s quite thrilling,” she said, feeling cheered. “This is my purpose now, the preservation of this place that my son will call home.”
Cornelia knew that every new owner of anything comes into it with fresh eyes and bright ideas, and she hoped that some of hers would pay off. The estate was slightly more stable these days, but it was still far from self-sufficient. She would have her work cut out for her if she wanted to continue to sustain the home where she had lived and played since childhood. For the first time since her father died, she had the funds to do so. Cornelia felt up to the challenge.
Jack raised his orange juice glass, and Cornelia couldn’t help but smile. “To Cornelia,” he said, “new mistress of Biltmore.”
“Hear, hear!” Edith responded.
Cornelia raised her own glass. “To new adventures and making Daddy proud!”
As they clinked glasses, Cornelia had to hope that maybe now, maybe this, would be the thing to cure the lost and listless feeling that, for years, through her smiles and manners, grace and graciousness, had taken hold of her heart. If not, she’d keep searching until she found it. She had to; she must. On this, her twenty-fifth birthday, Cornelia felt more assured than ever that a life without passion wasn’t worth living at all.
BABS Lease on Life
I held up a pink tweed jacket and a blue one, debating which would go better with the skirt I had just packed. I figured Julia and I would go out to at least a couple nice dinners while we were in Asheville.
Dinners. I had been avoiding Miles since the dinner incident the week before. It wasn’t just that it was awkward; it was that, all of a sudden, accidentally bringing my daughters into the picture had made me realize how incredibly real this was. I was like a teenager again, diving headfirst into whatever felt good because it felt good. And now I had to back away, be an adult and think it through.
I chose the blue jacket, hung it beside the other clothes I was taking, and zipped my hanging bag. Who was that woman I had been those few days? Who did she think she was to attempt to move into a new phase of her life? My daughters certainly thought my behavior was outlandish and were asking me to separate myself from Miles.
They had scolded me like a child. “We’re only thinking of you,” Meredith said in a pleading voice across the table from me. When it got down to it, she tended to be sweeter than her twin. “We don’t want you to get up with some man who is going to take your money and run.”
I laughed in disbelief.
“That’s a thing, Mom,” Alice had chimed in.
“I know that’s a thing, Alice. But, for one, I would never get my money entangled with a man at my age, and for another, I have known Miles since I was in college. He neither wants nor needs my money.”
They shared a glance over the table. It was a glance that said, Poor Mother is senile. She thinks a man could be interested in her for herself at her age. It infuriated me, but despite my frustration, I chose the route of motherly compassion.
“Girls, look. I should have been honest with you about how difficult things have been for me without your father, how lonely I have been, how afraid.”
“But now Miles is here to make you feel safe,” Alice said sarcastically into her drink. I ignored her.
“Moving to Summer Acres has given me a new lease on life. I have people to eat with, things to do, a home that isn’t full of memories, both good and bad. I don’t wake up from night terrors about your father dead beside me. This is what I needed. It was the right choice for me.”
“Did you move here for Miles?” Alice asked. “Was Summer Acres a part of your plan to be together, to forget Daddy?”
She had pushed me one time too many. I stood up angrily from the table and walked around to her chair. “Don’t come back here until you can show your mother some respect,” I whispered so no one else would hear—although, heaven knows, most of them couldn’t have heard over the music even if I was shouting.
I walked out the door, Meredith on my heels. “She didn’t mean it, Mother.”
I waved for the valet to grab my golf cart. I just wanted to get out of there as quickly and nondramatically as possible.
“You know how she gets,” Meredith continued. “We just worry about you.”
I turned to her. “That’s just the thing. I don’t need you to worry about me. Your father was my great love, and I will ache for his loss every day. For her to insinuate that—”