Jack smiled down at her. “I believe we live like royalty now.”
Cornelia sighed. “You know what I mean, Jack. No panic about property taxes coming up again. No constant roof maintenance or leaks or peeling wallpaper. No moving money around to finance another disaster.”
“I get it, but the woman I met was dead set on staying at Biltmore forever.”
“The woman you met was a naive child!” Cornelia snapped back, suddenly infuriated that he expected her to always be the same, stay the same. “That woman had been handed everything on a silver platter. She had no idea the toll it would take to keep this ship afloat.”
He rubbed her cheek. “Ah, yes. But I am committed now, I am afraid. As of now, my love, I must go down with the ship.”
Cornelia let out a small laugh. Of course. And wasn’t that what she wanted?
“I love you, Connie. From those first walks around Washington until forever. I will do anything I can to make you happy.”
She brightened. “Even come to London to help me look for a publisher?” It was becoming clearer to Cornelia that the New York publishing scene wasn’t going to be it for her. Her book was, after all, about an Elizabethan girl. London was a better fit for that story.
This was a common course of conversation between them. Cornelia couldn’t understand. Wasn’t it Jack who had been homesick for London for years? Why, now, could he not give in to her requests to spend time there—for her?
Instead of arguing, he just smiled. “We’ll see, Neely. We’ll see.”
Like that little girl running wild and untethered through the vastness of this stunning estate, Cornelia knew whatwe’ll seemeant. For now, maybe forever, his answer was no.
BABSLove Is Blind
Iwas too old to be afraid. And yet that’s precisely what I was. As I packed my bags to get ready to go home, Julia lounging in my unmade bed going through my jewelry, I was scared. What would I say to Miles? It was all I could think about.
Julia held an earring up to her ear and got on her knees to examine it in the mirror hanging over the bed, her short exercise skirt falling into place as she did. Reid had hung that fifty-pound mirror with two hundred-pound hooks because he had been so terrified it would fall on us while we were sleeping. So far, so good.
I smiled at my granddaughter. “Those look good on you. You should keep them.”
“I can’t keep them, Babs. They’re yours. Besides, where would I even wear them?”
“Everywhere.” I winked at her. They were small clover studs that didn’t look good on me anymore. No one told me that in thedisastrous process of aging even my earlobes would begin to sag. It was very unfair.
Julia smiled. “No. I think you’re going to have slightly more occasion to wear them than I am.”
I rolled my eyes and, putting the last pair of pajamas in my suitcase, sat down on the bed. “Jules, I am an old lady. I was married to the love of my life. What am I even thinking? Maybe your mother is right. Maybe I am a little senile. I’m eighty years old. I can’tdate.”
She put the earring back in my bag. “You know, Babs, I’m not an expert on love—which should be very, very clear by now. But what I am an expert on is how hard it is to find. And I have to think that once you’ve found it, once you’ve been given a second chance at something really remarkable, you shouldn’t let it go. You deserve to be happy.”
“How did you get so smart?” I asked, cupping her chin in my hand. Ah, that face. That milky, unlined skin. Those taut, fresh earlobes. The things you miss do surprise you.
“Good genes.” She winked at me.
“My darling, I don’t want to talk about things you’d rather avoid. But how are you feeling this morning? About Hayes and his news.”
She shook her head and looked down at her hands. “I’m not going to tell Mom,” she said, looking up at me with wide eyes.
I slid my finger over my mouth indicating that my lips were sealed.
“We were together for so long. I can’t believe he’d just move on so quickly.”
I believed the right answer was that he had moved on about amillion times while he was still with my granddaughter, but I kept that unpleasantness to myself.
She shrugged and sat up straight. “But even though I’m surprised—and a little sad—I’m finished crying over him. I’ve done it for like half my life and I won’t do it anymore. If he wants to make an ass out of himself, then great. Fine by me.”
I nodded resolutely. “Good girl.” I paused and added, “I’m proud of you.”
She smiled. “You are?”
