It had been several months since I’d seen a show—not since I’d been at Ford’s Theatre with Seth. Ford’s Athenaeum was the same theater, though under a different name. It would be strange to be back there, but I wanted to go. Not only would I enjoy being in his company, but a play would take my mind off Papa’s next mission.
“You’re smiling,” Papa said as he set his toast on his plate. “It must be good news.”
“Mr. Cooper would like to take me to a play this evening. I hope you don’t mind.”
“How could I?” He smiled and placed his hand over mine. “I am pleased with Mr. Cooper’s attention, Margaret. He is a good man.”
“I think so too.”
Papa was quiet for a few seconds, and then he asked, without looking up from his plate, “Are you in love with him?”
For some reason, his question embarrassed me, and heat warmed my neck and cheeks. Instead of answering, I asked my own question. “How did you know you were in love with Mother?”
He stared off into the past—a tender smile lifting his mouth. When he finally looked at me, he said, “I knew I loved her because she was all I could think about. No matter where I went or who I was with, she was on my mind.”
“Is that all there is to it, then?”
“No, I suppose not.” He laughed. “One day, when I was paying a call on her, she asked me a question that I couldn’t answer immediately. But when I realized what my answer was, I knew I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her.”
I leaned forward. “What did she ask you?”
“She simply said, ‘Am I enough, Edward?’” He paused as he clasped his hands on the table. “I didn’t know what she meant at first, but then it dawned on me. Was she enough for me, even if I had no money, no possessions, no friends, no family, no future, no prospects—if all I had was her—was she enough for me to be happy?”
Neither of us spoke for a moment, and then I whispered, “And you realized that she was enough.”
He met my gaze, a sheen of unshed tears covering his eyes, and he nodded. “She was more than enough. Losing her was the most devastating thing that has ever happened to me. I still weep for her when I am alone, though I would not change a single day we had together.”
I touched his hands, tears stinging my own eyes. “I miss her too.”
After he composed himself, he was able to offer me a wobbly smile. “So that, my dear, is how I knew I loved her and I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her. I was able to say, ‘Yes, you are enough, Constance.’ Perhaps that is the question you must ask yourself about Mr. Cooper. Is he enough for you? No matter what obstacles you face, what disappointments you encounter, or what troubles might come your way? If you lose all else, would he be enough for your happiness?”
It was the most important question he had ever asked me, and I wasn’t sure. I wanted to be honest with Papa, though he wouldn’t understand. “Gray is not the only man who has captured my heart.”
He looked at me sharply, as if I had been seeing someone else behind his back.
“In 1941,” I said quickly but quietly, hoping it would not carry to the kitchen.
The look Papa gave me was so strange, I couldn’t read it.
“It is odd for me,” he said, “as your father, to hear you speak of another man I have not met. To know that you do not seek my approval or blessing where he is concerned.”
I laid my hand over his and smiled. “He is a doctor and a captain in the navy. He is a good man.”
“Is he enough for you?” Papa asked. “If you lost all else, would either man be enough for your happiness? I think that once you know the answer to that question, you will know the answer to your future.”
He made it sound so simple.
I only wished it were.
The play Gray took me to was calledJeanie Deans. It was a serious play, based on Sir Walter Scott’s 1818 novelThe Heart of Midlothian. The play was done well, and it felt good to be in the same space I had occupied in a later time, though it looked much different. My eyes wandered up to the balcony where Lincoln would be shot in less than four years. When I felt Gray watching me, a question in his eyes, I looked away and tried not to think about the assassination.
After the play came to an end, Gray asked, “May I escort you to Willard’s Hotel for supper?”
Willard’s Hotel was one of the most fashionable in Washington and the place to see and be seen. I hadn’t been there since Papa and I had come to the city last October.
“I would love to.” I smiled at Gray, taking his arm as we left the theater.
It was a cool evening, but I wore a full gown with wide pagoda sleeves and a heavy shawl. Clouds moved across the sky, sliding over the full moon and casting shadows over the buildings and streets as we walked to the hotel less than half a mile away.
