The Life She Wanted: A Novel(21)

“What were you doing in Harlem?” Pandora asked uncomfortably.

Pandora had never been to Harlem, but she had read about it in the newspaper. It wasn’t the kind of place that young women in Virginia’s social circle went.

“The whole point is to be around new voices in the arts,” Virginia continued on. “I’m not going to discover them at the Dinsmores’ afternoon teas, where the most risqué conversation is about whether to spend a week in the fall in Palm Beach or wait until winter.”

Pandora reflected on how different she and Virginia were. Virginia was like a bird, continually fluttering her wings to escape its cage. Pandora was the opposite; she loved everything about Hyde Park. The stately mansions perched on the riverbank, the apple orchards and country lanes. Fall, when the weather grew cooler and the sun-dappled trees formed arches over the pavement. She even loved Main Street, with its dress shops and library, and the pharmacy where the owner had known her since she was a child and allowed her to buy things on credit.

And yet in some ways they were the same. Virginia felt trapped by her own future. Just as Pandora’s father wanted her to go to secretarial school, Virginia’s parents expected her to get married and run a large household just like her mother.

That’s why Virginia was so adamant that young women have choices.

“Wolfgang knows everyone in New York. We’re going to make a list of people to invite. Don’t worry, I’m not going to borrow Archie’s car. I’ll take the train. I’ll be back by Sunday at dinnertime.”

Pandora’s eyes widened.

“You’re going to spend the night at Byrdcliffe?”

Pandora had never asked Virginia whether she was a virgin, but she assumed she was. For all Virginia’s love of the arts, she attended church every Sunday. And like Pandora, she was only twenty.

“Don’t look at me like that, I’ll have my own cabin,” Virginia said in response to Pandora’s horrified expression. “I’m not going to sleep with Wolfgang. I’m not going to sleep with anyone until I’m ready.” She gave a small smile. “Sex should be a woman’s choice, like everything else. I’m not interested in sex right now; I’m much more excited about literature.”

Pandora breathed a sigh of relief. In a way, it would have been nice if Virginia was more experienced. Then Pandora could ask the questions that spun around her head. At the same time, she didn’t want to picture her dearest friend doing things she couldn’t imagine doing herself.

“You’ll be in New York in the fall too. You can attend my salons,” Virginia urged. “There won’t be anyone to stop you.”

But Pandora wouldn’t be in New York in the fall. She hadn’t told Virginia about her failed attempt to get a job.

She picked up the invitation and sighed. Maybe she should attend the Enrights’ house party. Perhaps something good would happen; she had run out of other ideas. And she had to think about her father. Everything he had saved was gone. If she didn’t do something soon, he might never talk to her again. And she couldn’t blame him.

Something inside her turned over and clicked into place. Like the motor on Archie’s car.

“I have to respond to this invitation.” Pandora set the envelope on the table. “Then I’m going to sew a new bathing suit; the Enrights have a swimming pool. I saw the design in Harper’s Bazaar. Yellow and blue stripes with a blue belt.”





Blythdale was even more spectacular than she had imagined. The house was three stories built in the Italianate style, with a low-pitched roof and overhanging eaves supported by stone brackets. Belvedere towers afforded views of the river, and Pandora was charmed by the marble cupola and pedimented doors and windows. Pine trees lined the approach to the house, and a stone fountain stood in the middle of the circular driveway. The grounds boasted a separate garage, stables, and proper English garden.

“Are you sure you’ll be all right?” Archie asked Pandora as he parked his car behind a black Rolls-Royce Phantom. A young man in a straw boater hat jumped out and opened the passenger door for a girl wearing a yellow summer dress and cloche hat. The man took the girl’s hand, and Pandora felt a twinge of envy. They both seemed so happy and in love. They probably did this sort of thing every weekend: drove their fancy car to house parties and enjoyed swimming and dancing.

“Don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine.” Pandora pulled her attention back to Archie. “I don’t expect you to take care of me.”

“There’s nothing I’d like better.” Archie grinned. “But I promised Lucy we’d go swimming as soon as I arrived,” he said as he turned off the ignition. “Apparently two dozen roses from the most expensive florist in Hyde Park wasn’t enough to make up for breaking our date.” His expression turned serious. “Owen is a fool; he doesn’t know what he gave up. You’re worth a dozen Lillian Clarksons.”

“Archie, there you are!” Lucy strode toward them. “Everyone’s waiting for us at the swimming pool.”

A straw hat was perched on Lucy Vanderbilt’s blond curls. She wore a cotton caftan with a wide sash tied around her waist that showed off her long, shapely legs.

“I haven’t unpacked my bag,” Archie said to Lucy. “I need to get my bathing trunks.”