The Life She Wanted: A Novel(61)
Or what if Harley didn’t try to cover it up? What if instead he proclaimed he couldn’t live without Porter and was leaving her. Pandora still loved Harley. She couldn’t imagine life without him.
Over time, Pandora convinced herself that whatever happened between Harley and Porter was in the past. Harley had made a promise; he wouldn’t risk everything by being involved in a scandal. He was a doting husband and father. On the weekends, he couldn’t tear himself away from Esme. He read her picture books and took her for long walks in her pram. Monday mornings before he left, he kissed Pandora deeply. During the week, he sent flowers and chocolates, and he was always happy to see her on Friday evenings.
Pandora was happier than she had imagined she could be. Esme grew from a serene baby to an energetic toddler who walked at eleven months and loved to sing. She adored her parents equally, and even though she was spoiled by a succession of adults: Adele and Milton, Willie, Virginia, and Archie, who sent presents from England, she never had tantrums and was sunny and good natured.
Pandora set aside her guilty secret and concentrated on being the best wife and mother. If sometimes she caught herself looking at Esme and wondering whom she would look like when she was older or if she had inherited her happy disposition from Archie, she quickly thought about something else. In time, Esme would develop her own looks and personality.
Esme wasn’t the only thing that made Pandora happy. Summerhill became lovelier every day. During the winter, every room had a roaring fire, and Pandora loved nothing more than sitting in the morning room with the pale sun streaming onto the geometric-patterned rugs, sketching dresses in her notepad. They planned to build a pool house that summer, and Pandora was busy furnishing the guest wing.
Even more exciting, next week was the grand opening of her boutique. Instead of Hyde Park, she’d chosen to open the boutique in New York. Pandora couldn’t be more thrilled. It was everything she dreamed of. It had been Vivian Clarkson’s idea. Pandora told her about wanting to open a dress shop, and Vivian advised that she’d find a bigger clientele in Manhattan, so why not start there?
Vivian showed her the perfect space a few blocks from the Bergdorf Goodman building on Fifth Avenue and Fifty-Eighth Street. Pandora worried that it was too far uptown for the clientele she wanted to attract, but Vivian assured her that Bergdorf’s was the most elegant department store in New York.
Pandora took the shop on the spot. When she wasn’t with Esme, she spent every waking moment over the next few months choosing the decor for the boutique. Thick white carpet so that women’s heels didn’t click-clack on the wood floor. Pale blue velvet chairs for the sitting area, textured wallpaper that was elegant but wouldn’t upstage the clothes.
At the same time, she worked tirelessly on her designs. She wanted to keep her first collection small, so every piece had to be perfect. She bought the most expensive fabrics, buttons, and threads. She made smart day dresses for women’s lunches at Hotel Astor and the St. Regis, sumptuous evening gowns for the ballet and the opera. When she finally hung the garments on the store’s satin hangers, they shimmered like peacocks under the chandelier, and she knew that she had achieved her vision.
She also started a scholarship to send girls to college. Millie’s children inspired the idea. Millie’s son Thomas hoped to win a baseball scholarship to Columbia, like his idol, Lou Gehrig. Millie’s daughter, Daisy, was a fast runner, but no one encouraged her to compete, and there were no sports scholarships available for girls. Besides a few female tennis stars, like Willie’s pupil Suzanne Lenglen, women didn’t pursue careers in sports. The scholarship would be called the Willie Carmichael Scholarship for Women in Athletics and Academics, and Pandora was searching for the first recipients.
She had been busy this last year, but so very happy. She couldn’t let her doubts about Harley spoil Esme’s birthday. He’d be home soon, and she would have worried for nothing.
Footsteps sounded in the hallway. Pandora heard Virginia’s voice.
“You’d never know you have a maid,” Virginia entered the living room. “You spend half your time polishing the furniture.”
“The party will be inside because it’s too cold on the lawn.” Pandora put down her polishing rag. “I want everything to look perfect.”
Virginia sat on the crimson-colored velvet sofa. As usual, she was dressed in the latest style. A cloche hat covered her bob, and she wore one of the sailor-inspired new middy blouses over the most daring thing of all: wide-legged trousers.
“I’ve never been so happy to be home for the weekend.” Virginia sighed. “I’m going to spend tomorrow in the bathtub and try not to even think about book jacket copy or bookstore receipts.”
Virginia’s publishing company was a huge success. Riverview Press had published three titles and had four more scheduled for the fall. The New York Times reviewed the biography of Katherine Mansfield and praised both its subject and author. Virginia had already commissioned five biographies for the following year and spent her days dealing with writers and booksellers.
“I love every minute of it, but there’s so much to do.” Virginia pulled off her driving gloves. “Wolfgang handles the printing press and cover designs. I do the office work and visit authors and bookstores. The phone is always ringing, and I’m slow at typing. If only I had someone to run the office, I’d have more time for everything else.”