“We will get through this together,” Kathleen repeated.
Hearing the girl repeat her words of solidarity almost made Edith believe them.
* * *
That night, after Cornelia had gone to sleep, Edith returned to the library, as she so often did now, to talk to George. Even when they had been gone for months, Edith could come here to find him again. Edith and Cornelia, when they were at Biltmore, lived in the renovated bachelors’ quarters to save money on heating and other bills, so uncovering her chair and table in the oft-closed library had become a part of her ritual. She would talk to George about Cornelia and Biltmore, about the trees and the estate, about the dairy and the future. And as long as she was sitting in the library, he talked back.
She had never told anyone this, of course, for fear she would be placed in a sanitarium and Cornelia would be, as she had once feared, all alone. But by the time the flood happened, this practice of speaking to George in the library was as commonplace to her as breathing. She had forgotten it was something to be ashamed of.
As Edith flopped down in the red chair near the fire and lit a cigarette, she could hear George’s scolding. This was how it always began. Her smoking; him scolding her.
“After today, even you might need a cigarette, George,” she said. “It feels insurmountable. I think we have to let the village go.”
“You have to rebuild it, Edith,” the response came immediately. “It was your dream. Don’t let it die.”
The village, that place to house and help the estate workers, had been her dream. Now, as they did in all her unfilled moments, figures began to fill Edith’s head: 86,700 Biltmore acres that she had sold to the United States Forest Service. Five dollars per acre. A $65,000 mortgage on her K Street home. Edith remembered George’s family ridiculing him, teasing him for spending all his money in a place where property values were next to nothing. George’s Folly. But he wanted to make his family proud. The thought steeled something inside her.
Saving Biltmore seemed impossible. But they had done it before.
When the Panic of 1907 had arrived, the market crashed, and they lost all that money, but they figured it out. When they hadn’t been able to pay the property tax bill in 1909—and, in turn, the county hadn’t been able to pay its teachers—Edith and George had figured it out. And when they had bailed Edith’s brother LeRoy out of his railroad debacle and lost, they had figured it out then, too. But could she really bail them out again? And without George by her side?
Edith, feeling hopeless, spoke again. “I’m too tired to start over. I’m too tired from the work and the stress of holding on to this ship that, quite literally, if the last few days are any indication, is sinking.”
The reply was simple. “If not you, then who?”
She sighed and leaned back in the chair, taking another drag of the cigarette. “I’d love to be the one to put it all back together, but I’m tired. How can I fix this when I can barely handle things as they are now?”
“Mama?” a voice questioned. Cornelia stepped into the library, the low light making the defined angular features of her face even lovelier than usual. “Who are you talking to?” She looked around, questioning.
“Oh, no one,” Edith said, waving it away. What would her daughter think if she told the truth? What would anyone think? “I was just thinking out loud.” She couldn’t deny that maybe that was true. Maybe it wasn’t George’s voice she was hearing. Maybe it was her own. But, while it stuck around, she would savor it all the same.
Cornelia sat down on the couch across from her mother. “What are all those people going to do?” she asked, a worried look on her face.
That was when Edith decided. Alone, she could fall apart. But for her daughter she had to be strong. “What do you think Daddy would do?” Edith asked.
Cornelia thought and then said, “He would rebuild. He would help all those people.”
“Then that’s what we shall do.” She nodded resolutely. “So let’s go up and get a good night’s sleep. Tomorrow we’ll don our boots and gather all the men we can find, and we’ll lead the clean-up efforts. We’ll make the plans. We’ll gather the troops and go into battle.”
Cornelia smiled. “You’re thinking about Daddy, aren’t you?”
“What gave me away?”
“That’s what he would have said. ‘Gather the troops and go into battle.’？” She paused. “Mama? Are you ever afraid?”
Edith thought before she answered. There was value in telling the truth. But, looking into her daughter’s face, she knew that now was not the time to confess to her fear. Now was a time to buoy Cornelia’s spirits.
“Did I ever tell you about the letter my grandmother left behind when she died?”
Cornelia shook her head.
“In it, she reminded our family that a house united can never fall.” Edith paused. “What about us. Are we united?”
“Of course we are, Mother.” She smiled. “So we cannot fall.”
“Exactly, my dearest darling. Plus, Daddy is always with us. What is there to possibly fear?” Edith tried to ignore it when the voice—maybe George’s, maybe her own, answered, “Quite a bit, I’m afraid.”
Even still, she pinned on her most confident smile. Edith’s greatest strength was that she had learned how to be a survivor. Now it was her job to make sure Cornelia did, too.
JULIA The One and Only
I didn’t blame Hayes for being upset. I could only imagine how I would have felt if I had showed up to our honeymoon to surprise him and found him with another woman. But after watching that video, it seemed in character for him.
“What the hell, Julia?” he said. “I get here last night for a romantic reunion and you aren’t even here. And then you show up with…” He looked Conner up and down like he was rotten meat. “Him.”
I stepped up onto the porch and Conner followed me. I turned back to look at him and he seemed relatively unruffled. I was very ruffled. But it made me like him more.
“What are you doing here?” I asked Hayes dumbly.
My ex-fiancé stood up now, stepping close to me. I had forgotten how handsome he was. The man practically smoldered. “This isn’t how this was supposed to go, Julia. You were supposed to feel sad and wistful after a few days and realize that some stupid video didn’t matter.” His voice was soft, low, and familiar. “Then I would come here and we would talk. You would forgive me. We would remember what we’ve always known: we’re meant for each other.”
“I’m sorry,” Conner said. “If you’re meant for each other, why did you cheat on her in the first place?”
Right, I thought, steeling myself. Yes. Excellent question.
Hayes’s eyes locked on mine, and I could tell he was furious. “Who the hell is this?”
“Oh, um,” I stumbled, “this is Conner Howard.”
“Look, man, Julia and I have some things to discuss, so you need to move along.”
Conner stepped closer to Hayes. “I’m staying until Julia tells me it’s time to leave.”
Uh oh. This wasn’t exactly how I was expecting my morning to go. Conner had given me the best day yesterday. We had laughed, we had joked. For the first time in a while, I had had fun.