She missed Willie being a celebrity, and she wasn’t fond of keeping house and being a mother. She got a job at a department store so she didn’t have to stay home, and Willie looked after Pandora between coaching sessions.
Then the war started, and Willie was injured in France. By the time he returned, Laura had had enough of the marriage and left.
“It wasn’t your fault that she left,” Pandora said urgently.
Her father looked so broken up; she couldn’t bear to see him hurt.
And there was no point in saying what she really felt—that Pandora was the reason that Laura left. That might hurt Willie even more. They had been a family, and Laura hadn’t felt they were worth staying for.
“The doctors wouldn’t let me leave the rehabilitation hospital, and the army wouldn’t discharge me,” Willie went on. “If Laura had truly been in love with me, she would have waited. That’s what I’m trying to say. When we got married, I thought my love for her was enough for both of us. You can only marry Harley if you both love each other; otherwise it won’t work.”
Pandora flung her arms around her father. It felt good to be talking to each other again. She felt closer to him than she ever had before.
“You could be worrying for nothing; Harley hasn’t kissed me yet. If he doesn’t, I promise I’ll get a job.” Tears sprung to her eyes, and she blinked them away. “Harley is special, but I’ve already got the best man in the world.”
Willie stood up. He returned the chair to the dressing table.
“I hope you’re right. At least you can learn from my mistakes.”
Virginia was already in Archie’s car when Pandora appeared downstairs. She looked summery in a floral dress with butterfly sleeves and a huge floppy hat.
“I’ve been waiting for ages,” Virginia chided. “You’re getting as bad at being on time as Archie. Don’t tell me that’s what happens when you fall for someone.”
“It has nothing to do with Harley,” Pandora protested.
“Of course it does. You were choosing what to wear,” Virginia said. “Tonight is the last night for Harley to declare his intentions.”
“That’s not why I’m going to the party,” Pandora said stubbornly. She didn’t want Virginia to think she expected anything from Harley. It was bad enough when Owen proposed to Lillian. She couldn’t face that humiliation again, even with her best friend.
“I have wonderful news.” Virginia waved away her comment. She patted the back seat. “Get in and I’ll tell you.”
Pandora threw her bag in the back and climbed into the car.
“I found a space for my poetry salons. It’s on Christopher Street, opposite the Greenwich Village Theater.”
Pandora’s eyes widened. Greenwich Village was as scandalous as Harlem. Bohemians lived there, along with actors and artists and vaudeville players. Virginia couldn’t host her salons there.
“Your mother would never allow it—and rightly so,” Pandora said, shocked. “It’s not the kind of place for a young woman to be alone.”
“Who says I’ll be alone?” Virginia said gaily. “The point of the salon is to be surrounded by people. Wolfgang is going to help me fix it up. I’ll put in heavy drapes so no one can see us from the street, and big sofas so people will be comfortable while they’re listening to poetry. And a bar of course, stocked with gin and whiskey.
“Wolfgang and I are making a list of poets to give readings.” She ticked off names on her fingers. “Nella Larsen promised to read from her new poems. And Jessie Fauset, who’s the literary editor of The Crisis and a friend of Langston Hughes. And Gwendolyn Bennett—I met her in Harlem. She’s as beautiful as an artist’s model, and a talented poet too.”
Pandora hadn’t heard of any of them. But she loved seeing Virginia so excited.
“What did I miss?” Archie appeared. He dropped his bag in the seat next to Pandora and hopped into the driver’s seat.
Virginia glanced quickly at Pandora. Archie was terrible at keeping secrets; he didn’t know anything about Virginia’s salons.
“We were talking about you and Lucy Vanderbilt,” Virginia said airily. “If you marry her, you’ll inherit the Vanderbilt estate someday. A hundred and sixty acres of parkland and another five hundred acres of the farm.” Her eyes twinkled. “You’ll have your own sheep and pigs.”
“I’d rather dip my feet in cement than own pigs.” Archie shuddered. “I don’t need an estate. I’m happy with my room at Princeton.”
“What about Lucy?” Virginia wondered. “You’ve been seeing her all summer; she’s in love with you.”
“With Lucy it’s all about herself, her own entrance at a party.” Archie sighed. “She wouldn’t notice if I sent someone else in my top hat and tails.”
Just as Archie knew nothing about Virginia’s salons, Virginia knew nothing about Archie’s dream to be a professor. Pandora felt slightly guilty that Archie confided in her rather than his sister, but Virginia loved to tease Archie; she’d never take him seriously.
Pandora had seen the Vanderbilt estate from the river, but she’d never been inside the gates. The parkland stretched on forever with bridges and stone benches and a mill attached to a pond. When the mansion appeared on the hill, Pandora’s mouth dropped open.
The house was grander than Riverview and almost twice as large. Pandora had read an article in the New York Times declaring it “the finest place between New York and Albany.” Frederick Vanderbilt loved to entertain, and he often rented a private train to bring guests to the estate from New York. The house had fifty-four rooms designed in the Beaux-Arts style. The exterior had perfect symmetry and Greek columns that were so tall Pandora had to crane her neck. It was four stories with a flat roof and featured a circular portico and pedimented doors decorated with stone gargoyles. Smaller buildings surrounded it: stables, living quarters for the gardeners, and even a separate sports pavilion.
“It’s quite nice; you could enjoy living here,” Virginia said offhandedly to Archie when they pulled into the driveway.
“That’s easy for you to say,” Archie grumbled, turning off the engine. “Lucy isn’t happy unless she gets her way about everything.” He jiggled his blazer pocket. “I brought my own flask. It’s the only way to cope with her and still enjoy myself.”
For the first time, Pandora felt sorry for Archie. He was only dating Lucy to make his mother happy. The Vanderbilts were the most important family in New York, even Pandora noticed how often Maude Van Luyen dropped their name into conversation at every opportunity.
Archie wasn’t like Pandora who had to use every scrap of drive and ambition to rise above her station. Or even like Virginia who had to tell her mother little white lies to achieve her goals. Young men like Archie were handed everything in life from an early age. Private tutors and athletic coaches so they got the best grades and excelled at sports. When they graduated from college, they had careers waiting for them, and when they got married, they were given a townhouse on Park Avenue and trust funds for their children.