A Hope Beyond

by Judith Pella

  All she could think about was a drink. A nice glass of sherry would do wonders to soothe her shattered nerves. At one time, her mother had been a great source of help, but now Virginia knew she was on her own. There were very few people in the household, even among the slaves, whom she could call friend or confidant.

  Entering the main drawing room, Virginia quickly went to the liquor cabinet and poured herself a generous portion of sherry. She gulped it down, fearful that someone might catch her, and had just replaced the glass and bottle when her father came unannounced into the room.

  “Virginia, I didn’t expect to find you here.”

  “Yes, well, Mother dismissed me. She thought I was being sassy and told me to confess my sins to you.”

  Joseph smiled sympathetically and came to embrace his daughter. Virginia allowed the hug but didn’t encourage it to last lest her father detect the alcohol lingering on her breath. Instead, finding her father tenderhearted toward her pain, Virginia feigned tears and took a seat on the sofa.

  “I’m so distraught,” she said, hiding her face behind the dainty lace edges of her handkerchief. “Mother is so difficult to talk to, and I fear that should Penny pass on, she will lose her mind completely.”

  “I know, Virginia.” Joseph sat down beside her and tried to offer comfort. “Your mother’s one fault might be that she loved her children more than anything else in the world. More so even than her own sanity. I’ve tried to help her, but my prayers seem the only hope for her recovery. The doctor suggests a half-dozen remedies and, of course, bed rest, but Margaret will have no part of it. She desires only to stay beside her children, and because of this, her mind and body have been greatly weakened.”

  Virginia said nothing but held the handkerchief to her lips so her father wouldn’t smell the liquor on her breath. She wondered silently if there might be a way to manipulate him to do her will.

  “I’m glad York took Carolina to Washington,” Joseph finally said, sounding completely spent by the conversation regarding his wife’s mental health.

  “Yes, perhaps that was good for Carolina, but what of Mother?”

  “Your mother scarcely remembers that any of us are here, outside of Penny and”—he paused as his face contorted with the painful memory—“Mary. Poor woman cannot imagine that her baby is truly gone.”

  “Mother was asking for Carolina just this morning,” Virginia lied. “I think she knows very well that Carolina is gone.”

  Joseph shrugged. “It’s of little matter. She’ll return after Christmas and then perhaps—”

  “What do you mean, after Christmas?” Virginia interrupted. “Isn’t Carolina coming home today?”

  “No, a messenger arrived just an hour ago. York sent word that Carolina has been invited to be the guest of Congressman Alexander and his daughter, Lucille. It seems Lucille has captured the heart of your big brother. But that aside, she and Carolina have struck up a friendship, and she has requested that Carolina spend the holidays with them in Washington.”

  “But that will never do!” Virginia exclaimed, jumping to her feet. The sherry made her head swim momentarily, but she quickly recovered and continued with indignation. “Have you no consideration for Mother? Christmas with her family is exactly what she needs to help mend her mind. I had great plans for surprising you with a perfect Christmas dinner.” Again she lied, and this time desperation was in her voice. “I’ve already laid plans for two corn-fattened geese to be prepared for our dinner. Why, Naomi is already cooking up a variety of side dishes and desserts. You can’t let Carolina’s selfishness ruin my surprise for Mother.”

  Joseph looked at Virginia in complete amazement. “I had no idea. With the sorrow and mourning this house has been given over to, I presumed the holiday would pass without much to bid it welcome.”

  “But don’t you see, Father,” Virginia said, this time lowering her voice to a more childlike timbre, “Mother needs us to rally around her. Otherwise, there will be no Christmas joy for her. With Mary dead and Penny so very ill, to allow Carolina and York to spend the holidays away from home would be unduly cruel.”

  “I honestly hadn’t considered it as such, but I see where you may well be right,” Joseph replied thoughtfully.

  “I feel confident that I am.” An angelic smile was plastered to Virginia’s lips. “I prayed about it, Papa.”

  Joseph smiled and got to his feet. “I suppose, then, I should get a post off to York and Carolina. I’ll have someone take it out in the morning. We shall bid your brother and sister return home for the holidays, and together we shall join forces to rally your mother’s spirits.”

  Virginia watched him go and felt as though a single thread of victory had been woven into the otherwise blackened tapestry of her life. Another sherry to celebrate seemed in order, and going to the cabinet, she smiled. Then lifting her drink to the air she proposed her own toast.

  “To breaking hearts everywhere. May Carolina’s soon join the numbers.”

  12

  What Might Have Been

  Carolina found herself excited at the prospect of attending a play with York and Lucy. They were to see James Hackett perform Rip Van Winkle, and on this, her second night in Washington, Carolina had already caught a fever of excitement in city life. But as she put the finishing touches on her hair, Carolina couldn’t keep from wondering what was happening at home.

  Oakbridge was such an important part of her, and yet Carolina knew she would gladly leave home to tramp around the world should the opportunity ever offer itself to her. She was connected to Oakbridge, the land and her family, but she also knew her father’s wanderlust. A wanderlust that had caused him grief and sorrow because he’d never seen it fulfilled.

  Carolina caught her reflection in the dresser mirror and was startled for a moment by her expression. Her brows were knitted together, her forehead furrowed in worry, and her brown eyes seemed to search out images that did not exist.

  She thought of her mother, a woman of stern but loving nature. Carolina longed for her mother’s grief to pass and for things to slip back to their old ways. She thought, too, of her father’s suffering.

  She’d seen him age right before her eyes, and now there appeared more gray than black in his hair, and his face was always downcast and worried.

  Her family had suffered greatly from the loss of Maryland. But Carolina could see it wasn’t the death of the child that had caused the problem. It was the loss of their mother. Margaret Adams was in some ways dead to them all, and whether or not she’d ever return was entirely questionable.

  “I’d love to leave and never return,” she whispered to her image and instantly felt guilty for having said the words. It was so easy to imagine going away and remembering things as they had been rather than standing by helpless to watch them further deteriorate.

  Hearing the chimes from the clock in the hall, Carolina knew it was time to meet the others downstairs. She took up her gloves and handbag and checked her reflection one last time before descending the stairs.

  “Ah, here she is,” York replied and held out a hand to steady her down the final two steps. “You look wonderful.”

  “It’s the gown,” she replied. “I can’t thank you enough, Lucy, for lending it to me.”

  Lucy Alexander, herself quite lovely in ice blue silk, smiled. “You do the dress more credit than I. I can’t say that amber ever looked right on me.”

  Carolina glanced down at the dark golden gown. “I’ve never seen anything quite so lovely, and I’ve never worn a French gown before. Not that it feels any different from an American gown, but I feel different wearing it.”

  Lucy nodded. “Of course. That’s the attraction. It’s all up here,” she said, touching her hand ever so lightly to her head.

  York laughed and brought Lucy’s cape. “I rather like the way it appears elsewhere. When I look at you, I don’t even once consider what’s up there.”

  “York Adams, how very unchivalrous of you,” Lucy said, f
eigning a pout. “You told me you loved my mind.”

  York grinned. “And other things.”

  Carolina allowed the servant to help her into her coat as she spoke. “You two are scandalous.”

  Lucy giggled in a most becoming way, and York merely sighed and clasped his hands to his heart in a melodramatic pose. “Alas, she has captured my heart.”

  “Yes, and he’s been practically worthless ever since,” Lucy replied, taking hold of Carolina’s arm. “Come along. Mr. Adams seems to have found a partner in himself.”

  The evening passed in the same lighthearted manner, and Carolina found herself completely captivated by York’s and Lucy’s behavior. They were like children in their teasing, but both were very aware of the power they held over the other. Lucy, for all of her heady speeches about women being independent thinkers, seemed quite content to gaze longingly into the eyes of her beloved York. She hung on his every word yet managed to assert her own opinion when she disagreed with his conclusion on a matter.

  Carolina watched them more than she did the play itself. After all, she reasoned, the story was one she was already familiar with, and she could read it anytime. But watching York and Lucy was something she might not get another chance to do for a very long while, and they quite fascinated her.

  But the play did evoke a haunting memory from the past—the night of her coming-out party. That night she had accidentally stirred up a fight with talk of the railroad, and when her brother put his fist into the face of one of their neighbors, Carolina found herself rescued by James and whisked away to the garden. It was here that she made mention of wishing to sleep away the years as Rip Van Winkle had. James had said he’d miss her if she did that, and Carolina grimaced even now as she remembered trying to push him to expound on that theme. Sadly, she recalled it was that very night he proposed to her sister. She tried to thrust away the memory, but her mind continued to wander into areas she’d forbidden it to go.

  Arriving home after a late supper at Gadsby’s, the trio was surprised to find a message on the entryway table addressed to York.

  “It appears to be Father’s handwriting,” York replied, tearing into the envelope. He scanned the single sheet and handed it to Carolina. “Father wishes us to return home for Christmas. He believes it will help Mother’s spirits to have us all around her for the holiday.”

  “Of course, he’s right,” Lucy said, without betraying any emotion. “I was thoughtless to not consider the situation.” “Nonsense,” York replied. “You gave generously of your heart, which is what you do in most every situation. You merely acted on your nature.”

  Carolina handed the letter back to her brother. Disappointment was rapidly overwhelming her, but she knew it would be callous to suggest doing anything other than her father’s bidding. “What shall we do?”

  York smiled sympathetically. “It’s too late to return tonight. We’ll start out first thing in the morning.” Then, as though suddenly struck by an idea, he waved his hands in the air. “Wait, I know. Lucy, why don’t you come home with us? Company would do Mother good, and it’s about time my family got to know you.”

  “I couldn’t leave Father here alone in Washington.”

  “Bring him along. He’s more than welcome. After all, we will one day be of the same family anyway.” Carolina’s eyes widened at this statement. York gave her a wink, and Lucy blushed and lowered her head.

  “I believe Father already has plans made for the holiday. No, I must stay with him, but”—she paused to raise her gaze to meet York’s—“why don’t you both return after Christmas? You can bring in the new year with me.”

  “That sounds perfectly acceptable,” York said, not giving it even a moment of consideration. “I’m certain that we could work it out. Are you interested, Carolina?”

  “You know better than to even ask,” replied Carolina. She felt a tiny bit of her disappointment fade.

  “It’s settled, then,” Lucy said with a confidence Carolina was coming to admire in the woman. “Your room will stand waiting.”

  York seemed pleased with the compromise and looked upon Lucy with such love that Carolina instantly felt uncomfortable.

  “I’m very tired and believe I’ll excuse myself.” Carolina paused long enough to give York a peck on the cheek and to embrace Lucy in a sisterly fashion. “Good night to you both, and thank you for a lovely evening.”

  She made her way up the stairs, longing for a love of her own.

  She paused at the top and, looking down, found York and Lucy in a tender embrace. As her brother kissed Lucy, she remembered Hampton’s lips upon her own. It was then that Carolina realized she’d not thought of Hampton even once that day. It gave her a bit of relief to make that discovery and, somehow, remembering his kiss just now did not bother her in the same way it had previously.

  York was speaking to Lucy in low whispers, and Lucy contentedly put her head against his shoulder. Carolina instantly remembered doing the same thing when James had comforted her after the death of Mary. She could still feel the coarseness of his coat beneath her cheek. She could still smell the scent of him and remember the way his fingers had touched her hair.

  Turning away, she ran the rest of the way to her room and closed the door behind her as if she could shut out the images in her mind. Hampton’s kiss. James’ touch. James’ tender expression.

  James.

  She crossed to the window and pulled back the drapes to stare into the darkened night. James was out there somewhere. She hugged her arms to her body and wished it were James in her embrace.

  You said you would miss me, she thought. Do you miss me now?

  “Oh, God, I love him so,” she uttered the prayerful declaration and sighed. “Where has he gone?” She looked down on the street and tried to imagine him there. She could envision him in his black petersham coat and top hat staring up at her with a loving smile.

  “Is it selfish to pray that you might come back to me?” she whispered against the frosty pane. “Is it wrong to love you when you gave your heart to my sister?”

  With a sigh, Carolina moved away from the window and tried to force the picture of James from her mind. James is gone, she reasoned. Virginia released him and he went away. If he’d cared for me, surely he would have stayed.

  A single tear trickled down her face, and Carolina quickly wiped it away. “I won’t cry for what might have been,” she chided herself, her heart breaking into a million pieces. “I won’t cry for what never was.”

  13

  Christmas Disaster

  “Here, Mother, come see what we’ve done,” York said, leading Margaret Adams into the main drawing room.

  Inside, the rest of the family was happily assembled, including Penny, who had been carefully positioned on a lounging couch with copious numbers of quilts over her thin frame.

  “Merry Christmas!” the children cheered in unison.

  Joseph was lighting the last of the Christmas tree candles and beamed down a smile from where he stood atop a chair. “Merry Christmas, Mrs. Adams.”

  “My!” Margaret exclaimed and held her hands to her face. “It is glorious!”

  Carolina gave Georgia’s slender shoulders a squeeze and whispered, “Maybe things will go well, after all.”

  Georgia rolled her eyes. “I could have been at the Blevens’ party tonight.”

  “Hush,” Virginia said snidely. “Think of someone besides yourself.”

  “Oh, you mean like you do?” Georgia sneered from behind an angelic smile.

  Virginia reached out and pinched her arm, but it was Carolina’s arm and not Georgia’s that she reached.

  “Ow!” Carolina exclaimed, bringing everyone’s questioning gaze upon her. She tried to think of something to say. “Virginia just offered to play Christmas carols for us,” she finally managed.

  “That would be grand,” York said enthusiastically. “We haven’t sung Christmas songs in a very long time.”

  “At least since last year,” G
eorgia replied with undisguised sarcasm.

  Virginia smiled amicably at Carolina, who was still rubbing her sore arm. “But of course I’ll play.” She swept across the room and took her seat at the piano.

  “I must say, this is quite lovely,” Margaret suddenly said, taking the arm of her husband.

  “Look out,” York said, pointing upward. “You’ve walked beneath the mistletoe.”

  Joseph smiled. “So I have. Dare I kiss my beautiful bride in front of all these witnesses?”

  “Kiss! Kiss!” York declared, and Carolina picked up the chant with Penny following suit in a barely audible voice. Only Virginia and Georgia stared on in bored indifference.

  Margaret blushed but nevertheless allowed her husband’s embrace and kiss. Afterward, York and Carolina cheered while Virginia began the strains of “Joy to the World.”

  Carolina felt a certain amount of relief in the wake of this wonderful picture of normalcy. She’d feared all kinds of problems and disastrous beginnings, but all seemed well so far and it gave her comfort. This was as it should be, she thought. A wave of sadness touched her briefly as she remembered the way Mary would dance around the tree. They could never light Christmas tree candles with Mary in the house because she wanted so badly to touch the fire. Smiling to herself, Carolina reached out a finger to gently touch one of the candles.

  “For you, Mary,” she whispered, but the singing easily drowned out her words.

  York led them in two more choruses before Joseph suggested they take their seats. “It’s time to read the Christmas story,” he said, taking up the family Bible from where one of the servants had placed it.

  Everyone took a seat, and while the fire warmly crackled and popped, Joseph began to read. “And it came to pass in those days, that there went out a decree from Caesar Augustus, that all the world should be taxed. . . .”