She felt frightened and for the first time in her life, powerless to solve her problem.
The train track ran along the shoreline, and Lillian stared out at the gray-blue sea and a wintery sky with low, gray clouds. She pictured Oliver, the way his brilliant smile would light up his face the moment he saw her and the way his strong arms would feel hugging her close. For the moment, the vision eclipsed all her worries and misgivings.
When the train pulled into the Newburyport Station, Lillian was one of the only passengers who got off. Oliver ran up to meet her, greeting her with a long, tender kiss. He grabbed her bag, and they walked over to his car.
“How long do you have, Lily?” he asked as they pulled out of the station.
“About an hour and a half. Charlotte said she’ll come pick me up. But you never know—my aunt might come instead, so I’d better get back there on time.”
Lillian and Charlotte had worked out a scheme so that Lillian could spend time alone with Oliver. They pretended Lillian had taken a later train to Newburyport, and Oliver would drop her off at the station there just before it arrived.
“Only an hour and a half?” Oliver sighed, pushing the car into gear. “Beggars can’t be choosers, I guess. Someday I’ll have you all to myself. Every day, every minute.”
Lillian glanced at him but didn’t answer. She had stopped scolding him for his high-flown, romantic comments. Secretly, she had come to expect and even enjoy them.
Oliver drove into the village of Cape Light, and Lillian admired the decorations on Main Street. There were pine wreaths on doors and garlands across storefronts. The antique lampposts were circled with red and white ribbons, like giant candy canes. The town looked cheerful and inviting, a dusting of snow on the ground adding to the holiday feeling.
As they passed the Clam Box, Lillian said, “I notice your friend’s restaurant is still in business.”
“Yes, Otto’s doing very well. You can hardly get a seat in there at times.”
“I suppose you never know,” she said, surprised to hear the restaurant was prospering.
He laughed at her. “No, you don’t, do you?”
Oliver drove down to the village green and parked near the harbor. The dock was empty and quiet compared to the summer day when they had strolled around here. There were only a few boats moored in the water, which was a dark blue-gray, the choppy waves topped by white caps.
At the far end of the green, Lillian noticed the old stone church. “That’s a pretty church. Do you go there?”
“My family does. My mother grew very close to Pastor Whitaker after my brother died. He’s getting on now. I suppose he’ll retire someday.”
She glanced at him curiously. “Do you believe in God, Oliver?”
He gave a short laugh. “Yes, I do. I doubt you’ll find a single man who lived through combat who doubts the existence of God.”
“I don’t mean at some awful moment when you’re terrified. I mean, all the time. Like right now, for instance.”
He turned to face her, his expression serious. “Yes, I do, Lily. I don’t go to church, though. Is that important to you?”
She looked out at the harbor, choosing her words carefully. “Doing the right thing is important to me, Oliver. You know I care for you, but I don’t feel right sneaking around like this. It seems very wrong. You might think it’s silly but…I can’t help but feel that God is unhappy with us and somehow, we’re going to be punished for all this lying and sneaking around.”
“Oh, Lily. Please. Don’t say that.” Oliver sat up straight and shook his head. “God knows I love you with all my heart. That must count for something, don’t you think?”
She was silent for a long time.
Finally she said, “Oliver, I’ve been thinking. I feel…trapped. Trapped in a puzzle that has no solution, no happy ending.” She turned and looked into his eyes. “I’m afraid, I don’t know what to do. I’m not sure I can meet you like this anymore.”
He put his arm around her. “Of course there’s a solution, Lily. And there will be a happy ending—you and I, together. Always.”
“How?” she asked bleakly. “I can’t see how it will ever work out.”
“Look around you. Look at this place. Don’t you think you could be happy here? It’s not that far to go in to the city for the theater and museums and all the things you like to do. I would never keep you from all of that. Listen, we’ll keep an apartment in Boston. You could go there any time you like, do what you like, see your family.”
“Oh, my family…yes, I suppose.”
“What do you think? Tell me honestly now.”
Lillian sighed. She knew what he was asking her. She knew what she felt in her heart. She didn’t have to think it over for a second. Yet it seemed like such a momentous leap to say the words out loud—a leap from one side of a mountain chasm to the other. She wasn’t sure she would really make it.
“Yes, I could be happy here,” she said quietly. “It’s quiet and rustic. Very rustic,” she added, causing Oliver to chuckle. “But the place has its own charm.” She turned her head on his shoulder and looked him in the eyes. “If I’m with you, I know I would be happy anywhere.”
“Lily.” He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her deeply. Then he pulled back a bit and dug his hand into his pants pocket. He pulled out a small blue velvet jeweler’s case, and Lillian’s heart beat wildly. She had never expected this. Never in a million years.
Oliver turned to her and took her hands in his. “Lillian, I’ve loved you from the first minute I set eyes on you. I love you with all my heart and soul and always will. I’m the luckiest man in the world to have found you, and I’ll be luckier still if you would agree to share your life with me. I’ll do everything in my power to make you happy. Will you marry me?”
Lillian was speechless. She didn’t have to think twice. She didn’t have to think at all. She nodded her answer, tears filling her eyes. “Yes, I will. I love you, Oliver. I will marry you.”
Oliver opened the box and took out the ring, a large, round diamond in a simple platinum solitaire setting. Lillian held out her hand and he slipped the ring on.
“Well, I’ll be. Perfect fit.” He laughed, looking a bit teary-eyed himself. “Do you like it? Say something, Lily.”
Lillian had been staring at the ring, unable to quite believe the object that now circled her finger. “It’s stunning. But it’s so big, Oliver. You didn’t have to get me such a large diamond.”
“You’re a tall woman, Lillian. I couldn’t get you some tiny speck of a thing. You’re going to need lots of jewelry before we’re through.”
He smiled at her tenderly then drew closer for a kiss. Lillian closed her eyes and kissed him back, her heart and soul full of love and happiness.
A few moments later, though, Lillian returned to earth. She couldn’t help it. Her happiness was shadowed by worries about her family. She looked down at her ring again. “I don’t know if I should keep this yet. I won’t be able to wear it…until we tell everyone.”
Oliver folded his hand over her own. “Of course you have to keep it. Don’t worry about your family, Lily. Once they get to know me, they’ll like me. You’ll see. It was the same with you at first, wasn’t it?”
“My parents are different,” she insisted. “They won’t be won over that easily. I don’t think they’ll even let you in the house.”
“Oh, Lillian, be reasonable. It’s not the Middle Ages. They can’t keep you under lock and key.” When she didn’t answer, he added, “What will they do? Disown you?”
Her voice broke as she answered. “Yes. They will. They’ve already said as much.”
“Love will find a way, my love,” he insisted, trying to cheer her up. “One way or the other, we’ll be together.”
Before she could answer, he pulled her close and kissed her again. Lillian lost herself in their embrace, almost able to believe what he’d said was true and that everything would work out just as Oliver promised.
Cape Light, Present-day
EMILY HAD TO LEAVE WHILE LILLIAN WAS SLEEPING; DAN HAD called to say that Jane needed her mother. Sara and Luke finished putting up the rest of the decorations and had the tree all ready for the ornaments. It looked beautiful, Sara thought, but she was no longer certain how her grandmother would react.
She walked quietly to her grandmother’s room. Finding the door open a crack, she peeked inside. Lillian was lying on the bed fully dressed, a light blanket covering her. Sara started backing out of the room when one gray-blue eye opened.
“Spying on me?” Lillian asked.
“Checking on you,” Sara corrected her. She walked into the room and turned on a low lamp on the bedside table. It was late afternoon, and the sun was already setting. “Emily had to go. She said she’ll be back tomorrow. She won’t be able to bring you in for your checkup on Tuesday, so Luke and I will take you.”
Lillian struggled to sit up, fending off Sara’s offer of help. “I see everything’s been arranged without consulting me, as usual.”
“You were sleeping. We didn’t want to wake you.”
“As if it would make any difference if I were awake. I can tolerate your husband living in this house now, since it seems necessary. But must he be part of my every waking hour? Must he be escorting me to my doctor’s appointments, as if…as if…”
“As if he was actually related, you mean?” Sara’s tone was flat and sarcastic.
Lillian sighed heavily. “I think I’ve been very tolerant, under the circumstances. I have been trying to accept your questionable choice, but it’s hard.” She looked up at Sara. “I don’t want to make a problem in the family, though.”
Sara wanted to laugh. Since when did her grandmother ever avoid making a problem for anyone?
“This particular pill would have been easier to swallow if you had had a real wedding,” Lillian added, leaning back on her pillows. “This running off and eloping, it’s very romantic but too great a shock. It doesn’t help one accept the situation.”
“I suppose that’s true,” Sara said. “I never thought about it quite that way.”
“All these elaborate, drawn-out marriage preparations are not just about the wedding. They help everyone get used to the idea of the couple being married, even if the match is not ideal. But you and…that man upstairs…” She avoided saying Luke’s name, as if he were an anathema to her. “You and he skipped that step and I, for one, am having trouble playing catch up.”
Sara knew she had to take this with a grain of salt. She was sure that if she and Luke had had a real wedding, Lillian would have spent the months leading up to it objecting loudly—just as she had when Jessica had married Sam Morgan. So in a way, her elopement had spared a lot of hard feelings.
But her grandmother did have a point. “I think that’s probably true,” Sara agreed. “A wedding or any kind of celebration does make a marriage feel more real somehow.”
Lillian nodded. “It’s important to celebrate a marriage and for everyone to think positively, no matter the circumstances.”
Sara sat on the edge of the bed. “I’ve been talking with Emily about having a party. There’s a restaurant in Newburyport that she found. It’s very pretty.” She looked up at Lillian. “But we’re not sure now when the party would be. I don’t want to have any kind of family celebration until you’re better. You won’t be able to come with all those casts on.”
Lillian looked surprised. “You’re putting it off because of me?”
“You want to be there, don’t you?”
“I can’t be choosey about the parties I attend at my age. I accept all invitations. The next might be my last, you know.”
Lillian always spoke as if she were on death’s door, but Sara knew that was all talk. Lillian would probably outlive them all. Of course, she couldn’t let Sara think being part of her wedding celebration was special to her in any way.
Sara glanced at her grandmother and took a breath. “I have another idea for a party, too. I was thinking about this while I was decorating. I was thinking, what if we had the party here—at your house?”
Lillian’s eyes widened. “In this house? Your wedding party?”
Sara nodded. “Emily had her engagement party here. It was really beautiful.”
“Oh, that debacle. I barely survived once those clumsy caterers got through with it. Jessica had to lock me in my room.”
“Lillian, it wasn’t that bad,” Sara said with a laugh. “I just think it’s such a beautiful old house. The rooms are enormous. There would be plenty of space for all the guests, and I know it could look beautiful with the right decorations and a little more fixing up.”
“The fixing up is what I’m afraid of. You won’t paint the dinner room Day-Glo orange, will you?”
“Of course not.” Sara took heart. Was her grandmother seriously considering this idea?
“Does your mother know about this scheme? Is she in on it with you? She’s been waiting for a good excuse to come in here and renovate.” Lillian practically spat out the word.
“No, I didn’t talk to her about it. I wanted to ask you first.”
“Oh, theres a switch. It’s usually a done deal by the time I get wind of anything important.”
“So, will you think about it?”
Lillian glanced at her for a moment. “Yes, I’ll take it under consideration. There will be limits, of course, to what I will allow to be altered, moved around, etcetera.”
“Yes, I understand.” Sara decided she would quit now while she was ahead. “Would you like to come into the living room? Luke and I are ready to put ornaments on the tree.”
“Do you have the tree up already?” Lillian seemed surprised at their progress. “You must be very careful with the ornaments, Sara. They’re extremely fragile—hand-blown glass from Switzerland and Italy—and valuable family heirlooms. I don’t want anything broken—”
“Of course not. That’s why we want you to help us. To tell us where everything should go.”
Sara knew Lillian would direct anyway, but she wanted her grandmother to feel that she and Luke recognized her authority—even if they had turned her house upside down the last few days.
Lillian took a deep breath. “All right. I’ll come out in a minute. Just let me get my bearings. Would you bring me a cup of tea?”
Sara nodded and rose from her seat on the bed. “That’s no trouble. I’ll be right back.”
Boston, December 1955
LILLIAN SAT IN HER USUAL PLACE AT THE LONG DINING ROOM TABLE. She couldn’t eat a bite; her stomach was jumping with nerves. No one seemed to notice, though. Her younger brother, Lawrence, was home from Princeton on his holiday break, and all eyes were turned his way. Her father had picked Lawrence up at the train station last night, and this was their first dinner together as a family. Her father was drilling Lawrence about his term, how his exams went, and what grades he expected
“The history final was harder than I expected,” her brother admitted. “There were two essay questions, and I had to take the full two hours to finish.”
“Take your time,” her father advised. “You shouldn’t rush through these examinations, Lawrence. This year is very important for you. You won’t get into Harvard Law with less than an A-minus average.”
“What about that fellow you know who’s going to help him?” her mother asked. “That judge something or other. I thought he was going to write a recommendation.”
“He will write a recommendation. He’ll write a very persuasive one. But the boy needs the grades to back it up.”
As usual, her father got very agitated whenever his son’s future was discussed. Lillian wasn’t sure what her father would do if Lawrence didn’t get accepted to Harvard Law. Throw himself into the Charles River maybe? Or throw Lawrence?
She had done her undergraduate and master’s studies at Wellesley and had been accepted to start her doctoral work at Harvard, but her father didn’t seem to take much notice of i
t, except when he complained about the tuition bills.
The dinner plates were cleared and the maid brought out fruit and dessert. Nancy came to the dining room door then. She looked straight at Lillian, and Lillian felt her heartbeat race.
“There’s a young man to see you, miss. Shall I show him in?”
Her parents both stared at her. “Are you expecting someone, Lillian?”
Lillian didn’t answer. She nodded at the housekeeper. “Yes, show him into the library, Nancy. I’ll be right up.”
Then she stood up and slowly pushed her chair back under the table. Her legs felt like jelly, and she had to hold on to the back for support.
“You haven’t answered us, Lillian,” her mother said more sharply.
Lillian felt them all staring at her. Beth met her eyes then looked away. Even though Lillian hadn’t told Beth about her secret engagement, she could tell her little sister had already guessed who their visitor was. Well, it was time they all knew.
“It’s Oliver Warwick. He wants to speak to you, Father. To both of you,” she added, glancing at her mother.
Her father sat back in his chair, looking red-faced and shocked. “Warwick? What the devil is he doing here? Did you know he was coming here, Lillian?”
She could see he didn’t understand what any of this signified, and she didn’t dare start explaining it to him. Not without Oliver at her side.
She turned and walked quickly toward the door. “Just come with me to see him, please? That’s all I ask of you. It won’t take very long.”
Her father jumped up from his chair and tossed his napkin on the table. “You’re darned right it won’t take long. I’ll have that bum out on his ear.” He looked over at a baffled Lawrence. “Come with me, son. I may need your help.”
The entire family paraded out of the dining room and climbed up one flight to the library. Lillian heard them a few steps behind her. She opened the library door and saw Oliver standing there, scanning the titles in the bookcase. He turned and smiled when she walked in. He held two bouquets of long-stemmed roses. He wore an elegant navy-blue suit and a burgundy silk tie. He looked perfect, she thought. She had to hold herself back from running into his arms.
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