Meant for Me by Lyn Cote

Author:Lyn Cote [Cote, Lyn]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Lyn Cote

Washington, D.C., late 1918

Though Theran had been gone for nearly a year, Chloe still could not bring herself to put off mourning. After the first six months of her time of loss, she should have moved to white mourning; still she’d clung to her black veil. But now in D.C. she’d moved to white mourning. Today she wore a knee-length white chiffon veil with white silk crepe trim attached to her stylish new navy hat, which matched her suit. And today she had ventured out alone for the first time since she’d come to Washington to help her father. He was in a meeting at a restaurant near the Capitol, lobbying for better food for the troops. He’d told her that after what had happened to Theran he was making this his main effort.

Chloe emerged from her father’s Cadillac and asked the chauffeur to wait for her. “I don’t know how long I’ll be,” she said. The uniformed and gloved black man stood stiffly by the car. Disconcertingly, he reminded her of Frank Lawson. Minnie had written she was still dating Frank in New York City. Would this man even believe her if she told him she’d lived in Harlem? That she’d marched with the NAACP? Would he care? The life she’d lived those months in New York City felt long ago and far away.

She mounted the flight of steps of the immense stone house on Sixteenth Street called “Henderson’s Castle” and then rang its bell. She smiled at the liveried Negro butler who opened wide the door.

“I’m here for the dancing,” she murmured and handed him her ivory calling card.

He glanced at it. “Thank you, Mrs. Black. Mrs. Henderson hoped you would attend today.” He helped her shed her purse and such.

A uniformed footman came forward and bowed for her to precede him. The house looked as if it had been decorated to imitate a nobleman’s home, with oak-paneled walls, plush maroon carpet, and a crystal chandelier sparkling overhead. Chloe walked the long, carpeted hall, going over in her mind what she’d heard about these informal dances held every Monday afternoon by the widow of a famous Missouri senator. Mrs. Henderson was a powerful, influential force in D.C. society and politics. A lot of deals were struck in this house during parties and dinners.

Her father had arranged for Chloe to be invited today. She hoped she would make a good impression. He needed this contact and it was up to her to make good on it. It was a new feeling, a good feeling, to know her father needed her. And she was doing something for her country.

She stepped into the large, second-floor ballroom. A knot of men and women in afternoon dress milled around one end. In front of them a dainty white-haired woman sat on an imposing chair with her little feet on a step stool. She wore powder-blue bedroom slippers with pom-poms instead of shoes. The blue slippers went with the room’s floor-to-ceiling royal blue draperies, which were partially opened, revealing a wall of French doors and a balcony beyond them.

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