Grandeur

Chapter One

There have been strange reports that a certain disgraced society woman – woman, being the odd term here – will be gracing us with her presence shortly. My source, though anonymous, says a Miss Diana Holland will be aboard a ship due to arrive shortly at Ellis Island this very week end! As a reminder, we last heard of the young Holland girl when she ran away from a proposal from the handsome Henry Schoonmaker at the docks almost a decade ago. Since then we have heard very little of her whereabouts, only knowing she is somewhere in Europe traveling extensively. We shall have to see what interesting weeks lay ahead. Why is she returning now? Could there be further financial woes in the Holland family again?

-From the "Gamesome Gallant" column in the New York Imperial, Saturday, June 29, 1907

I'm torn in two, I write on the worn journal in my hands. My hand shakes as I write and my insides flip – though I'm not sure if it's from the ships' swaying or what lies ahead. I look forward to returning to New York. In an odd way, I've missed the smell, the noise, the busy way of life. I even miss Mother, of all things. From the correspondence with Aunt Edith, I know she is unwell. That's why I know I must return.

I don't know what will happen when I come ashore tomorrow. Aunt Edith had been writing to me and sending me Elizabeth's secret letters. Of course, Mother banned anyone from talking to me once I had left for Paris seven years ago.

Seven years.

Had it really been that long? Keller is six, almost seven, so it must be. I could feel Elizabeth's joy through her letters whenever she spoke of him or Teddy, and sympathize with her sorrows whenever he was injured doing little boy things like running or playing. Teddy took good care of them both, though. Elizabeth needed that after the horrors she endured. So well, in fact, that three years later, she welcomed a little girl with Teddy as well. Evelyn, Elizabeth had written, was just like me (much to her dismay). Stubborn, but full of life. Keller was a doting brother though he grew upset when Elizabeth tutted him for playing too rough.

Though I searched for it in every letter, I had heard nothing of the man I once gave everything up for – Henry Schoonmaker. Then again, I didn't ask for anything either. Truth be told, I was afraid of any news that might come through. Maybe Aunt Edith and Elizabeth were hiding it from me, or maybe there was nothing to report. I had stayed away from any society pages for the last seven years. I told myself the moment I boarded the ship to Paris that I was leaving all of that behind me. Yet here I was, almost a decade later, and returning to a home I thought I would never see again. I held my hopes up that he had followed through on his promise – that he would leave the witch known as Penelope Hayes. That was where my hopes ended though. I didn't know what I wanted for him after that. I had told him to find love again, in someone else. Of course I meant it at the time, but here, years later, there was still a piece of me dreadfully in love with the man. He deserved better than Penelope, and far better than me.

The pen rested in my hand. I looked out my small port window. It had been days since I had seen land. Now, being only a few short hours away, my insides tumbled over one another. I had not told anyone I was arriving or even coming back at all. I purposefully waited until after I knew the social season was over to avoid any scrutiny. Now, eyes will be turning toward the coming autumn season full of operas and grand feasts. I figured I could slip in and out unnoticed. I planned to be in the city no more than two weeks – long enough to see Mother, Edith, and Elizabeth's budding family. Then I would leave once again.

I thought back to the life I left behind seven years ago. Things were much, much different then. I was a whole new person now. I had experienced the world – not just through the lens of a society woman, but as a real person. No one knew of the Holland or Schoonmaker family lineage or money at the places I stayed in Europe. They cared about drinking and living a full life, devoid of regrets. They were my people. Not the ones I had lived seventeen years with. Now, at twenty-four, I felt I had lived a full life whereas then I felt like a bird trapped in a beautiful cage. I didn't want beauty, though. I wanted life. So I went and I got it.

It was no matter though. Edith had sent me a letter a month after my arrival saying gossip about my whereabouts had died down quite a bit. Columns rarely spoke of the disgraced Holland girl and instead turned their eyes elsewhere to the up-and-coming Lina. As far as I had heard, she had remained unmarried this entire time. Though she and Leland became good friends later, they had both agreed that it was what was best. I couldn't have been more proud of my former maid. She and I had something, or rather a lot, in common. We had each forged our own paths, without men. And for that, I felt that we were stronger. Although Mother forbid it, Edith went to many of Lina's parties and wrote that each one seemed more extraordinary than the last. I was happy for her, and even wrote her a letter telling her so. She invited me to every outing she had planned but I couldn't have the heart to decline her. Our writings stopped just as quickly as they had begun.

The sun was long gone by now and the moon was bright and high in the sky. I knew I should be asleep, resting before the eventful day ahead, but my nerves were too wired to sleep. Outside my window, the waves swelled and fell away, swaying the boat this way and that. As I watched them, it slowly made my eyes begin to droop and my mind slow down. I could hear the faint sound of the waves crashing against the side of the large boat singing to me almost like a lullaby reminding me of the coasts of many different countries I had lived in for short periods of time. Eventually, I pulled the thin blanket over my body and drifted off into a dreamless sleep.

The sun wasn't even above the horizon yet when I awoke to feet running down the hallways and young children yelling to their parents, "We're here! We made it!" in several different languages.

I got up from my feather bed and looked outside my porthole. The horizon was glowing orange. I could see nothing but water – the same as I had seen for days now. But there was a feeling in the air – the feeling of promise and excitement. For most on the ship, coming to America was a new beginning. They had left their homes and families behind to start an entirely new life in this country. For others, it was a return home after a finishing season or vacation abroad. For me, it was something in between. I am not the same girl I was when I first left New York. In a way, I was coming to a new life. Yet in another, the time away had felt like a holiday more than anything.

I knew we would be in sight of the one thing that would signify our true arrival to the country soon. I changed into my travel clothes I had worn so many times already. I slipped on the white stockings that were so worn they had become grey and pulled on the thick, tan, wool skirt. I tucked my thin summer waistcoat into the band of the skirt. The stiff, high collar was not to my liking but I figured since I would be seeing Mother today, I had better look the best I could. I took back a large portion of the top of my unruly brunette curls and secured it with pins, letting the rest of my long hair curl around my shoulders. I touched it gently, remembering the night I cut it all off to join the army to be with Henry. I savored the moment for a while longer, letting the rising sun drench my room in even more warmth.

By the time I grabbed my luggage and made my way to the deck, the sun was over the horizon and people milled about here and there, looking for the one sight I knew all too well.

I remembered going to the docks many times in my youth. It took me an hour each way to walk to – I couldn't ever risk Mother hearing about how I had walked around the city without a chaperone. But I spent the entire day watching ships carrying people and cargo come and go. But that one monument stood tall day in and day out, far into the water.

When my eyes met her, a smile unconsciously rose to my lips. I saw her hand raised high to the sky, holding the torch of enlightenment. I felt as though she was looking right into me, welcoming me back.

Lady Liberty.

I suddenly couldn't wait to be off the boat and back onto the familiar pavement. As much as I had dreaded the city while I lived there, there was a strange pulling sensation drawing me back in. I felt as though I was meant to make this return. I had to keep reminding myself it was only for a fortnight, and then I would be off again.

As the boat neared the famous statue, the crowd around me began to roar with excitement. The smile that had crept onto lips only deepened as we approached. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath in, relishing in the moment. The smell of the city was creeping into the air now, and a comfort settled into my heart.

I was, in fact, home.