Chapter 8: Loss, Love, and Letting Go
On the day Caroline married, Grace arranged for a special White House letter, giving her the honorary title of Lady Foster. That kept up the Connelly family’s reputation and made sure the Foster family’s empty title didn’t look too shabby.
I watched Caroline put on her tiara and wedding gown, her lips wearing the perfect smile, but those hazel eyes that once sparkled now held a coldness that wouldn’t melt. In this contest with Rachel, she ultimately lost.
At first, both older brothers were anxious, sending trusted friends to check in at the Foster house every month. Only a year later, when news came that Caroline had a healthy baby boy, did they finally relax.
With time, the sharpness in Caroline’s eyes faded. At the Fourth of July picnic, when she came home, I even saw her wipe sweat from Captain Foster’s brow, her expression soft. Even more surprising, she asked Mom to take her to D.C., so she could pay her respects to Grace. At that moment, she was sewing a tiger-head cap for her baby son—a gentleness I’d never seen before. Mom, seeing this, smiled even more. Mother and daughter exchanged a look, understanding everything without words.
I couldn’t tell if Caroline had truly come to terms, or just buried her resentment deeper. But it didn’t matter anymore. A piece on the board either finds its place or gets taken off. Clearly, she chose the former.