Sharing Corrie

Chapter Two

Corrie clutched the letter to her chest, her heart pounding furiously. Not Christina. Christina, Corrie's younger sister by four years, was the one person Corrie missed when she was away from home. When Corrie had visited her family over Christmas, Christina was still struggling with a long-term bout of pneumonia, but she had seemed to be recovering. Corrie also knew that Christina had been seeing David Marshall, but she had no idea that her feelings for him had progressed so significantly.

I must go home at once. Guilt for her long absence from home washed through Corrie. In pursuit of her education, she had spent little time with her parents and sister during the past few years, and now it took her estranged Aunt Jack to tell her that she needed to return.

Corrie reached underneath her bed to pull out her luggage and started to shove her few belongings into it. She filled a trunk with her blouses, skirts, dresses, undergarments, and shoes, and carefully filed her papers and books into the carpetbag. She knew she would have to leave behind the typewriter as well as a beautiful bureau she had refurbished if she wanted to take the first train south in the morning.

She barely gave a thought to her nearly finished semester of school; Corrie had known that obtaining her degree might be difficult with the start of the war. Money was tight for most families, and she had debated whether or not to drop out when she heard that the United States had joined the Allies. Money would be even tighter with the cost of Christina's medical expenses, and without her family's pecuniary support, Corrie did not earn enough as a typist to pay both room and board and tuition. In light of all this, she would have to postpone her studies. She would return home, abandon school for at least a little while, and revert to the meek daughter and sister she'd been before leaving home.

"Now is not the time for selfishness," she berated herself aloud.

Glancing at the beautiful rose colored dress strewn across her bed, Corrie realized that she needed to tell Edwin and felt a little ashamed that he had not been her first thought. She couldn't just disappear and leave him without an explanation; she owed him at least that. Perhaps, she wondered, he'll come home with me. He wants to meet my parents. The idea of returning home with Edwin by her side made the notion a bit more bearable, and Corrie rushed out the door and hailed a streetcar. Nevermind that she was wearing her now wrinkled woolen suit; she needed to speak with Edwin immediately.

The Dickinsons' Manhattan mansion was lit by glowing electric lights, and Corrie tried to ignore the handsomely dressed ladies and gentlemen as she rushed to the door. She was greeted by an obsequious maid in pristine black and white.

"May I take your jacket, miss?" the girl inquired, glancing questioningly at Corrie's drab apparel.

"No, I need to speak with Mr. Edwin McAlister. Please tell him it's Miss Walker," Corrie murmured, stepping into the shadows of the foyer.

The maid nodded and bustled off, leaving Corrie completely overcome by the grandeur of the mansion; double staircases climbed in two directions meeting on the floor above. She could hear the sound of soft string instruments and quiet laughter and conversation. It was almost enough to make her want to stay in New York.

Moments later, Edwin appeared at the top of the staircase. He was wearing a handsome suit and waistcoat with a matching hat and cane. He smiled at her at first, but when he realized she was still wearing her lackluster suit, his expression dimmed.

"My dear Cornelia, where is the beautiful dress I ordered you? It was quite expensive, you know."

"I...I know. I'm sorry, I can't stay, I just need to speak with you," Corrie murmured, reaching out to grab his arm.