Proposal

Cora waved at her mother's small form as she and her Frank trotted off in his carriage. This ride was in many ways even better than the last, as Cora wore one of her red spring dresses, and Central Park smelled of fresh blooming flowers.

Best of all, Cora knew she was riding with her prince. Every time she saw him, his smile and touch caused her to fall deeper in love with him. And she still loved watching his strong hands move the reins to guide the lovely horses. Every time his shoulder brushed against hers, Cora's entire body tingled with energy.

In fact, she needed more of that energy, so Cora moved closer, causing her legs to push against Frank's as well. A flood of feelings, like those new electric lights Mother had installed in their house a couple of years ago, shot through Cora.

Looking at her with wide eyes, she knew her Frank felt it, too. Especially when his hand reached up to play with the ruffles on her red dress. Her face felt warm, and Cora knew she was blushing again, but Frank appeared to enjoy that, with the way he smiled at her.

His hands jerked the reins again and the carriage turned the corner. Cora blinked in surprise, but then watched Frank's hands and inhaled the sweet air. This was her fairytale.

Somehow, it got even better a few moments later when Frank stopped the carriage and kissed her. Over and over again, his lips touched hers and her heart burst. There was no way she could live without his wonderful kisses which exploded with love, Cora thought absently as her Frank leaned in for another.

"Your kisses are perfect," he said, his breath on her cheek.

"So are yours," Cora said, staring at his lips as she waited for them to touch hers. Her heart pounded.

"Your finishing school voice sounds so proper," he said against her ear.

"Do you truly think so?" Cora said in the accent she liked to think was almost perfect. It seemed finishing school had more rewards than just learning about artists, after all. Her lips leaned closer to his.

"I do," Frank said, finally kissing her again and letting her heart explode all the way to the moon. Especially as his warm hand pulled her body closer to his. When they finally withdrew, he paused and gazed into her eyes for several few moments, inhaling deeply.

"So, we should get married," Frank said, his breath still tickling her face. Drums banged in her head at those words.

Gazing at him, Cora pictured how wonderful it would be to marry him. They'd have a fairytale wedding in a church where she would wear a beautiful gown. Afterwards they would ride off in a coach similar to this one, kissing. And Cora would spend the rest of her life kissing Frank. His warm touch would make her tingle forever.

It was what she wanted most, wasn't it? Her lips landed on his again, and when they withdrew Frank gave her another smile that melted Cora into a puddle. "I'll take that as a yes."

He kissed her cheek, and her heart soared, but something pricked on the back of her mind.

Poppa. A man must ask a girl's father before he proposed. But that shouldn't matter when Frank was giving Cora wonderful, loving kisses. Of course, a man was supposed to ask a girl's father before he began courting, and her Frank hadn't done that either.

His warm hand cupped her cheek and brought her face closer again, and all thoughts disappeared from her mind. "Ah, Cora, I could never have dreamed I'd marry a girl as wonderful as you," Frank said into her ear.

"Oh Frank," she said into his, unable to focus on anything but the warm haze that surrounded them. And more kisses.

But as he withdrew again, word "marry" broke through the haze. She'd tried to explain to herself that Frank hadn't wanted anything serious when he hadn't spoken to Papa about courting, even though Cora's heart knew it was far more than that.

But now she had to say something.

"Frank," she said, placing her hand on his shoulder to stop him from giving her another kiss. His shoulder was firm to the touch. "What about my father?"

Giving her his famous melt-worthy smile, he said, "Your father is very interested in developing our business relationship at the factory. A marriage between us would only further those goals."

Cora nodded as his lips approached hers. That made sense. Didn't she hope he would be as close to her family as Mr. Johnson someday? This was a great match. Especially with those kisses.

Yes, she needed these kisses…

And yet something prickled on the back of her mind again. Cora wished she could remove her brain so she could just enjoy Frank's kisses and love instead. "But did you ask my father first? I've been taught a man should ask her father to show he is worthy of her hand," she finally said, looking into his warm brown eyes.

"But why?" Frank's breath tickled her ear as he kissed a spot behind it that made her wonder the same thing. "A marriage is between the two of us, so you are the only one who needs to agree." He brought his face back to gaze at her. "Do you love me, Cora?"

Cora took a deep breath and said what she'd known for almost three months now. "Yes, I do."

"Then you'd never want another man?" his face inched closer, causing her heart to gallop.

"No, never," she wrinkled her nose at the abhorrent thought.

"Then you'll have to marry me no matter what anyone says," Frank said before landing another kiss on her lips that made the entire conversation worth it and then some.

OOOOOOOOOO

Cora still daydreamed about Frank's kisses as Mother helped her back into the Levinson carriage. "It's a lovely spring day," said Mother's brash voice, interrupting Cora's more pleasant thoughts. "Central Park was certainly full of blossoming flowers. How many did you see?"

"Ah, I am not certain," Cora said, staring out the window of their own carriage to seek the flowers. Frank had suggested this carriage ride to see the blossoms, but with his kisses, and just as importantly, his proposal, Central Park's flowers had disappeared from her mind.

"Cora," Mother said, almost as a warning. "You need to focus your attention away from Mr. Samson."

But I cannot! She wished to say. I love him and we are going to be married.

Before she could, Mother droned on with plans for attending events that could allow Cora to meet "appropriate gentlemen." Cora eyes focused on the flowers and then the streets of New York City.

Mother would never wish her to marry Frank, no matter how perfect his kisses were, or how good it would be for Poppa's business. Mother still dreamed of Cora marrying into the first families of New York so the Levinson's would finally be accepted in proper New York society.

Mother would also likely claim that Frank hadn't proposed properly, considering he hadn't spoken to Poppa first or knelt down on one knee, or even given Cora any kind of token. Frank's touches, his wonderful carriage proposal, and the kisses he'd given her wouldn't mean anything to her.

How could Cora cause Mother to understand? Was there any way? Could Cora bear to see her mother's disappointment? Mother and Poppa had eloped, rather than accept their families' attitudes about Jewish/Christian marriage. Was history repeating itself, only with Cora and Frank eloping instead?

Cora had always believed she could never do something so defiant as eloping, but was it the only answer?

Flashing her mind back to the opera she and Mother had seen a couple of months ago, Cora's heart sank. It was about a woman being married to one man while being madly in love with another. Tristan and Isolde suddenly felt too close to home.

The houses on Fifth Avenue, which ordinarily were pleasing to the eye with their bay windows, curtains, and back gardens, were now difficult to see through Cora's watery eyes.

OOOOOOOOOOO

Cora swallowed her shellfish stew that night and took a deep breath. She no longer had watery eyes, but rather looked at the silk tablecloth and the silver walls. She wouldn't become Tristan and Isolde. She wouldn't. "Mother," she said, pausing to drink her wine. Her heart galloped, as it often did when she thought about Frank, but tonight it wasn't so welcome.

Could she truly do this? Frank appeared in her mind, ready to give her another kiss. "Then you'll have to marry me no matter what anyone says."

"I want to marry Frank Samson," she said finally, in a rush. Her heart still galloped.

"Cora, you know that is unacceptable," Mother said, her voice even louder than normal. "Sooner or later, an appropriate gentleman will notice you and you can marry him. There must be a garden party or two that we can attend this summer."

An image of Cora being forced to pay attention to other gentlemen at garden parties flashed through her mind and her stomach lurched. She had to have her Frank. "Mother, you cannot make us attend garden parties," Harold said, just as Cora was about to speak. "They're so boring and feminine." He made a face. "Madison Square Garden is supposed to open soon; lets plan to go a baseball game instead."

Cora, who had been dreading her mother's garden parties just as much, immediately turned to her brother with a wrinkled nose and a frown. "Well, a baseball game is boring and masculine."

Mother looked from Harold to Cora. "We will attend garden parties, no matter what either of you say. But perhaps we could go to Madison Square Garden as well, if you behave yourself, Harold."

Cora rolled her eyes, knowing it would never happen; Harold never behaved himself. But she always had. She took a drink of wine. "Mother, I have always done what you wish. I should be able to marry the man I love now. He has proposed, and I have accepted."

Her heart galloped again.

Mother slammed her fork against the table. "Cora, no. Marriage is about doing what is right; not what you think you deserve now. This Mr. Samson isn't right for you, and I should never have encouraged you to continue seeing him. He's not from a proper family and I doubt he'd even have money for a token."

Sighing, Cora's face burned as Mother voiced some of the arguments, she'd been certain would be mentioned earlier today.

"And he's a complete dud," Harold said, as if he enjoyed jumping in the middle of this painful conversation.

Cora hated fighting. But still she exploded, "He's everything to me! Mother, you eloped with Poppa when you were only two years older than me. Why could you marry the man you love, and I cannot?"

Mother shook her head, her eyes deadly. "That is enough. I will not tolerate such disrespect from either of you." Her eyes, which appeared almost the color of her hair, stared down at both of her children. "And Cora, I am sorry to tell you this, but 'marrying for love' isn't worth it."

Her heart ripped, as she would clearly be forced to choose between her family and her Frank. How could Cora do that? "I am done with dinner," she said, swallowing a lump before she pushed in her chair and burst into tears as she raced to her bedroom.

OOOOOOOOOOO

For the next few days, Cora spent a lot of time in her bedroom with wet eyes. Sometimes she sobbed her heart on her pillow, other times she sniffed as her eyes welled. How could Mother be so hypocritical, claiming marrying for love wasn't worth it, with what she'd done to marry Poppa? Cora recalled what she'd said to her mother a few months ago, about how her values had changed too much since moving to New York.

Clearly this was another example of that, with far more heartbreaking results for Cora. Her eyes welled again. She would not become Isolde.

As she dried her tears again, a burst of determination swelled inside her, and she began gathering her things. Her hairbrush and extra corset. A few pairs of silk gloves. The spring red dress that her Frank loved. What did Mother imply when she'd said, "Marriage is about doing what is right"? Certainly, marrying someone she loved had to be right. She'd visit Frank at the factory tomorrow, and they would elope. It was the only way.

Then Cora's eyes landed on the porcelain doll Poppa had bought for her for her birthday after they'd moved to New York. She'd told Poppa she was too old for dolls, but now Cora stared at the lovely creature with the silk blue dress, dark hair, and pale skin.

Poppa had said she looked just like Cora.

She fingered the doll's fine hair, and tears rained down her face.

OOOOOOOOOO

The following night Cora still stared at her porcelain doll, having not visited Frank at the factory after finishing school. In the end, she simply couldn't run away from Poppa and his doll, Mother and her fondness for Mr. Johnson, or even Harold and his annoying obnoxiousness. Those were all the reasons Cora loved them.

But she loved Frank, too. Couldn't they understand that? An image of her prince in his carriage smiling and ready for a kiss appeared in her head, and she yearned to run to him at this moment.

She picked up her traveling case again.

"… going to have to tell her to stop seeing him, Isidore. For some reason, she… listen to me…" Mother's loud voice said from downstairs. Clearly she was speaking about Cora and Frank.

"… problem when you're never home," Mothe said after several moments. "… don't know what's happening…" Cora nodded in agreement at that statement, despite her continued anger at Mother.

What would Poppa say? His voice was much quieter than Mother's. Before she could talk herself out of it, she crept out of her room and headed downstairs. She stopped in the hallway between the drawing room, the dining room, and Poppa's office. "… how I earn all the money you've been enjoying for the past few years," his voice came from his office.

"I know," Mother's voice said, from the same room. Briefly, Cora wondered why she was in that room; it was supposed to be off-limits to the rest of the family. "But for us to continue to enjoy all the benefits, Cora must marry appropriately. This Mr. Samson isn't."

"It isn't that easy, Martha," he said after several moments of silence. "I cannot break her heart."

"And you think it's easy for me to do so?" Mother said, almost barking. Cora's stomach moved guilty at that, having wondered if it was a bit too easy for her to say Cora couldn't marry Mr. Samson. Perhaps that wasn't the case, after all. "But her heart will be destroyed even more if she does go through with this."

Cora shook her head. Mother still believed Cora would be miserable if she didn't have the same status as the first families of New York did. Did it occur to her that society meant nothing to Cora? Love meant everything.

"I don't believe our daughter cares as much about status as you do, Martha," Poppa said, as if he could read her thoughts. Cora's heart soared. "And Mr. Samson is a good employee, he could be a good investment to the family, too."

"Investment?" Mother said, almost spitting the word like a lemon that was too sour. "That's truly all you think about, isn't it? The business angle. There was a time you cared about more, but that man has gone. Our status in New York's elite is all I have left."

Her mother's words made Cora feel hollow. She knew Poppa had changed in the last few years as well, especially considering they'd moved to New York, but she'd never paused to consider how that affected her parents' relationship.

"It isn't all I care about," Poppa's voice said, so softly Cora had to focus extra hard to hear him. "I care about our family, too."

"But not the way you did when we eloped, right?" Mother said, a bit quieter for her, but still loud enough for Cora to hear easily. "Or even the way you did when Cora and Harold were born."

Poppa grunted in protest. "Martha, it isn't like that," he said. "And it's interesting that you mention our past, because it's part of the reason I cannot tell Cora not to marry her Mr. Samson."

Cora's heart soared all the way to the moon. She wished she could hug him with all her might right now. Having heard what she needed; she slowly made it back to her room. But Mother's loud voice still reached Cora's ears at the top of the stairs. "… worry, Isidore. I'm not in love with you anymore, either. But marrying you is enough because of all the other benefits."

OOOOOOOOOO

Cora tossed and turned throughout the night as she struggled with knowledge she wasn't supposed to have. Eavesdropping was wrong, and not just because Miss Maple would reprimand Cora for bad manners. She'd listened in on her parents' private conversation, and now understood her parents didn't love each other anymore.

For all her stomach twisted in guilt, a part of Cora was glad to understand Mother better. She didn't only care about New York Society, nor did she wish to be as hypocritical as she appeared. Rather, Mother apparently needed those things to justify her now…cold marriage that had once brought her so much joy.

But Cora knew love could be long-lasting, no matter what Mother said. Her mind drifted back to Grandma MacKenzie, who spoke about Grandpa with such affection years after he'd died. Affection that Cora realized she hadn't seen in her Mother's eyes about Poppa in several years.

Certainly, Cora and Frank could have long-lasting love, too? Their hearts were overflowing with love, especially with his kisses and touches.

And since Poppa was on their side, how could they fail?

OOOOOOOOOOO

Poppa had breakfast with the family the next morning.

Harold and Cora stared at him as he sat down, and even more as Jenny handed him a plate of toast, eggs, and bacon. "Why are you eating with us, Poppa?" Harold said, asking the question that was on both their minds. "Usually, you're already at the office by now."

Poppa thanked Jenny as she handed him a glass of orange juice. "I have something that needs to be discussed here after breakfast." Cora noticed he seemed to be avoiding looking at Mother. Was that something that was more common these days than she'd previously had thought, or was it in response to last night's argument?

Cora thanked Jenny for her own orange juice, avoiding Mother herself. How could she have thought eavesdropping would be a good idea? Her own breakfast of toast, eggs, and fresh berries tasted like guilt. She barely heard Harold and Mother chatter about their plans for the day.

OOOOOOOOOO

Poppa called Cora into his home office after breakfast.

Cora slowly entered the forbidden territory, glancing at the deep red walls and mahogany trim. A large desk with stacks of papers and folders sat on one side, while a bookcase that reached the ceiling sat on the other. In the middle of the room were two armchairs, probably meant for Poppa's associates.

"Sit down please," he said, pointing to one of the armchairs. Cora sat down, her heart pounding. Why was she permitted in this room, much less allowed to sit in chairs meant for men working with Poppa. Did this have anything to do with Frank?

"I hear you've been seeing one of the foremen of my factory and you'd like to marry him," he said slowly, placing himself in the opposite armchair.

"Yes, Poppa," Cora said slowly. Her insides were dancing with delight, but she struggled to look at him in the eye. She wasn't supposed to know how Poppa felt about her and Frank.

"I would prefer it if you would wait for marriage," Poppa said. "You have only known this Mr. Samson for a few months."

"But Poppa, I know he's the right one," Cora said, briefly looking into his eyes, knowing he would understand. " I love him, and I don't wish to have Mother try to find me 'another match' when…Mr. Samson is all I will ever need in a man."

Sighing, Poppa remained quiet for a long time.

Cora's insides switched between eagerness, nerves, and guilt. Last night, Poppa had implied he would let her marry Frank, but today he didn't seem as certain. Her breakfast flipped uncomfortably in her stomach. Once again, Cora wished she'd never heard of her parents' conversation. She promised herself she would never eavesdrop again as long as she lived.

But despite her uncomfortable stomach, she also noticed she looked directly at her father's brown eyes from this armchair. Poppa had always towered over their entire family. Cora knew she had grown quite a bit in the last couple of years, it was one of the reasons she loved that her Frank was so tall. But to be almost as tall as Poppa was not something she had ever expected.

Might it help her parents treat her like an adult?

"What if I were to agree to the engagement, on the condition that you wouldn't marry him at least until next year?" he said finally. His eyes looked so hopeful, as if the plan might solve all their problems.

"Oh, yes, Poppa, yes!" Cora said, her heart overflowing. She threw her arms around Poppa and hugged him as tightly as she could. For the last few years, sometimes she'd wondered if he truly loved her, as he clearly thought his business was more important than his family. But today she had definitive proof that Poppa loved Cora as much as ever.

Just as importantly, he thought she was old enough to choose her own husband.