She knew Caroline had been waiting to hear from her mother, and she knew, too, that Caroline would not be getting the letter she wanted. She never had.“I don’t understand,” Caroline sobbed. “Why don’t they want me? I thought they would be proud.”“She says they’re happy for you,” Portia pointed out.“But why won’t she let me come home?”“You’re getting married. Married women don’t live with their parents.”Caroline’s shoulders heaved and shuddered like a ship on a stormy sea.“You really thought she would come for you?” Portia asked softly.“Of course.” Caroline blew her nose into one of the monogrammed handkerchiefs Mister had given her as an early wedding present. Seeing the M for McGreavey brought fresh tears and even louder sobbing.“Caroline, please.” Portia wanted to help, but she couldn’t abide such weeping. It didn’t leave any air in the room for practical thoughts.“I want to go home,” Caroline wailed.“You can’t,” Portia said, as gently as she could.
