I was introduced to Cal when I was thirteen. He was twenty-six and being prepared to take over his family's steel business. I didn't really give him much thought at first. At thirteen I placed him in the same category as my father, another adult who I was supposed to show respect to and accept guidance from. Cal was tall and handsome with a firm slender body. When he smiled, a real sincere smile, his eyes came to life. However, it wasn't until I was a few years older that I came to acknowledge and even appreciate his breathtakingly good looks.
I wasn't told the real reason why my meeting Cal was so important, but the day it happened, mother was more particular about my appearance than usual. She lectured me for what seemed like hours on being on my best behavior and making sure to engage Cal in conversation. I was confused about what my mother expected me to talk about with a man who was thirteen years older than me. Surely, with the age difference we wouldn't anything in common. I was pretty good at holding my own in a conversation, but even I could only talk about the weather, how delicious the dinner was, or how beautiful his home was for so long.
When I dared ask mother why my interaction with this man was so important, she sighed impatiently and said that he was an important business man that could prove to be beneficial to our family. This didn't really surprise me as my father was always working on a business deal with someone. I couldn't count number of boring dinner parties I had been force to sit through while my father did his best to impress different business men.
Once we arrived at the Hockley's estate and introductions were made the evening seemed to go just like I had expected with one notable difference. Instead of my father doing all the talking to Cal, with whom he was supposed to be trying to negotiate some sort of business deal with according to my mother, it was me that ended up spending the most time with Cal. My mother and father kept themselves occupied with Cal's father and stepmother, leaving Cal and I alone to chat uncomfortably. Thankfully, during dinner Cal and I finally found some common ground that helped the conversation flow more naturally. He asked me If I enjoyed reading.
Much to my mother's constant annoyance I had my nose in a book every free moment I was allowed. My father had had several bookshelves custom built in my room for my birthday a few years ago. The shelves were almost completely filled. Cal seemed impressed that I was an avid reader. We spent the rest of the evening discussing books like Don Quixote, Robinson Crusoe, Frankenstein and my current personal favorite; The Three Musketeers.
After dinner Cal gave me a tour of his personal library. I stood in the huge room that was twice the size of my bedroom with my mouth hanging open, mother would have smacked me for such an unladylike expression. Cal seemed amused at my reaction. I slowly walked over to the nearest book shelf and ran my fingers over the line of books as I read their titles. The shelves were alphabetized and I saw several books I had been dying to read.
"I could spend the rest of my life happily in this one room." I said softly more to myself than to Cal.
I heard him chuckle. I reluctantly turned my eyes from the books to look at Cal. He stood close behind me with a stack of books in his hands which he handed to me.
"These are some of my personal favorites. If you haven't read them I would be honored if you would take them home with you on loan to read. Then maybe next time our families get together we could discuss them?"
I examined the titles; David Copperfield, Ravenshoe, Crime and Punishment, and Bracebridge Hall. As luck would have it I hadn't read any of them but I couldn't wait to get home and get started. I looked up at Cal and smiled.
"Thank you so much Mr Hockley!"
"Please, call me Cal and this is as much for me as it is for you. It will be nice to have someone that shares my passion for reading and is wiling to discuss books with me."
Cal didn't know it but he had just become my new best friend. My mother had no interest in literary pursuits and tried to discourage me from spending so much time with a book in my hand. My father enjoyed reading but he had very little free time to sit and read a book for pure enjoyment. The girls in my social circle, like my mother, had no interest in books. They seemed more interested in gossiping, money and the latest fashion trends.
Over the next four years my family and Cal's spent a lot of time together. I was still under the assumption that it was about some business venture of my father's. In truth, I didn't think much about it after our initial meeting, I was too happy to have a book loving friend to suspect mother's ulterior motives. I looked forward to the times I got to spend with Cal. We loaned books back and forth. During family visits we would seclude ourselves in a corner of the den farthest from our parents and have lively discussions about book plots, characters and our likes or dislikes. We didn't always agree and sometimes that would turn into a heated exchange. The worst disagreement we had was when Cal said Pride and Prejudice was probably the worst book he had ever read. I was so angry I refused to talk to him for the rest of the evening.
When my family prepared to leave that night I knew that I couldn't get away with not saying good night to Cal. I didn't want to have to deal with my mother's disapproval the whole ride home. My lips smiled sweetly, but the smile didn't reach my eyes, as I bid Cal good night.
"Mr. Hockley. Thank you for inviting my parent's and I over. I had a wonderful time. Good evening."
He frowned slightly at my calling him Mr. Hockley, but he recovered quickly and almost looked amused when he bid me good night. We made up the next time we met, neither of us apologized but we mutually agreed to disagree about Pride and Prejudice.
I didn't become suspicious of the real motives behind mother and father's real reasons for spending so much time with the Hockley's until my seventeenth birthday. Much to my dismay mother insisted on throwing the usual birthday party. I hated my birthday because of mother's parties. They were ostentatious and she always invited the most boring stuck up people. Most of which were business colleagues of my father's who I had never met before. I was forced to be a gracious hostess and socialize until the last guest walked out the door. After which I had to listen to mother rate my performance. I usually didn't measure up to her expectations. Every birthday since I was nine had ended up with me feeling angry, alone and eventually crying myself to sleep. This year would start out with promise but end up just like it did every other year.
I was excited because Cal was coming to the party. Finally, I would have a friend to help make the evening bearable. I knew I wouldn't be able to spend my time exclusively with him but even the chance to spend a little time in the company of someone I had formed a bond with was enough to get me through the night. Mother had had a beautiful deep green lace and satin dress made for me. It had shiny silver beading along the hem and extended onto the short train that flowed behind me as I walked. The sleeves were short and made of a silvery sheer fabric. I didn't dare tell mother, but I loved the dress, it made me feel so elegant and beautiful when I put it on.
After Trudy, my maid, helped me dress she skillfully worked my long wavy red hair into an intricate up-do. I examined myself in the mirror, my figure was the envy of the girls at school. My chest had finally filled out and the tight corset accentuated my slim waist. As I looked in the mirror admiring the woman I was becoming I was suddenly worried if Cal would like my dress. My reflection frowned back at me, why was I worried about what Cal thought? He was my friend, my much older friend. We didn't have THAT kind of relationship, we simply shared a love for literature. He was handsome though, his brown eyes held a depth that at times I felt myself getting lost in. I knew he had a firm muscular body, I had felt the solidness of his chest once. He had teased me about my infatuation with a character in a book I had been reading and I had pretended to be angry while poking him in the chest. He had laughed loudly at me. The sound of his laugh sent waves of delight through me. I shook my head trying to push this line of thinking out of my head.
I turned away from my reflection, straightened my shoulders and headed downstairs to my party.