April 1907

It's been over a month since I wrote to Professor Reynaldi about Helen, yet I still haven't received a reply. I'm starting to worry… I had hoped to secure a job and a home in time to surprise Helen at her graduation next month, but without Reynaldi it seems impossible.

My head jerks up suddenly at the sound of someone banging on the door. My father's portly assistant Mr. Cochran is standing in the hall, red-faced and breathless. "A letter has arrived for you, Mr. Hockley."

I yank the envelope from his hand and immediately notice that this letter was mailed from California. Reynaldi's reply at last! I almost breathe a sigh of relief… until I remember Cochran still standing in front of me. As I glance at the envelope again, I see it was mailed weeks ago. "When did this arrive?" I demand.

"I don't know… a week ago, maybe," Cochran replies uncertainly.

"A WEEK AGO?!" I repeat incredulously. My God, am I surrounded by idiots? "Why are you just telling me now?"

Cochran is stammering an excuse as I slam the door in his shocked face…I don't have time for this! My hand trembles slightly as I reach for my letter opener. What if Reynaldi can't help me? What if he won't? I rip open the envelope before more panic can set in and eagerly scan Reynaldi's letter:

Dear Cal,

I was delighted to receive your last letter. To say I was surprised to learn or your relationship with Miss Chandler would be an understatement, given the history between your families, however I suppose the old saying is true, "Love conquers all." Nonetheless, I would be glad to help you in any way I can.

Your letter could not have come at a better time. Just last week, I overheard the dean complaining that the school's business department is "severely lacking". As I recall, this was your major, so I recommended you for a teaching position. Needless to say, the dean jumped at the chance to have not only a Harvard graduate but a member of one of the country's most prominent families in is employment. He says the job is yours starting next term, if you so choose. I hope this will help you in the pursuit of a new life with your intended.

Sincerely yours,

Warren Reynaldi

I pull out a pen and scrap of paper, but before I can scribble a reply to Reynaldi, a sharp knock at the door distracts me. I inwardly groan; it's probably that fool Cochran back again, come to ask me some idiotic question he should already know the answer to. I barely have enough time to hide Reynaldi's letter in my desk drawer before the door opens a tiny crack, but it isn't Cochran's flushed face the peers into my office. "Cal?" Ben's green eyes meet mine. "Your father wants us for a meeting,"

I reluctantly follow Ben down the hall; my father is already waiting for us in his office. He jerks his head toward two vacant armchairs; his voice washes over me as I sit down, allowing my mind to wander back to that ill-fated Christmas dinner with Helen's family…

The Chandlers rushed outside to the sound of angry voices. "I hate you, Caledon Hockley!" Helen screamed at me. I knew she was acting, but the words still stung. She raised a hand, swiping the air next to my cheek, and I pretended to flinch. "I hate you, and I never want to see you again!"

She burst into loud hysterical sobs, but as she turned away, I could see real tears pouring down her face. It wasn't difficult for me to act devastated then; that look on her face was breaking my heart. She pushed past her father and brother, running back into the house. Her mother went after her; I tried to do the same, but the Chandler men moved in closer, blocking me. My eyes darted from one face to the next… Mr. Chandler looking around, shocked and helpless; the old grandfather staring me down with barely restrained anger; Anthony flashing his sick triumphant smile.

Helen wandered back into my room later that night. Her eyes, still red-rimmed and puffy from crying, darted apprehensively, as if expecting someone – probably Anthony – to jump out of the shadows. "Cal, I'm so sorry!" Her voice was little more than a whisper as she caressed my cheek where she earlier swatted at it. "I didn't mean it, any of it!"

Her bright blue eyes were once again flooding with tears, and my voice was unexpectedly choked as I replied, "I know..." I took her trembling hand in both of my own, pressing it to my lips. "Oh, Helen, I know…"

She threw her arms around me, burying her face in my neck as she sobbed, "Oh, Cal! I l-love you so m-much, it hurts…" My cheek rested against her reddish-brown hair as I pulled her close, holding her probably even tighter than she held me. There was nothing I could do for her except let her weep into my shoulder.

Helen's sobs eventually died, though her eyes were still shining with tears as they met mine. "If my family drives us apart, even if they force me to marry another…" She took my hand in hers, pressing it to her heart; I could feel it hammering, as if beating only for me. "My heart will always be yours…"

I pressed a hand to my eyes as my vision blurred suddenly; to my horror, it came away wet. I inwardly cursed myself; she had never seen me cry before. I knew she needed me to be strong for her… I tried to turn away, but Helen gently tilted my head so that my wet eyes met hers. "But if this is goodbye…" I felt the warm tears leaking from my tightly closed eyes, mingling with hers as she kissed my lips.

I could barely breathe when we finally broke apart, thought that also could've been from the sobs I was choking back. "Helen…" I had to swallow the lump rising in my throat before I could go on; I barely trusted myself to speak, but I knew I had to say something to assure her. "This is not goodbye, I promise."

Her head rested against my shoulder, but I could still see her eyes change. "What if you're wrong?" she voiced exactly what I was thinking.

"Helen…" I cupped her face in both hands. "I've never been more sure of anything in my life." I had to force a smile as I patted her cheek. "Now go back to bed; it's getting late." I watched as Helen brushed past me. She stopped, one hand still on the doorknob, and blew me a kiss before turning away.

The Chandlers wasted no time before kicking me to the curb the next morning. I awoke just after dawn to the sound of loud banging at the door. I barely had enough time to dress before the butler ushered me out of the house; the Chandlers were already waiting for me. I looked around, half-expecting Helen to appear and say goodbye to me, but she was nowhere to be found. "Helen doesn't want to say goodbye to you," Anthony Chandler informed me, sneering as he crossed his arms defiantly. "She doesn't want anything to do with you."

His father nodded. "As such, you are no longer welcome in my home, Mr. Hockley." He threw my valise onto the lawn beside me and turned away, slamming the door loudly behind him. I took one last look at the house as the Chandlers' driver pulled up in the car. My heart skipped a beat as I saw what I first thought to be a ghost, dressed in white, standing on the balcony… until I caught sight of that auburn hair blowing in the morning breeze. Helen… She blew me another small kiss, and I had just enough time to wave demurely back at her before the car horn blasted.

My father was already waiting for me when I returned home. His cold dark gray eyes surveyed me up and down as he pointed up the stairs without a word. I knew he was angry, though I had no idea what I might've done as I followed him upstairs to his study. He slammed the door hard behind us before rounding on me. "I received an interesting note the other day…"

He picked up a discarded scrap of paper from his desk, holding it in front of my eyes. I read:

Dear Mr. Hockley,

I regret to inform you that your son and my granddaughter have fallen in love. They have, apparently, been together for a number of months, though I only learned of the affair when your son was invited to spend the holidays with my family… against my wishes, I might add. Let me assure you, Nathan, if I had the faintest idea what going on, I would've nipped this in the bud long ago. You will do well to remind your son of his place and, hopefully, instill in him a much needed sense of propriety. Keep your family away from mine, and I will do the same.

Regards,

Aaron Chandler

The note crumpled in his fist. "All this time you've been courting a Chandler?" he demanded in an accusing tone. "How could you do that to me, boy?!"

"Father-" I began, but my voice was drowned out as he kept ranting.

"Do you have any idea what you've done? What this might've cost us, cost our company? Honestly, Caledon, I-"

"Father!" I repeated, this time a little louder. His head whipped around, his eyes flashing dangerously as they bore into mine. "It doesn't matter now…" He opened his mouth to argue with me but I cut him off before he had the chance. Helen and I… we're not together anymore." I had to drop my gaze to hide the emotion in my eyes. "She said she didn't want anything to do with me…"

I forced myself to meet his eyes, and I could've sworn they almost softened… almost but not quite. "Yes, well…" My father cleared his throat loudly. "It's for the best…"

That happened almost three years ago, and my father still doesn't know the truth; he fell for it just like I knew he would. I glance at him briefly as my head jerks up… poor fool, he has no idea. "Caledon!" his voice snaps me violently back to reality. "Do you have anything to add?"

I shake my head dumbly as I continue to allow my mind to wander. Reynaldi's letter implies I now have a job, but Helen made it clear she wouldn't marry me unless I could give her a home as well. I've been wracking my brains, but I have no idea how I'll come up with the money to get us to California, let alone buy a house. I have to quickly stifle a laugh as I imagine asking my father for thousands of dollars so I can marry a Chandler. I know I can't ask Aunt Rebecca or, God forbid, Professor Reynaldi for the money, and I doubt Helen would be content with living in a cramped Stanford University dormitory.

My father is blathering on about last quarter's profits, when it suddenly dawns on me: the emergency funds! If I take money from the company account, I'll be able to afford a home in no time at all. My heart sinks before I can get my hopes up too high. My father would certainly notice if a substantial chunk of money went missing, unless… If I withdraw smaller amounts, no more than a couple hundred dollars at a time, he might be less likely to catch on. But if he does, he's certain to disown you… or worse, a nasty voice in the back of my mind taunts. I sigh; surely he'd never suspect his own son. He'd blame somebody else, probably that bumbling idiot Cochran.

An unexplainable pang of remorse stabs my heart. I almost feel guilty for using him as a pawn for my own happiness, but I stop myself just in time. After all, it's a risk I'm going to have to take… for Helen, if nothing else.