Chapter Eleven
It was a boy, whom we named Caledon Jr. He was beautiful, with his mother's blue eyes but his father's dark hair. He was a quiet child, who watched everything intensely, smiled often but laughed little. Cal was fiercely proud of him, and I loved watching them together. Cal often brought friends over for the sole purpose of seeing his son, and it wasn't until I told him that it was unmanly of him that he stopped.
His grandfather was also very proud of him, and came to see us once a week, insisting each visit to see his grandchild, even if he was asleep.
"I might want another one," Cal said one afternoon, when Caledon was asleep in the nursery, and the servants weren't around. He kissed me, and I laughed.
"I can't do it without your help, though," I said, and kissed him back, with all the passion that I could sum up. But my passion was always limited, because it was a passion I didn't feel, didn't believe belonged to Cal. But he never noticed the difference.
"I'm so glad you and Cal are getting along so well," Mother said one afternoon during a visit. She smiled proudly, carefully putting her teacup back on the table. "It's such a nice change since…"
Her voice trailed off, and I could feel my eyes turn into slits as I glared at her. It was the first time anyone had directly spoken of it to me since it happened.
"What do you mean, Mother?" I demanded, in a cold, quiet tone.
"Well, back on Titanic, when Cal was engaged to Rose, you didn't seem to like him very much. But now you two seem so much in love…"
"I wouldn't go that far, Mother. Wasn't it you who said that love in a marriage is never a good thing?" I asked, putting my own teacup down. She cleared her throat uncomfortably, beginning to feel cornered.
"Don't be silly, Margaret, I only said that because Rose wouldn't accept Cal's proposal, and we needed the money. Love in a marriage should never be a priority, but it certainly helps," she said, drawing herself up to her full height.
"I have a fondness for Cal, if nothing more," I told her. "But I do love Caledon Jr., very much so," I admitted.
"Now, that's something. I heard from Mr. Hockley that Cal's business is flourishing," Mother said, abruptly changing the subject. I made no objection, myself only too glad to escape the painful memories. I unconsciously fingered my engagement necklace, which I happened to do whenever I started to think about James or the Titanic.
"Yes, he's doing very well. He hopes that we'll soon be able to take a vacation," I told her.
"Oh? Where to?"
"We don't know yet, but definitely somewhere we don't have to use a boat to travel to," I told her. She needed no further explanation.
"I hear that New York is very nice around Christmastime," Mother suggested, just as the door swung open and Cal came in, smiling brightly.
"Hello!" he said, kissing me on the cheek. "How are you doing, Mother?"
"Just fine, thank you," Mother said, rising. "I was about to be leaving, though."
"Oh, don't leave on my account," Cal said, motioning for her to sit again. "I was going to go upstairs and review some accounts. I don't intend to bother you two in the least."
"That's very kind, but I unfortunately have a previous engagement with a Mr. Charles Whitebury. I'm meeting him for dinner, and then we're going to the theater," Mother said, blushing proudly. I laughed.
"Oh, Mother, how wonderful. You must come by tomorrow to tell me all about it," I insisted, standing as she made her way to the door. "You don't really have accounts, do you?" I asked Cal once she had left.
"No," he confessed, kissing me again. "Now what was it that you two were saying about New York at Christmastime?"
I laughed and pulled away, ringing the bell for Susan to come to clean up.
"Mother said it was really nice and Christmastime, and suggested that we go for a vacation," I told him, going upstairs to the nursery to check on Caledon. Cal followed.
"Would you like to go to New York?" he asked, just before I opened the door to find Caledon asleep. I pressed my finger to his lips, to keep him from saying anything more.
"If you wouldn't mind going, I suppose not," I said, smiling from beneath lowered lashes. He laughed and spun me around, making my skirts flare out. I laughed but quickly quieted myself, in order to not wake the baby.
"Then we'll go to New York this Christmas!" Cal announced.
Shortly before our visit to New York, the doctor was called once again. And once again, the diagnosis was that I was pregnant. Cal was even prouder this time, and rushed forward to kiss me as soon as he heard the news. I laughed, and the doctor gave me the same instructions to follow. He also advised that Cal not expect too much from me during our trip, because of my condition. I laughed and assured him that Cal would take good care of me.
We bundled up against the cold, Susan carrying Caledon in her arms and our butler carrying the suitcases. Cal eagerly held the door open for me, and from inside the car I reached out for Caledon.
"Have a good trip, Miss!" Susan called. I waved.
The car was off, beginning its short journey to New York, a city I had not visited in over a year. I did not doubt that the servants would enjoy themselves in a large house without us, nor whether Cal himself would have fun amongst his rich friends. But I did doubt my own amusement, though, like always, I refused to let my emotions show.
"You'll like New York," Cal was telling his son, bouncing him on his knee. "There's lots of snow, and I'll even take you for a ride in a horse-drawn carriage."
Caledon eagerly clapped his hands in delight.
"You might want to be careful where you take him, he might freeze," I warned Cal. He laughed, gaily tossing off my warning.
"Caledon won't freeze, he has the strength of his father," he announced proudly. I laughed, as I always did when Cal boasted about himself like this.
It was night when we finally arrived in New York. Caledon was asleep, and Cal carried him inside. I held him while we checked into the Plaza, and Cal held him as we got into the elevator which took us upstairs to our rooms overlooking the park.
We put him in bed and took off our coats. Cal helped himself to some champagne, while I sat in the window seat and watched the snow fall.
"Do you need anything?" Cal asked, turning to face me. I shook my head. "You know, it's times like these that you remind me of Rose. She could get so serious, so withdrawn sometimes."
I smiled sadly, remembering that this was the city Rose never saw.
"You do love me, don't you Cal?" I asked quietly, not facing him.
He came and sat down in the seat, facing me, the champagne glass still in his hand.
"I love you as much as a man could ever love his wife. You're beautiful, you're a wonderful mother, and you have just as much spirit as Rose, though yours is in the right place," he told me. I smiled at him and put my hand in his, seeking comfort from my own disturbing thoughts. "Are you glad you married me?"
"Of course I am," I said, half-lying. I smiled sadly.
"I'm glad I married you. You're probably the best thing that's ever happened to me, Margaret. I hope you know that," he said, and stood. He left his champagne glass on a table and went into our room.
I didn't go to sleep that night. I stayed up until the sun rose over Central Park, watching the snow fall. I remembered how Rose used to love the snow when we were little. I disliked it because it was cold and wet, and made my skirts heavy, but Rose delighted in it, and spent hours outside, rolling around in the snow, laughing and refusing to come back inside when Mother asked her to.
Cal woke up early and came outside, looking disheveled and worn. I smiled at him from my window seat, standing up and stretching my aching muscles. Neither of us said anything, and I was glad to be released from the pressure by Caledon, who yelled for someone to come to him.
That day we went to visit one of Cal's business friends, a man named Sir Michael Johnson. He had a wife and four children, all of them girls, and I smiled and answered politely all of their questions. I acted the same as usual, but I could tell that Cal had noticed the change in me.
"Did you like the Johnsons?" he asked when we returned home that night, and Caledon had been put to bed. I was undressing for bed, carefully hanging up my dress and undergarments, and Cal was doing the same, though much less orderly.
"Mrs. Johnson was very nice," I told him, sitting down on the edge of the bed and motioning him to climb in with me.
"You didn't really like her, did you?" he asked, grinning. I laughed and shook my head.
"No," I confessed. He put his arms around me, embracing me the way James used to do. I started to cry, no longer able to control myself, finally releasing everything after more than a year of holding it all in.
"It's alright," he crooned, rocking me the same way he rocked Caledon when he was an infant. "You're safe now."
"Cal, you're too good to me, really," I sniffled into his chest. "Oh, Cal!"
"It's alright, Margaret," he said, kissing my forehead.
"I love you, Cal."
The hardest words I ever had to say were those. But in that instance, I actually meant them. I knew I could never love him as much as I loved James, and I knew he knew that. But we both were glad I had finally said it.
"I love you too, Maggie."
The nickname James used to use hit me hard. And suddenly I needed to escape it all, to get to oblivion. I kissed him almost with as much passion as I used to kiss James with. Then I turned off the light and went to sleep, a mercifully dreamless sleep.