May 1904

"The square root of the…" Professor Graham's voice drones on. I stare past him to the clock on the wall… five minutes left, the last class of the day. I absentmindedly trace a design on my notebook. "Mr. Hockley!" Graham's voice jerks me from my thoughts. "Perhaps you could tell us the answer to the equation."

Graham's eyes spark a silent reprimand as I glance up. "I…" I feel everyone's eyes on me. Luckily the sound of voices rising from the hallway prevents me from having to answer.

Graham looks back at the clock. "Is that the time?" He sighs. "Very well. You are dismissed."

Dave and Raoul are already waiting in the hall as Ben and I return. "So are we still on for tonight?" Ben asks.

I nod; so does Raoul. "Wouldn't miss it for the world," he laughs. "What about you, Dave?"

He shakes his head. "Not tonight; I have to study for exams." He turns away, shutting the door behind him. The moment he's out of earshot, Ben and Raoul roar with laughter. "Fine; we don't want you! You're no fun anyway!" Raoul says as we turn to leave.

Helen is already standing in the doorway as we walk into the bar. "Cal!" she exclaims, throwing her arms around me. I hear Ben and Raoul laughing as she kisses my lips; she smiles sheepishly as we break apart.

"Back so soon, fellas?" the barman greets us before I have time to reply. He turns to a younger man who is busy wiping a glass. "Barney, a round for the gentlemen!"

Ben strikes up a conversation with the barkeep, and a passing blonde catches Raoul's eye, leaving me alone with Helen. I can't help but notice the sadness in her eyes as they gaze into mine. "What is it?"

"Nothing. It's just…" Her head bows, but I can still see the tears in her eyes. "What if we never have another night like this? After next week, you'll have graduated, but I'll still be here for another three years and…" She tries to stifle a sob. "What if we never see each other again?"

I sigh as I pull her into my embrace. I've been worried about the same thing. "Helen… Helen, look at me." I cup her face so that her eyes meet mine. "That will never happen. We'll make it work, I promise."

"How?" she demands. "Our families will make it impossible."

"NO!" The unintended harshness of my tone startles her. "It'll be difficult but not impossible. I'll be working for my father soon. If I take charge of all the accounts here in Boston…" My voice trails off as I notice her blank, doubtful expression. I kiss her hair as I try again to assure her, "If nothing else, we'll still see each other at the holidays. I have an aunt in Pittsburgh, and-"

I'm interrupted as the door suddenly flies open, banging loudly against the wall. Dave bursts into the bar, looking wild-eyed and frantic. Ben glances up from his glass, but Raoul is still too busy with his girl-of-the-day to notice. "Dave?" I rise to greet him. "So you've finally decided to join us?"

Dave shakes his head. "There was a telegram delivered to our dormitory…" He hands me a small slip of paper and I read:

CAL-

UNCLE FRANK HAS DIED STOP FUNERAL TO BE HELD ON MONDAY STOP PLEASE COME HOME STOP

SIGNED-

AUNT REBECCA

I re-read the words in disbelief, but it's there in black and white. My uncle, who was more a father to me than my own ever was, is dead. I didn't even get to say goodbye to him… The paper crumples in my hand as I sink back into my chair. Ben suddenly yells for the barkeep; Raoul's girlfriend titters, but I let their voices wash over me. It's finally Helen's hand atop mine that jerks me out of my thoughts. "What is it?"

"My uncle…" I swallow hard; I can barely trust myself to speak. "He died…"

"No…" Helen gasps. I squeeze her hand back as her grip tightens.

"Mon dieu!" Raoul exclaims, making the little blonde on his lap stare blankly back at him.

Dave's head bows silently; Ben turns to me. "I'm sorry, Cal. I know how you-" His voice trails off as the look in my eyes silences him.

"The funeral's on Monday." I try to change the subject.

"But that's two days from now!" Raoul says.

"The same day as exams," Dave adds quietly.

"I know." I push my chair in as I get up.

"You can't go alone!" Ben rises from his chair as well. "I'll-"

"No," I cut him off. "You heard Dave; exams are on Monday." My voice drops. "It's not worth you flunking out of school…"

I grab my coat and hat from the nearby rack. Before I can reach the door, someone takes hold of my arm; I turn to meet Helen's bright blue eyes. "I'm coming with you."

I can't let her do that. What would her brother think of me? What would my father think of her if he knew she's a Chandler? "Helen, I don't think…" My voice trails off as I watch her eyes change.

"Ben's right," she whispers, brushing a stray lock of hair from my face. "You shouldn't have to face this alone…"

I start to argue with her again, but the look in her eyes makes me think better of it. Instead I sigh. "Alright…"

Most of my family is already gathered in the church yard by the time we arrive. I notice Helen's eyes darting to the graves nearby…my grandparents, my mother, my older brother Ciaran, and three of my cousins. "My God!" she gasps. "All these people were your family?" I nod, giving her hand an encouraging squeeze as she takes a deep shuddery breath.

Aunt Rebecca looks up from her handkerchief as she notices us approaching. Her dark gray eyes, so much like my father's, are so full of sadness as they meet mine. "There's my handsome nephew!" I feel a blush rise as she pats my cheek, and I drop my gaze. She's embarrassing me in front of Helen! "I hoped you'd be able to come…"

"Aunt Rebecca, I'm so sorry…" What a cliché and stupid thing to tell her! My mind berates me.

"Don't be," she replies gently, dabbing at her eyes. "It wasn't your fault. Frank was sick for a long time…" She turns away and nearly bumps into Helen. "Oh!" she exclaims. "Hello, dear."

"Aunt Rebecca, I'd like you to meet Helen." Helen stares as Aunt Rebecca extends a hand to her but allows her to give her arm a firm pump.

"I'm so sorry for your loss, Mrs-" Helen begins, but Aunt Rebecca cuts her off.

"Aunt Rebecca." Helen stares incredulously as she's corrected, and Aunt Rebecca gives her a small shaky smile. "Any friend of Cal's is family as far as I'm concerned."

"Are you sure it's proper for her to be here?" a familiar reproachful voice rises. I roll my eyes… Mary-Anne. My eldest living cousin approaches arm-in-arm with her husband, her five-year-old daughter practically running to keep up with them. Helen turns to me, looking affronted as Mary-Anne studies her.

"Hello, Mary-Anne." I have to work to keep the disdain out of my voice. "Long time, no see."

"Cal…" Her eyes shift as if waiting for something to happen. "Ahem…" I realize what she wants; I press her hand to my lips and her eyes soften slightly…until her daughter appears at her side panting and breathless. "Abigail!" she says sharply turning to the child. "Your hair looks a fright!" She smooths the little girl's blonde hair. "And stand up straight!" Abby stiffens, and our eyes lock as she glances up at me. Poor child… I almost feel sorry for her. "Abigail!" Mary-Anne continues scolding. "What are you supposed to do when a gentleman addresses you?"

Abby bobs into an awkward curtsey. "How do you do, Uncle Cal?"

"Did he speak to you?!" Mary-Anne demands furiously; Abby shakes her head. "Then hold your tongue! Children are to be seen and not heard."

"Abby-"

Mary-Anne's eyes suddenly flash. "My daughter's name is Abigail," she says stiffly, cutting me off.

I open my mouth to say something back but think better of it as I catch sight of Aunt Rebecca's expression. I clear my throat. "Right… my apologies."

Mary-Anne gives me a fake fawning smile as she straightens my tie. "Here, let me fix that for you." She tsks under her breath. "You really should've worn another tie; this one doesn't match."

How the hell can it not match? It's black, isn't it? I scoff, backing away. Doesn't she have more important things to worry about? Her father dies, and all she's concerned about is fashion… typical Mary-Anne!

Mary-Anne puts an arm around Aunt Rebecca, leading her away. I stare past her to my other cousin Sarah, standing far back and looking lost… dressed in black, her dark hair loose and spilling over her shoulders, her gray eyes shadowed and red-rimmed. I've never seen her so broken… Why wouldn't she be? A nasty voice in the back of my mind taunts me.

"Sarah…" Her name catches in my throat. She turns, and her eyes meet mine for a split second before the tears spill forth. She suddenly throws her arms around me as she bursts into sobs, but I don't have the heart to pull away. My hand entwines in her black hair as I peer past her, my eyes darting to the three graves beside her… James, Robert and Alice, my other cousins, Sarah's older siblings… all dead of illness these past eleven years. And now her father gone too!

Poor little Sarah… not yet seventeen and already she's seen more tragedy than most people three times her age! She sobs harder, and I pull her tighter to me as a wave of irrepressible sadness and pity crashes over me. I wish I could tell her just how sorry I am, that I know how it feels to lose a parent, but I can't find the words… I'm afraid that if I try to speak I'll burst into tears myself. She probably wouldn't believe me anyway… I know I didn't when my mother died.

Ahem! Someone coughs loudly, making me jump slightly. My father's dark gray eyes glare warningly at me as I look up, as if to say, Public displays of affection are not proper.

I reluctantly pull away from Sarah just as Helen appears at my side, taking my arm. My father's eyes soften slightly at the sight of her. "Father…" I hesitate. What if he knows who she is? "This is Helen…"

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Hockley," she says timidly.

He takes her hand in his own, pressing it to his lips. "The pleasure's all mine, Miss…"

Helen glances back at me. Don't tell him your real name, I try to warn her with my eyes. "Anthony." She finally says. "Helen Anthony."

"Who is she?" Her voice is dripping with disdain as her eyes narrow, surveying Sarah up and down.

"Helen, this is my cousin Sarah…" I try to give Sarah a gentle nudge toward Helen, but she doesn't budge… just stare blankly as Helen tries to stifle a giggle but fails miserably. I shoot her a warning look.

"Your cousin? My goodness! I thought she was-" Helen's voice trails off, and I start to catch on.

"You thought she was an old girlfriend of mine?" I finish for her; she nods. A chuckle escapes me. It seems so wrong to laugh at a time like this, but couldn't help myself!

Helen's face falls suddenly, and I immediately know why. I turn just in time to see Sarah's face crumple into tears, and my heart sinks. My God… she must think we were laughing at her or worse, at her father's death. "Sarah…" I reach for her but she pulls away. "Wait!" But it's too late; she's already gone.

I start after her and nearly bump into Reverend Mallard. "Ho! There'll be plenty of time for that after the service," he gently scolds, ushering us through the church door. He takes his place at the pulpit as the organ blares Amazing Grace. I've always hated that song. The only time I've ever heard it played is when somebody dies…

"Dearly beloved, we are gathered her today to mourn the loss of Francis Dorman…" I glance across the aisle at Sarah as Mallard begins. I try to force a sad smile, but she just glares icily at me. "Beloved husband, father, uncle…" And so much more than that, my mind silently adds.

Memories come rushing back as Mallard rambles on. I have to set my jaw and gaze skyward, blinking rapidly as tears threaten to fall. I can't let all these people see me fall apart… Father would scoff; Mary-Anne would fawn; Aunt Rebecca would worry, and Helen… My God! Helen… I had forgotten all about her by my side until just now.

Helen is sobbing into my chest by the time the service ends. I don't understand… she never knew Uncle Frank, so why should she cry for him? "I'm sorry." She says, wiping her eyes with the back of her gloved hand. "It's just…" Her tear-filled blue eyes meet mine. "I've never lost any of my family. I can scarcely imagine…" She gently places a hand over my heart, almost as if she can feel it breaking. "It must hurt so much…" Her voice is once again overtaken by sobs as she clings to me even tighter, so tight I can barely breathe… though that could also be from the sobs I'm choking back.

"Helen…" my voice trails off weakly. I don't know what to say. No one's ever loved me enough to weep for me before; I don't know whether to feel sorry or gratified. "Shh…" I brush a few stray drops from her cheek. I want to promise her I'll be all right, to say anything to comfort her, but I know better than to try to speak. I bury my face in her reddish-brown hair, my eyes tightly closed against my own tears, as we hold each other in voiceless misery.