Tendrils of steam danced across the surface of the bath water, realized they were limitless, and rose into the air like spirits on their way to heaven. Leaning his head back against the porcelain rim of the tub, Cal closed his eyes and let out a long, exhausted breath. As he reclined and reflected on the events of the day, Cal realized that for the first time since the sinking, this moment of calm wasn't overcome by thoughts of Titanic. Apparently, a dinner with his family was enough to rival a catastrophe at sea.
Not that it hadn't gone well. His father joined them and though he didn't speak to Evelyn or Cal, he didn't rehash their argument or cause a scene. Cal could live with the silent treatment, he supposed, though he knew something else was coming. Anne, the miracle worker that she was, had succeeded in getting her husband to the table. Even after swearing the child wouldn't stay in his house or take his name, Nathan Hockley said nothing as she sat with their family and shared their food. As far as Cal could tell, Evelyn remained oblivious to any hostility her grandfather felt toward her and, so long as she wasn't made to feel unwanted, that technically made the night a success. But Cal knew his father, and he knew no matter what Anne said to coax his civility, Nathan had some plan or scheme in mind to end up on top.
Though the warm water worked at the tension in his muscles, it did little to relax the worry in his mind and Cal wondered if this newly constant concern for his daughter's safety and happiness would ever go away. Thunder rumbled in the distance as Cal recalled his mother's remark about parenthood and he thought of Cora and how effortless she made everything seem. Seeing her with her children and just being close to their happiness gave Cal hope that, perhaps with time, it would get easier.
When his younger sister entered the drawing room that evening, she brought joy and laughter with her. One tear of relief was shed but as quickly as it appeared it was just as swiftly wiped away and replaced with a brilliant smile. Knowing her brother was alive and well, Cora swept into action, shining her motherly affection on her new niece and introducing her to her sons. Albert, the seven-year-old, was polite to his new cousin but was more interested in showing his toy soldiers to his grandfather. Percy, however, who was only five, hugged Evelyn when they met and stayed by her side for the rest of the evening. Seeing the children's instant connection, Cora insisted they schedule play outings once a week to encourage their friendship and help Evelyn feel more at home in the family.
So many things had gone well, and Cal wished he could just focus on that. But the underlying tension of his father's disapproval permeated the gathering and kept Cal on edge the entire night.
After the children were put to bed, Cal opted to join his mother and sister for some much-needed advice. Nathan shot his son a look of contempt before retreating for a brandy and cigar with Cora's husband Oscar. No longer in his father's presence, Cal's rigid posture loosened for the first time that night. For several hours he let his guard down, talking openly with the women of his family about the accident, losing Rose, finding Evelyn and wondering what the hell he was supposed to do now. Cal left out the gruesome details to spare them their nerves and chose to omit the extent of his shameful behavior to salvage what remained of his dignity. His mother and sister were his safe harbor and Cal would do almost anything to preserve that security and not be lessened in their regard.
As always, they gave Cal their unconditional support and encouragement. Anne asked about the funeral, Cora recommended an elocutionist to help Evelyn regain her voice and her confidence, and both women did what they could to answer Cal's unending list of questions.
Exhausted as he had been when he finally left them, Cal's mind was too active to sleep, so he drew a bath, dimmed the lights and listened to the approaching storm. By the time it reached the house, his bath water had grown cold, and the seductive pull of dreamless sleep called to him from the adjacent bedroom.
Cal exited the tub, dried off and retrieved the bottoms of his pajamas. The sound of the rain hitting the window was loud enough to drown out the gurgle of bathwater escaping down the drain. There was a sudden crack followed by an almost immediate boom as nearby thunder shook the house and caused the electric sconces to flicker and die. Cal took the blackout as a sign to go to sleep. So, putting off a much-needed shave for the morning, he made his way to bed.
The storm must have been directly above them, given how frequent the thunder was. Its noise and the constant flashes of lightning were almost distracting. But as soon as Cal leaned back and felt the cool, soft embrace of the mattress, his breathing slowed, his eyelids fluttered shut and his awareness of his own body gradually slipped away.
There was a click from the door latch, a creak from the hinge at it slowly swung open and a familiar sniffle that instantly pulled Cal back to consciousness. He sat up, and peering through the darkness found Evelyn, her little hand clutching the doorknob as her wide, tear-filled eyes panned the shadowy bedroom. When they landed on him, she cried out and bolted toward him.
"Papa!" Evelyn sobbed, her little slippered feet shuffling quickly across the floor. Cal threw back the covers and went to her, kneeling by the nightstand as she jumped into his arms.
"Sweetheart, what is it? Are you okay?" He asked, pulling back to examine her. Evelyn's hair was a mess, and Cal pushed her mop of curls away from her face to see her clearly. In the dark it was hard to tell if anything was amiss, but the lightning flashed again, then a second time, followed by a third, and with every strike and boom of thunder, Evelyn jumped, burying her face in Cal's neck as she cried with fear.
"Is it the storm?"
Evelyn nodded, gripping his neck too tightly. Cal grimaced and carefully pulled her arms away so he could face her again. Taking a handkerchief from the nightstand he wiped the tears and snot from her face. "There's nothing to be afraid of. We're safe and dry inside. The storm will pass soon and then you can go back to sleep."
"I want to stay with you." She said, hiccupping on every word.
"I'll take you back to your room and wait with you until its over."
"No, here! You'll just leave again."
"I'm not going anywhere, sweet pea. But you have your own bedroom and I have mine. We're just down the hall from each other, it's okay."
Another wave of thunder brought on another wave of tears. Cal sighed and pulled her close for a hug, rubbing her back until her crying calmed. Too tired to try and negotiate, Cal lifted Evelyn into his arms, closed the door and returned to his bed.
Setting her down, he said, "You can stay, but only for tonight, understand?"
Evelyne nodded profusely and quickly burrowed under the large comforter.
"You can't sleep in the middle," he said tiredly, "there's no room left for me. Scooch over. That's your side." Sitting down himself, Cal readjusted his pillow, moving it to the far left of the mattress. Had he been more awake, he might have questioned the situation or pushed harder to send her back to her room. But exhaustion and a lack of patience for dealing with the tears and bargaining that would take made him compliant.
"Are you comfortable?" Cal asked, his voice low. Evelyn sniffled and nodded yes, the top of her head barely visible from under the covers. "Alright then. Go to sleep. The thunder is already moving away."
Right as he said it another bellow shook the house and suddenly Evelyn was at his side, hugging his arm and burying her face in the pillows.
"It's alright." He whispered, rubbing soothing circles on her shoulder. "You're safe. I'm here."
The thunder continued for a while, but Evelyn had stopped crying. After a few minutes her grip loosened and her breathing became steady. Cal could hardly keep his own eyes open, lulled to sleep by the pattering rain, the retreating storm and the comfort of having someone beside him.