A LIFE’S TRAGEDY
Chapter Eleven

We arrived back in Pittsburgh half a day later. Melissa and Catherine had kept up the act amazingly, but truly it wasn’t an act now. This was their life. They were a part of my life, my world now.

When the taxi pulled up in front of the house, Catherine reached for the door handle to the backseat.

I jerked my attention and glared at her. She looked at me, confused for a moment. Then the driver opened the door. She looked back at me. I smiled. I took Melissa by the hand, Catherine on my arm. I paid the man. Then we were off to meet my father. I knew I would be lectured for this, but that didn’t concern me then.

"This is my father, Nathan Hockley," I whispered to Catherine. "This is your home now."

She looked at me, almost scared. She spotted my father, wearing a gray evening suit and tie, standing on the porch. We slowly and politely made our way up the walk to him.

"Father, this is Catherine and Melissa de Louise," I introduced. He looked from me to Catherine, suspicion in his eyes.

"Mr. Hockley, it is a pleasure." She spoke with the utmost etiquette.

"The pleasure is mine." He bowed a little out of respect.

I looked at Catherine. I could see the nervousness, the concern in her eyes. She was not accustomed to these surroundings, I knew, but that was something I planned to teach her.

"Catherine, why don’t you take Melissa in and look around. Have Clare put some tea on," I said, hoping she would know I meant the head maid.

She nodded and politely took leave of us, walking into the grand house with an uneasy step.

"So, Caledon, do you mind telling me what this is all about?" he asked firmly.

I looked at him, almost angry that I, a grown man, would have to discuss my whereabouts all the time.

"Well, Father, you see, Catherine and I met in Southampton before boarding the Titanic," I started.

"So, she survived the Titanic also?" he asked.

"No," I blurted back absently. "I mean, she wasn’t on the ship. No."

He nodded, still suspicious.

"And the little girl? Is that her daughter?"

I nodded. "Yes, Catherine is the widow of a wealthy mine owner in France."

I secretly prayed that he wouldn’t realize my lie. Surely he would know de Louise was not a famous or well-known name, but he didn’t question her name any further.

"So, why is she here? And what of Erin? Her father is very angry," he said angrily.

"I don’t care about the Parkers," I spat back. "Catherine and I are getting married. She needs a husband, and I need a wife, as you’ve said before, sir."

"Well, it is true, but I don’t want to see you rushing into a marriage that will have no benefits. I’d like to know more about this late husband of hers," he said.

I think my jaw probably dropped. I had no idea what to say or do. She had no money, and if my father truly wanted to find out her background, he could.

"Believe me, I think like you, sir," I said. "I’ve thoroughly checked it out. It’s a great match, if I do say so myself."

Finally, he nodded. "Come. Let’s not keep the young ladies waiting."

I followed behind him into the parlor.

Catherine stared at a painting by Monet on the wall. Melissa sat politely in a velvet-backed chair.

I walked up behind her, putting a hand on her shoulder. "Sweetheart, won’t you come for some tea?"

She nodded, and I led her into the dining area of my home. I lived with my father again in this elegant and over-the-top house, a mansion, really.

I pulled her chair out as she seated herself, then helped Melissa up into her seat, as well. Her little legs barely reached the floor.

"Clare, I would like some brandy," my father said.

The maid went into the kitchen and reemerged with my father’s drink. Also on her tray were our china cups full of tea.

Catherine was obviously surprised by the fine china. I gave her a pleading look to act as though nothing were different. Melissa was probably handling it better than she was, anyway. I guess a child is just easier to teach.

"Tell me, Caledon, when do you plan to have the marriage ceremony?" my father asked.

"September twentieth, sir," I replied. It was nearly a month away. "But Catherine and her daughter will be moving their things in here right away."

"Ah…very good, son." He chuckled a bit. "And what a fine young lady to carry the Hockley name into a new generation with."

Catherine blushed a bit. "Well, thank you, sir."

I laughed. "No need to be modest, dear."

She smiled and sipped her tea.

"So, Caledon tells me you were in Southampton in April. When did you come back to America?" he asked, taking a sip of brandy.

I looked at her, waiting for her answer, which so clearly confused her. She thought quickly, and answered.

"I’m from Paris, Mr. Hockley. This is my first visit here since Richard passed on."

Her response was satisfactory to him. He neglected asking her anymore about the voyage here. I knew she definitely couldn’t speak of the Titanic. She would be on the survivor list, but under third class. That would have completely ruined my reputation. I had no intention of letting that happen.

"Well, if you’ll excuse me, I have a meeting in town," he said, politely standing and leaving the table.

Malcolm, his personal valet, followed him out the door. Clare brought out milk and cookies for Melissa.

"Mama, isn’t this great?" Melissa asked, chewing on a cookie politely.

"Mmm-hmm. Now, chew with your mouth closed." Catherine laughed, then turned to me. She mouthed the words thank you. I smiled and squeezed her hand reassuringly.

They were doing a lot better than I had planned on. How can two people leave steerage and come into this world of splendor? It was beyond me.

"Your house is wonderful, Cal. Truly it is." She smiled.

"You haven’t seen the rest of the house." I laughed, bragging a bit.

We sat there a few moments longer until the telephone rang.

"Mr. Hockley, it’s for you!" the maid called out.

"Excuse me," I said to Catherine.

She nodded. "Of course."

I walked to where Clare held the receiver. "Yes?" I asked into the receiver.

"Ruth! Hello. How are you?" I asked the moment I heard her voice.

"Mr. Hockley, I know this sounds absurd, but I am starting my own elegant clothing line. I was wondering if my company could take out a loan with you?" Rose’s mother asked.

"Why not ask a bank, Mrs. DeWitt Bukater?" I asked.

"Well, you see, this is really silly, but the banks claim my husband had unpaid debts. I know it isn’t true, and my lawyer is looking into it," she stated.

"All right, Ruth. I’ll discuss it with my father. He’s away on business right now."

"Thank you, Mr. Hockley," she said before hanging up.

I knew she was broke. I had known that for months now, but I always acted as though I didn’t.

When I walked back into the dining area, Melissa was begging her mother for something.

"Shh. Okay? Not another word about it," Catherine warned.

"What’s wrong?" I asked.

Melissa looked up at me. Finally, Catherine did, too. "It’s nothing, Cal."

"No. What is it?" I asked, trying to sound compassionate, though I was thoroughly confused.

"I want a puppy!" Melissa exclaimed.

I laughed out loud, not meaning to. "Is that all? You were that serious about a puppy?" I asked, looking at Catherine.

"Well, it’s just that you’ve been so kind to us already. I didn’t think we should bother you with trifling things," Catherine said.

I leaned down beside Melissa. "You want a dog, do you?"

She nodded slowly, as though she didn’t know how to answer, or was afraid to answer.

"Douglas!" I called out.

The butler appeared in the doorway. "Yes, Mr. Hockley?"

"Are you doing anything right now?" I asked.

"I’m filling in for Thomas today, sir," he answered.

"Well, forget about whatever it is you do. I want you to take young Melissa here into town," I ordered.

"Yes, sir. Where are we going, sir?"

"A kennel." I turned to Melissa. "Do you know what kind of dog you want?"

She shook her head. "Just as long as he’s cute."

"Cal, you don’t have to do this," Catherine spoke softly.

I waved a hand dismissively. I led Melissa over to the butler.

"Douglas, this is Melissa. Melissa, this is Douglas." I looked at Melissa. "See? Now you aren’t strangers." I knew she wouldn’t speak with strangers.

I handed the butler a roll of bills. I looked at him sternly. "I trust she’ll find the dog she wants."

"Yes, sir. Of course, sir." He took Melissa’s hand. "Come on, dear."

"Thank you, Mr. Hockley," Melissa said before Douglas gently closed the door behind them.

Catherine walked over to me. "You really shouldn’t have done that. You’ll spoil her."

"That’s the idea." I laughed. "Come. I have to show you your room."

She took my arm as I led her up the steps. "This is my father’s room." I pointed to the room at the end of the long corridor. "This will be Melissa’s room." We stopped to look inside.

It was the smallest of the bedrooms, but completely decorated. A canopy bed sat in the corner, pink lace hanging from the four posts. Flowered wallpaper covered the walls.

"It’s amazing, Cal," she said.

"I know." I smiled, taking her by the arm again. "This is my room." I pointed to the black and gold polished door across the hall.

She nodded. "Well, that may come in handy when I have a nervous breakdown." She laughed. So did I.

"And this, my dear," I said, opening the door across from mine, "is your room."

She stepped past me into the room. Silk and velvet covered the bed. The bed was also a canopy, but bigger than the child’s, of course. Plush white carpeting covered the entire floor.

I had only been in this room on a couple of occasions, but my father insisted every bedroom be kept up, and so our hired help did so.

I walked in front of Catherine, her hand clasped to her mouth. I placed my hands on her shoulders. She looked at the drapes, then at the bed, then the rich furniture.

"This is overwhelming," she said finally. "I don’t know how I could ever get used to this."

I led her to the divan in the corner. We sat together, her hands in mine. "You’ll get used to it, Catherine. There’s nothing in the world now that cannot be yours. Anything you want. I won’t deny you anything."

"Cal, you’ve already been too kind," she said nervously, fidgeting with the ring on her finger.

Finally, I decided to ask her about the Titanic, where she had been, everything I had been wondering about for four months.

"Why did you leave Melissa on the Titanic?" I asked, looking into her eyes.

"I didn’t want to. I went to try to help someone."

"Who?" I asked.

"It doesn’t matter," she said. "There were just so many people I wanted to help. Some being Tommy and Fabrizio, my friends. Another being the first class pregnant woman’s husband."

"John Astor?" I asked.

She shrugged. "Maybe. I don’t really know. I saw him walk back in. I followed him to the first class area. I’m not sure what it was. There was a big dome in the ceiling."

I nodded. "Go on."

She appeared to almost have tears in her eyes. "I looked down and saw another gentleman sitting in a dinner jacket while the water rose up around him. I called down to him, but he didn’t listen. Then that John Astor wouldn’t come with me, either. He only stared at me, as if to ask ‘Why are you here?’ I was surprised anyone would care about my class then."

"Well, you don’t know society very well," I said. "Remember, I couldn’t even stand to be with you in steerage."

She nodded sadly. "Anyway, when I got back to the deck, I couldn’t find Melissa. I prayed and prayed that she was all right. I couldn’t find Fabrizio or Tommy anywhere. My heart ached. I wanted it to just be over."

"They didn’t make it?" I asked.

She shook her head no.

"Well, what happened? How did you get on the Carpathia if the boats were all gone?" I asked.

"Two of my friends led me to the stern. We stayed together, staying on the ship as she sank beneath us."

"My God," I whispered. I remembered how the stern had risen higher and higher, and the despair I had felt at that moment.

"I and one of my two friends wore lifebelts. As the suction pulled us down, the lifebelts helped keep us afloat." She took a deep breath, fighting back tears.

I continued to listen carefully. "What happened?" Her story fascinated me. I had gotten off safely with her child, while she nearly froze in the Atlantic.

"My friend found a piece of wood that she could lay on, while my other friend and I stayed in the water. Every attempt either of us made to get on with her made the debris start to sink. So, we had no choice but to stay in the icy water," she said sadly. "My body was dreadfully numb. I couldn’t feel anything. I thought I would surely die. As the voices got quieter, I grew weaker, but eventually the boats did return. She was the first to be saved from the water. Then I was brought aboard Boat 12. We huddled together like two sisters who had lost their mother. It wasn’t until the Carpathia arrived did we come to realize that the other friend had survived, as well. She had thought he was dead. He must have been unconscious."

I took her up in a loving embrace. "I’m sorry you had to go through that. Where are your friends now? I must thank them for staying with you."

"That’s not necessary," she whispered.

"Why not?" I demanded. "Catherine, you and the other two were so brave. I couldn’t have done that. I was selfish. I used Melissa to save my own skin. You three deserve such a great amount of respect."

"Believe me, Cal, it isn’t necessary. They know they were brave. They know I thank them. You don’t have to tell them."

She looked nervous suddenly. She pulled away from me slightly.

"Is there something you need to tell me, sweetheart?" I asked.

She shook her head.

"Catherine, don’t lie to me," I demanded, my voice rising slowly. Then I realized something I had forgotten about until that moment there in Catherine’s new room. "Where did you get the money to start your dress shop?"

She looked at me, tears in her eyes. "I made dresses, of course."

"How could you make them with no money, dear?" I asked, trying to restrain my anger. I knew she was hiding something.

She sighed, as if in defeat. "Cal, if I tell you this, I don’t know how you will react. I’ve seen your temper."

It hurt that she would think this way, but I went along with her.

"I’ll be even more angry if you do not tell me now!" I demanded.

"Fine. Have it your way. Ruin everything." She spat back. "A friend gave it to me. I should say you gave it to me."

She stared into my eyes, and I into hers. "What do you mean?"

"The money in your coat, Cal. The one you put on Rose," she said, almost shouting.

"Rose?" I asked. "Rose is alive? She was your friend?"

Now I knew Rose had fallen for a steerage man and also befriended a third class woman. I was completely appalled.

"She was the woman on the board, then?" I asked.

She nodded slowly.

"Who was the man?" I demanded.

She looked away from me. "Cal, I--look, it’s not important."

"Who, Catherine?" I asked again. "Who was the other friend?"

She took a deep breath. "Jack Dawson, but Cal--" she started.

I jumped to my feet. "Dawson is alive?" I shouted. "Why didn’t you tell me this?"

"I love you, Cal. I couldn’t," she said. "She loves him, Cal. She even says her name is Rose Dawson. She is in no way connected to you. No one ever has to know that she left you. Just leave them alone. They’ve gone to live in his hometown, and they are happy. Let them get on with their lives, and you with yours."

"So, they are in Chippewa Falls, are they?" I asked.

She looked a bit surprised that I would know. Finally, she nodded.

"Where’s the diamond?" I demanded finally. I knew Rose had given her the money. She must have kept the diamond.

"I don’t know anything about a diamond," she answered. I could see in her eyes that she spoke the truth.

I turned to leave.

"Where are you going? What are Melissa and I supposed to do?" she demanded.

"Stay here. I merely wish to pay a visit to Mr. Dawson," I said politely.

I, of course, had no intention of harming him. After all, where would that get me? Certainly not back with Rose. Everything had been ruined there. Even Ruth believed her daughter was dead.

I knew I couldn’t have her, but I’d be damned if I’d let Dawson have her. I loved Catherine. You have to understand that. Rose was a triumph, my property, whom Jack had intended on stealing. I couldn’t let that happen.

I turned to leave, angry, betrayed, and feeling utterly lost again.

"Wait, Cal," she spoke up. I turned back to her.

"What?" I asked.

"Don’t go all the way to Wisconsin. They aren’t there right now," she said, staring off into space.

I walked back over to her. "Where are they, then?" I asked. She wouldn’t even look up at me. "Look at me, dear," I said through gritted teeth.

Finally, she did. "They‘ll be in Philadelphia tomorrow. They left Chippewa Falls to come visit me." She sighed.

"Why didn’t you tell me this sooner, dear?" I asked, still thoroughly annoyed, of course.

"Cal, they are happy. Why can’t you just be happy?" she asked.

It hurt me deeply to hear her say these words to me.

"Why can’t you just be happy with me? Rose doesn’t have anything more than I do, save the manners and good upbringing."

I sat back down beside her. "Nothing, all right? But I cannot let that beggar, that poor excuse for a man, defeat me."

"Why is that so important to you?" Catherine countered.

I didn’t answer. I only stared at her.

"Forget your pride, Cal," she spoke softly.

"Excuse me," I said, standing. I walked to the doorway, then turned back to her. "You’ll go with me, keep your meeting with them. Won’t they be surprised when they see you?" I motioned to her nice clothes and beautiful diamond ring. "We’ll leave right after dinner."

"What about Melissa?" she asked.

"I’ll hire someone to come stay with her," I said. "Now, if you’ll excuse me."

I closed the door behind me, leaving her alone in that strange new room. I went across the hall to my room. I stood before the mirror, running a comb through my hair.

Then I realized we would have to stay the night in Philadelphia. So, I picked out a black suit and tie, packing them ever so neatly in a suitcase. Then I went down the hall to what had once been Rose’s room. I went to her old wardrobe, taking out a red and black taffeta gown and the matching high-heeled shoes.

I brought them back to my room and neatly placed them in the suitcase, as well. Then I heard the downstairs door open, my father speaking to Douglas, and a puppy barking softly.

I walked across the hall. "Catherine, we have to go to dinner."

A few moments later, she opened the door. We walked down the stairs arm-in-arm.

"Look at the puppy, Mama." Melissa held the dog up for her mother and I to see.

"Very cute, dear," Catherine answered.

"Come. Let’s get some dinner, shall we?" my father spoke up. Melissa released the dog and was escorted to the kitchen to tidy up before going to the table.

Again my mind went back to the Titanic when the chef brought out the lamb. Would I be haunted with visions of the Titanic forever? I asked myself many times. I didn’t know then.

"So, what are your plans for tomorrow, son?" my father asked as he cut his lamb with a sharp silver knife.

"Catherine and I are going to Philadelphia. She has some friends she’d like to visit." I looked at Catherine.

"What about me?" Melissa spoke up. "Can I go?"

"Well, no, Melissa. You have to stay and care for your new puppy," I said, trying to sound compassionate.

"Well, have fun, Catherine. It’s always good to keep in touch with friends," my father said, looking at Catherine. She nodded politely.

After dinner and champagne, Douglas drove us to the train station. It wasn’t a long wait before the train departed. We only had one suitcase, so that wouldn’t be a problem, I knew.

I rented us two rooms at the most luxurious hotel in downtown Philadelphia. The following morning, we met in the hall. She was absolutely stunning wearing Rose’s dress. Her hair was pulled back, pearls threaded through it.

I stood close to her so she could hear my instructions. Several finely dressed men and women passed us, bowing their heads in respect. I, of course, was used to this treatment. She was not. Not yet, at least.

"All right, so you’ll go there. Don’t mention me. Of course, they are bound to ask about your attire and the ring. That’s when I’ll come. I have a few things to say to Mr. Dawson," I said to her.

She nodded her head, though she looked thoroughly against this.

"How long have you known Mr. Dawson, anyway?" I asked as we walked out of the hotel, walking towards the park where she was to meet them.

"Several years, actually. He was about fifteen or so when Melissa was born. He used to help watch her while I designed the dresses." She spoke softly.

I hadn’t realized they were that close. "And what about Rose?"

"You remember that night I left you the first note?" she asked.

I nodded, remembering that angering night all too well.

"I met her at that party. Jack introduced us. I thought she was beautiful in her dinner gown and jewels. I wished I looked like her. I wished I was her. In a way, I was jealous. I was attracted to Jack, I won’t lie about that. I’m not that much older than him, really. I was sixteen when I gave birth to Melissa, but then Rose came prancing down from first class like she owned everything, including Jack," she said.

I was shocked. She had admired Jack, as well? What was it about Jack? When I thought about it, I got so angry. I still do.

"If you disliked her so, why did you befriend her?" I asked.

I pulled her out of the way of a mud puddle she hadn’t noticed.

"She was really nice. And Jack was so happy," she said, almost in a dream world.

I looked at her for a long moment as we continued to walk. She pointed to a park. "There it is."

"All right," I answered. At the gates, she released my arm, walking deep into the park as I trailed behind.

"Catherine?" I heard a shocked voice come from a woman seated on a bench. I continued to stay back, out of their sight. "That looks like my dress!"

"Yes, Rose, it‘s me. Good to see you again. Really? I just got this yesterday." She laughed, taking my Rose in an embrace.

"God, look at you." A man stood, holding a new leather binder as he drew nearer to Catherine. I saw that it was Jack, alive and well. Both of them.

They all sat at a little wooden table, Jack looking right at home, Catherine looking out of place in her fine clothes, and Rose looking so incredibly different without her fine clothes.

They laughed and smiled. I continued to watch, almost wishing I could be a part of that friendship. Three friends who had been through hell and back regaling each other with their good times together.

Rose sat beside Jack, looking happier than I had ever seen her. She looked carefree, and Jack--had I ever looked upon him so fondly before? I didn’t think so.

Rose leaned back and kissed him on the lips, a moment I thought I would hate to see come, but I was fine. I wasn’t angry, exactly. I still felt defeated, though, and that angered me.

"So, anyway, I think we’ve chewed over just about everything," Jack said, "except these new clothes, and God, look at that ring." He picked up Catherine’s hand.

Then Rose examined it, the blue diamond obviously bringing back memories to her.

"So, are you engaged or something?" Rose asked, smiling.

"Maybe," Catherine teased.

"Oh, come on. Look," Jack said, picking up Rose’s hand. "You knew about this."

I saw the sunlight glistening off a ring on Rose’s finger. I swallowed back my pride.

"True. All right. I’m engaged." She laughed.

Rose gasped, a huge smile on her face.

"No way," Jack said. "To who?"

"Can’t tell you that," Catherine replied, doing exactly as I had told her, but now I had seen Rose. Seen her happiness. I had seen Dawson, seen his love for Rose. He loved her in a true, passionate way, which I never had. Maybe it was the tragedy at sea, maybe it was the affair with the third class woman, maybe it was realizing defeat. Whatever it was, it had changed me.

"Come on! Just tell us! Look at your clothes and this ring. You look amazing. Who’s the man who’s doing this for you?" Rose asked, her hand on Catherine’s hand.

"I’m sorry, my friends, but I cannot tell you," she answered.

They both sighed with disappointment.

I started to walk to them.

"She can’t," I called out. "But I can. It’s me."

Jack stood, as if ready to fight. I held a hand up, telling him to stay there. I quickly made my way to them. I stood behind Catherine. Jack stood, staring me in the eyes.

"Cal?" Rose asked, surprised, staring up at me.

"Yes, sweetpea," I replied.

"Cal, whatever you’re planning to do, don’t try it. She’s not even using her name anymore," Jack threatened.

"Oh, yes. Rose Dawson, is it?" I laughed, looking at Rose.

"Cal, leave me alone. I can’t believe you’d use our friend just to find us," she said. "Why did you tell him I was alive, Catherine?"

"I’m not using her. And come now, Rose. I would have found out sooner or later," I replied.

"Cal, what do you want?" Jack asked.

"Nothing, Jack. Only to congratulate you." I held my hand out to him. He stared at me hard. "Come on, Jack. I understand everything. You love Rose." I smiled at Rose. "In a way that I never could. So, I hope you’re happy together."

He looked at me skeptically. "What’s the catch, Cal?"

"No catch. Just accept my apology and get it over with already." My voice rose a little.

Finally, he took my hand in a firm shake. "Good. Come, sweetheart."

"I’m not going with you, Cal!" Rose spat.

I looked down at Catherine.

"I wasn’t hired to come here. I am marrying Cal," Catherine said.

Rose and Jack exchanged surprised glances. "Come along, Catherine. We have to get our train."

She stood, along with Rose. They embraced as they said good-bye.

"I guess we both end up winning, Jack, one way or another." I smiled, shaking Jack’s hand again.

Jack still looked amazed, but he nodded anyway. As we walked away from them, I didn’t feel defeated anymore. I felt like I had won. Rose wasn’t meant for me, nor I for her. I had finally accepted that.

Of course, I often thought back to Rose, to the Titanic, where I had felt a love for her. Often I would think of my hatred towards Jack, my pride, which had made me do the craziest things.

But after that day in the park, I felt relatively at peace. Catherine and I immediately returned home. I taught her everything she would need to know in the wealthy world, everything she would need to know in her new life.

Chapter Twelve
Stories