ALL I NEED
Chapter Nineteen
"What is this?" I asked
with a smile as I reached the parlor in our mansion. I set my eyes on Larry,
who was waiting for me, playing something on the beautiful black piano in the
center of the room.
"This is Mozart, my
dear." He smiled, finishing the melody as I entered the room. "You
look a lot happier than yesterday when I met you."
"Thanks to you, right?"
I asked with a confident smile, approaching him at the piano. "I didn't
know you were a musician."
"I'm not," he said
simply, shaking his head to the side to make his dark hair fly away from his
brown eyes. "It's a hobby, mostly."
"You play beautifully. I
could hear it from upstairs," I said, stopping beside the piano and
watching him. "My mother used to play when Cal and I were still young, but
with time she became so bitter that not even music could sweeten her."
"Music sweetens you."
He smiled fondly, looking into my eyes.
I analyzed him for a moment.
Larry, in the one day that we'd known each other, had become the brother that I
always looked for in Cal. He was kind, sweet, and he cared about me even though
he didn't know that much about me. Yesterday, when he picked me up at the park
after my encounter with Harry, he stated that he was happy to see me happy,
something that Cal never cared about, or at least never showed.
"What are we doing
today?" I asked with a grin. Since yesterday, I'd been smiling more than
usual. Harry said he still loved me and he would find a way to keep me with
him. I trusted him.
"Well, as you know, he is at
the hearing," Larry said thoughtfully. "But he asked me this morning
to take you away from your house, because that is what makes you sad." He paused,
looking at me, and I nodded. Harry was right, as always. "So, I thought we
could go for ice cream. How do you like that? Then we can have lunch together
and then we can meet him later."
"Sounds wonderful." I
smiled, excited. "Shall we?" I gestured to the door.
"Have you talked to your
mother yet?"
"She's outside." He
stood up and took my arm gently, leading me outside the house.
We walked towards the small open
area of the house that had summer chairs and couches, with a small table and
some plants and flowers around. There was my mother with the wedding planner,
Mrs. Knott. She looked up at us as we approached and smiled.
"Did you come to join us?
Good afternoon, Larry." She managed a nod.
"Mrs. Hockley." He
nodded back.
"No, Mother. Larry was kind enough
to ask me to have lunch with him. I believe you don't need me now?"
My mother looked at Mrs. Knott,
who gestured to her that we could go. Then she looked at Larry, sort of
measuring him from head to toe. He must have noticed that, because he looked at
me with an embarrassed smile.
"Of course. Go on," my
mother said at last, and with no more words, I left with Larry.
*****
"So, what's your
favorite?" Larry asked as I looked at the selection of ice cream, touching
the glass with my gloved finger. "Chocolate, I bet."
"How do you know?" I
stopped, looking at him. He smiled, amused.
"Well, what would it be? You
look like...a chocolate kind of girl." He laughed, and I giggled back.
What was that supposed to mean?
"Well, you're right. I don't
know what about me is...chocolate." We both laughed hard and people stared
at us, so we tried to stifle our laughter. "But yes, I love chocolate ice
cream."
"So," Larry started as
he sat in the chair across the table from where I was waiting for him, already
with my order. "How is it, chocolate girl?"
"Very good, vanilla
boy." I looked at his vanilla ice cream and he laughed. "You know a
lot about me and I know so little about you. Why don't you tell me?"
"Hmm…all right." He
took a spoonful and looked into my eyes. "I was born in Hannibal,
Missouri, like my mother. When I was fifteen, I moved to New York to live with
my uncle, my father's brother, to study. After finishing high school, I went to
Harvard in Cambridge. I went to the brand new business school, and graduated last
year."
"That seems exciting."
"Well, yes, a little,"
he said after another spoonful. "I graduated a few months after I turned
twenty-five. You know how you look back and you sort of start wondering if it
was worth it? I mean, if this is what you really want to do?"
"I know all about
that," I said with a grin, but I was serious. "The difference here is
that you can choose for yourself. I can't."
"Of course you can," he
said confidently. "It's harder for you, I know, being a girl from a
wealthy, traditional family, but you can still do what you want."
"It's not that easy. Surely
your mother told you about my situation with Harry..."
"Yes." He nodded.
"It's difficult for both of you in this case. He doesn't want to hurt you
in any way and you don't want to hurt him, but both of you will get hurt anyway
if you choose for yourselves. But that's how life is, Cathy. There are little
sacrifices that need to be made if you want to be happy. It's a myth that
happiness is all about happiness. It isn't. But there are ways that you can be
happier, and that is when you choose what your heart tells you."
"And why didn't you choose
what your heart told you, then?" I kept my eyes on his.
"Because I couldn't, and
still can't, understand what my heart tells me." He looked away from my
eyes, thoughtfully watching the people on the street passing by.
I knew what my heart was telling
me--it was telling me to be with Harry, but my mind was telling me to do
otherwise. I remembered Harry saying to me to act with my heart. He was acting
with his heart. He was acting with his heart right then, trying to find a way
for us to be together. Hopefully, his heart would make my heart stronger than
my mind.
*****
It was just past noon and I was
leaving the ice cream parlor with Larry to meet with Harry at the park, but
somehow our plans were interrupted.
"Mr. Brown!" a male
voice that I recognized immediately called from behind us as we walked down the
sidewalk. I froze. It was Mr. Henderson.
"Mr. Henderson." Larry
smiled, turning around, but not before shooting a confident look at me.
"What a surprise." Tell me about it.
"Catherine." Mr.
Henderson leaned over me, kissing my cheek. I tried to keep my sweet smile on.
Apparently it worked. "You look lovely."
"Thank you." I nodded,
looking away from his eyes.
"I see you finally got her
out. Congratulations, young man. She needed a friend, didn't she?" Mr.
Henderson asked, looking from Larry to me. Larry looked at me for a second and
nodded.
"Yes, Catherine is like a
sister to me now," Larry said, grinning.
"So, perhaps you could join
us for dinner tonight," Mr. Henderson said, also with a grin. "I'm
sure she will be happy if you come with us." He looked at me, and I,
distracted, nodded.
"Yes, of course. It will be
a pleasure." Larry nodded, a little uncomfortable. I doubted he would find
dinner with Henderson a pleasure. Nobody could possibly find it a pleasure.
"It's settled, then. Surely
you know where Le France is?" Mr. Henderson asked, and Larry nodded.
"At six, then. We will see you there. It will be interesting to have a
Harvard graduate with us, won't it, Catherine?"
"Yes, an honor." I
nodded with a grin as Larry shot a bored look at me.
"I'm heading to your house
now. I could take you, unless you were going somewhere else," Mr.
Henderson said, gesturing to his car in front of the ice cream parlor.
I looked at Larry. This could be
dangerous. Henderson knew where we were. I didn't trust him, and apparently
neither did Larry, because he also had a concerned look on his face.
"Yes. Actually, it's good of
you to take her home. I have a meeting with a...friend." He looked intently
at me. He was talking about Harry. "I must make sure he doesn't stay
waiting too long." He would tell him I wasn't able to go.
"Very well, then." Mr.
Henderson smiled, taking my arm gently from Larry’s. "We will see you
later."
"Of course." Larry tipped
his hat and took my free hand, kissing it with a confident look as if trying to
tell me that he would take of everything. "Miss Hockley."
"I will see you, Mr.
Brown," I said politely, and with that, Henderson took me to his car,
telling the driver to head to my house.
*****
I didn't exactly know why, but I
always felt uncomfortable when I was left alone with Mr. Henderson. As the car
started to move and the silence settled between us, I felt like screaming at
the top of my lungs to get away from him. He never disrespected me, but I still
definitely didn't enjoy alone time with him.
"I like that boy," he
said suddenly, cutting the silence, and I looked at him. "He had excellent
grades at Harvard. I'm thinking of hiring him, perhaps. What do you
think?"
"Uh..." I wasn't
expecting the question. "I don't know, really. He...well, you would have
to ask him of his interests now. I'm not sure if he is interested in the real
estate business."
"But of course he has to be
interested in the real estate business," Mr. Henderson said, almost in
shock. "It's the most promising business nowadays."
I tried not to roll my eyes and
looked away from him. This would be a very long ride to my house. I could hear
him talking about the real estate business non-stop as I watched the streets
outside. Oh, Harry. Hurry! Save me!