OLIVIA
Chapter Two

Olivia reached behind herself and tightened the sash on her dress before turning to the full-length mirror again. It was white organza trimmed in lilac lace. It was one of her prettiest dresses, and she hoped Cal thought so, too.

There was a tap at her door, and then her mother, Constance, came in, smiling approvingly at her appearance.

"Very nice, Olivia. Mr. Hockley should be quite taken when he sees you."

"Do you really think so, Mother?"

"Yes, darling, I do." She nodded and took her hands. "Now, I want to talk to you before you go downstairs."

"All right, Mother," Olivia said as they sat on the trunk at the end of her bed.

"As you know, Mr. Hockley suffered a great loss when he lost his fiancée on the Titanic. It was a tragic thing, but he has managed to survive, and after a period of grieving, has asked to call on you. I think you should realize how fortunate you are to be in this position."

"Fortunate?"

"Yes, fortunate. He could have asked to call on any one of the very beautiful and eligible young ladies, but it was you he chose."

"I have thought of that, Mother, and I have a very good feeling about all of it. I’m sorry he lost Rose, but he has to think of his future, and I, for one, hope his future is with me."

"I was hoping to hear you say that, darling. Your father and I have discussed this, and Caledon Hockley is the kind of man we had envisioned for you. He’s everything a well-brought-up young man should be. Handsome, kind, well-traveled, and from a good family."

"I know you’re right, but still I wonder…"

"About what, Olivia?"

Olivia stood, walked back to the full-length mirror, and looked at herself again. She knew it might have seemed foolish, but she couldn’t help but compare herself to Rose. Rose might have been different, but there was no denying her beauty, and there was a certain glimmer about Rose that Olivia knew she didn’t have.

"What are you concerned about, darling?" Constance came up behind her.

"What if Cal doesn’t see me as he…well, as he saw Rose?"

Her mother smiled reassuringly at her. "Olivia, you need not compare yourself to Rose DeWitt Bukater. You are an exceptional person, and I’m sure Mr. Hockley will see this in you."

"I hope you’re right."

"I know I am. Now, we’ve kept him waiting long enough, so let’s go down, and remember, Olivia…you are a Barlow, and that makes you very, very special."

Feeling better about the situation, Olivia followed her mother across the spacious hallway and down the long spiral staircase. Just before they came to the parlor, her mother stopped at the door.

"I have a few things to check on and I’ll be in directly. Your father is already with Mr. Hockley, so you go on in. Don’t worry about anything, Olivia. You’ll be just fine."

Taking a deep breath after her mother walked away, she opened the door to the parlor and walked in. When she did, both her father and Cal got to their feet. She smiled when she saw him. He was just as handsome as she remembered. With his dark good looks and the gray wool suit that was tailored to fit him perfectly, he was the epitome of what she always thought the man of her dreams would be like.

"Well, there you are, Olivia!" her father boomed. "I thought we were going to have to send out a search party for you."

"Oh, Father." Olivia laughed and came further into the room.

"Miss Barlow." Cal smiled and bowed his head. "You look exceptionally lovely today."

"Thank you, Mr. Hockley." She felt warm tingles when he took her hand and kissed it.

"Your father and I were just discussing how beautiful your home is and how nice it would be to take a walk on your grounds. That is, if you would oblige me."

Her father’s chest protruded as he smiled broadly. "I think that’s a fine idea, and I’m sure Olivia would be more than happy to. Wouldn’t you, Olivia?"

Olivia blushed under her father’s enthusiastic response. "Of course I would."

"Shall we?" Cal lifted his arm toward her. When she stepped next to him, she lost her breath for just a moment. She so wanted this man to fall in love with her, and at that moment, she would have followed him anywhere.

They stepped out onto the patio and made their way down to the path. The sun shone brightly overhead and filtered through the trees above them. The crunch of the leaves beneath her feet was a comforting sound to her. She felt his arm warm and hard beneath her hand. She never wanted this moment to end.

"So, Olivia, your father tells me that you only made your debut at the beginning of the summer. You must have had many an invitation to only the best select parties."

"Yes, I have. It has been a wonderful time, but I’m just as happy to be here walking with you as at any party I’ve been to."

Cal stopped and stared down at her, a smile on his handsome features. "Sweet." Then something like a scowl came over his face, and she wondered if she had been too bold.

"I shouldn’t have said that."

He shook his head. "Nonsense. I apologize for making you uncomfortable. It wasn’t what you said. It was just a memory I had. A rather painful one."

"You mean about…Rose?"

A flash of darkness covered his face. but just as quickly it was gone. "Yes. I’m sorry for that. I shouldn’t have spoiled our afternoon."

"No, you didn’t. It’s quite all right. You cared for her, and I understand that."

Cal jutted his chin out and turned from her for a moment. "I thought she cared for me, too, but in the end…"

Olivia was at a loss for words. What was Cal saying? What had happened between he and Rose before her death? She suddenly felt like an intruder, and it was only the two of them there. Confused and unsure of what to do, she placed a hand on his arm. He glanced down at her and took a deep breath.

"Forgive me. This is no time for sad memories. Shall we return and have the delicious lunch your parents had prepared for us?"

She nodded, feeling better that his dark mood had disappeared. "Yes, that would be wonderful." She took his arm again as they made their way back to her home. The rest of the afternoon was splendid, and at the end of the day, she knew she had fallen in love with Caledon Hockley.

Chapter Three
Stories