You Never Asked

"Hi Mom."

"Hi baby.” 

"What are you thinking about?"

"I was remembering my last night as a Penderton. It was a lot like this. Your grandmother was in the kitchen, recalling her last day as a Dumond. Our wedding, mine and your dad's, was a society event, too, mostly because of the Cabots."

"Do you remember how many?"

"Gosh, three hundred, maybe four."

"I overheard that they're expecting over seven hundred at the reception and dinner. There could've been a lot more, but apparently Barbara Fischer drew the line."

"I remember the first weeks and months after our wedding. It took a while for me to get used to being Erica Cabot. But I could tell the difference the very first day. The name Cabot did things for me that Penderton never did, never could. I was a Cabot. It didn't seem to matter that it was by marriage. I was a Cabot in the truest sense of the name. Everyone knew me as William Cabot's wife, but everyone treated me like a Cabot. William Cabot's wife. It took a while for me to be someone other than her, but eventually I became Erica Cabot, my own name, my own identity, my own reputation."

"Is that what I'm gonna be at the start, Mom? Davison Cahill's wife?"

"You're moving away from where people know Carla Cabot. You're moving to Texas where they know him but don't know you...yet. For a while, they'll know you as Davison Cahill's wife. Don't let it bother you. He won't let that go on for long. I've seen the kind of man he is. Plus, I know you, Bri. You're not a wallflower. You'll make friends in Texas, build your own reputation."

"I wonder how many twenty year-olds there can be there."

"Bri, you'll build relationships and friendships by your experiences, not your age, at least not just. You're about to be a wife. Soon enough, you'll be a mom. Those are the kinds of common experiences that will draw you and other people together, way more than the fact that you're twenty."

"How old will they be?"

"Probably somewhere between Kate and Rachel, mid-20's to 30. You’re an overachiever.”

"Davison said neighbors in Texas are different from neighbors here. He said you meet your neighbors there walking the dogs, jogging through the neighborhood, cookouts and pool parties, going to the gym or the mall. Something funny?"

"I'm sorry, Bri. I'm just trying to picture you at the gym."

"I know, not my thing.”

"You'll make your own friends, Carla. You'll still be Mrs. Davison Cahill but you won’t be just Mrs. Davison Cahill. You’ll be Carla Cahill. You know what I mean. Find other women with common interests and common experiences. I say find them, you won't have to look hard. We tend to be very social creatures. Tomorrow, you’ll join the married club. It’s going to be immensely different from your relationship with your friends, even with Mandy and Emily. All of them, they’ll guess or imagine about what it’s like to be married. But you…you’ll know. Just remember, things don’t just happen, you have to make them happen. You're about to be a wife. It's a wonderful experience and I wouldn't trade it for anything. Carla, you're going to meet some people who will know nothing about you other than your age and assume that you're a trophy wife. It's going to happen, I hope not often, but it's going to. You're not one of those. You know it, Davison knows it. Eventually, they’ll come to know it, too. When your father and I were first married, some people who'd known me as Erica Penderton sort of looked down on me. To them, marrying into the Cabot name was somehow cheating, made it less than legitimate. I remember the first time that happened. William didn't tolerate it. He didn't do it often, but he played the Alistair Cabot's grandson card. Even though Alistair was dead, his legacy still meant a lot. William put them in their place...and put me in my place...Erica Cabot. He didn’t treat me as some damsel in distress. What he did was give me a foundation to build my own reputation on, but he didn’t build it for me. I was so proud of him. That meant a lot to me. He stood up for me. His acquaintances and society friends had put me down and he chose to defend me against them. But he didn’t take it too far. What he did was give me the space to be who I was and become who I…who I wanted to be. I wanted to be Mrs. William Cabot. I wasn’t threatened by that. I embraced it. Davison won't let anyone treat you that way either. I'm sure of that. Regardless of what misgivings I may have had, I'm convinced that his loyalty to you is unimpeachable. For me, there came a time when I didn't need William's...protection. I was my own person in our world. You'll be the same. One day, you'll stop being just Davison Cahill's wife. You'll be Carla Cahill and everyone will know you for who you are and not for who you married."

"Mom, do you remember what you were thinking when you walked down the aisle?"

"I...I'm not sure I remember what I was thinking or feeling, but I remember that I looked for William as soon as the doors at the back of the church opened and I walked in. I was so nervous. When I found him, I didn't look at anyone else...I didn't dare to. I was afraid to see all those people standing up, staring at me, so I just looked at him. I know my father walked me down the aisle, but I never looked at him...not once. I remember seeing a tear fall down your father's cheek. I distinctly remember that. I distinctly remember thinking, what's wrong with him?"

"There wasn't anything wrong was there?"

"Oh, no. It was the first time he'd seen me in my wedding dress. The only time. That's one of the things that makes this so emotional. I must've tried on twenty, maybe thirty dresses before I picked one. It took almost an hour to get into it at the church, to make sure everything was just right. William never saw it until the wedding, not even a glimpse. I've never worn that dress again, but I wouldn't trade that instant in time for anything. When those doors open at the back of the church tomorrow, find Davison and when you do, don't take your eyes off of him. He's going to be waiting there, just for you, just like your father was for me. One thing maybe…it’ll be the last journey you take as Carla Cabot, but you’ll always be a Cabot, just like I’ve always been a Penderton. I’m proud of my family. I’m proud of where I came from and where I went to."

"Did I ever tell you that I wanted to elope? No? I did, legitimately. I asked Davison why we couldn't just go down to the courthouse, get married, and be done with it. Know what he made me do?"

"Have the wedding?"

"No. He wanted the wedding. He was the one. He wanted a big one, for me, not him. But no, what he made me do was talk to Kate and Rachel. He said if they said their weddings hadn't been a big deal to them, then he'd go along with eloping."

"What did you do?"

"Talked to Kate and Rachel."

"And?"

"And...here we are."

"So, they talked you into it."

"It was more like Davison knew what they would say. By wanting to elope, I was breaking one of his rules."

"Which was?"

"Don't judge the trip until you've reached the destination."

"Ah."

"Yeah. Did you know that he noticed the rules that you and Dad have? Always saying 'I love you' and sleeping in the same bed at the end of the day?"

"No, I didn't know. I didn't know he was that observant."

"You can't imagine what he notices. He noticed that when you were happy, Dad was happy."

"Oh, and when did he notice that?" 

"At my birthday party at Keens. Mom, what was it about Dad that caught your eye? You know, the first time you noticed him, I mean really noticed him in a different way?"

“Well, I knew who he was before we ever met. He was a Cabot. Everyone knew the Cabots. We didn't go to the same private school, but our schools did some things together. We got introduced at some...I don't even remember what it was...some social gathering. I think we both had teachers who introduced students from one school to students from the other. I vaguely recall talking with him for a few minutes, not privately, but in a small group. Later, weeks later, our two schools were at some other...event. I was standing around, not talking to anyone. He walked over to me, by himself, called me by name, and reintroduced himself. He remembered my name...Erica Penderton."

"Did you remember him?"

"Of course. He was a Cabot."

"You keep saying that like it was a big thing."

"Carla, you have no idea. It wasn't just the normal rules of society and who was higher on the social food chain. It was Alistair Cabot. 'Feared and revered' I think your father used to say. Anyway...where was I?"

"Dad remembered your name."

"That meant a lot to me. He remembered my name and he went out of his way to meet me. As I recall, we talked quite a bit, most of it alone. Then, it seemed like we kept running into each other and not just social events. We discovered that we lived fairly close to each other, went to some the same places, that sort of thing. You know how it is. You don't notice someone until you notice them for the first time and then you see them everywhere. That's the way it was with us...actually with William. I couldn't bring myself to say 'hi' to him very often, so he took it upon himself to do it. Soon enough, we seemed to see each other every day. I found out later that he'd made changes in where he went and when just so he could run into me."

"Wow, Mom. He was stalking you."

"I suppose he was. You asked what first caught my eye about him. Other than being a Cabot, that was it. He went out of his way to see me. He didn’t have to do it, he…wanted to. It started out as just a friendly 'hello' or maybe walking together for a few minutes until one of us got to where we were going. This was before Starbucks but we managed to bump into each other at certain places. Now that I think about it, maybe he was stalking me. I'll have to ask him."

"When did you first get...you know...serious...more than just 'hey, hi, how are you'?"

"It had been building for months, but it peaked at the Spring Gala.”

“Spring Gala?”

“His private school had a Spring Gala every year. Very big, very posh. It was a big deal. About a month before it, we ran into each other and ended up walking together for quite a while. I could tell that something was...on his mind...he seemed distracted. Yeah. He asked me to go to the gala with him."

"Very cool."

"Very not cool. It was almost a cardinal sin for him."

"Why? What happened?"

"Alistair, that's what happened. Alistair found out. The Pendertons weren’t socially high enough to be acceptable for the gala, at least not acceptable to Alistair. William's parents didn't particularly care, but they didn't want any trouble with Alistair. So, they just stayed out of it. It was your dad and his grandfather. To hear William tell it, it was ugly. Alistair ordered him to disinvite me and choose someone from his own school, someone better suited to be seen by and with the Cabots. That just set William off. Finally, your dad told his grandfather that he was either taking me to the gala or he wasn't going...and that he'd find a way to get invited to my school's gala. Ours wasn't nearly so...elaborate. That was the first time I heard your father use the phrase 'playing dirty pool’. He hit Alistair where it hurt, in society."

"So what happened?"

"Alistair conceded. He couldn't have the oldest son of one of his sons skip the gala. It would have reflected badly on him. So, I was in...sort of. I didn't get the customary pre-gala gathering at the Cabot’s house. Alistair wouldn't have it and William's parents didn't press it. But, William got his dig in. Everyone knew that I wasn't going to be invited, so William announced a couple of days ahead of the gala that he and I were going to my parents' house and he refused to budge. I think Alistair may have even offered to change his mind, but by then your father had had enough of his grandfather."

"Wow...how come I've never heard this until now?"

"It...it never seemed to come up, Bri, until now, your wedding day. Plus, you never asked."