Chapter 2
THE PURSUIT OF SEXUAL PLEASURE....
The city looked and smelled the same as always to Calla as she turned her Mustang off the highway and headed toward the downtown business district. She was glad she had timed her departure to arrive at three o'clock rather than an hour later when the traffic would be murder.
Calla had been brought up in a hotel in the heart of the city and could never understand why thousands of people insisted on driving their cars to and from work every day when there was a perfectly good transit system they could use instead.
She hadn't thought about that for a long time, through all the years of college, but now that she was back home, the old familiar thoughts returned quickly.
There had been enough trips back home to see her father so that she didn't notice any real changes in the city. A building that had been under construction was occupied now, another that had been occupied the last time she saw it was a hole in the ground with workmen swarming as they prepared to erect another steel and concrete giant.
As for the hotel, there were no changes at all, she saw as she rounded the corner, slipped into the driveway and left the car for the porter to remove her bags and park it.
It was a way of life with her and she returned to it easily. She had first seen the hotel when she was five days old. Her mother hadn't come back from the hospital. The body had gone to a funeral parlor and mother was a word she never really learned to understand.
But father, now there was a word she really understood. The love she would have given to two parents was all lumped together for him. He played both roles with equal facility and, when she was young and it was really the mother she needed, he was always there.
They lived in a suite in the hotel and to the young Calla, that was the only kind of home there was. There were women to do the work and tend her while her father was busy, but mostly, there was father himself leaving others to run the hotel while he spent time with his daughter.
Father and daughter went everywhere and did everything together. Calla not only went to the zoo, she actually learned all about the animals and the countries in which they lived.
That was possible because her father had done his homework and anticipated the questions she would ask. The same was true when they went to art galleries, concerts, the museum or the theatre.
By the time she was twelve, Calla had the poise and maturity of a girl in her late teens. And yet, there was not a trace of the precocious in her. Without once having to spank her, her father saw to that. She had grace and charm and wit in spite of the fact that her father made a point of not keeping her wrapped and protected from life.
She went to the same school as the rest of the downtown kids, she had all the friends she wanted, visited them and had them visit her, but there was no fear that her sense of values would be damaged.
The values had been firmly planted right from infancy and father was confident. When other girls dressed or acted differently, Calla respected their right to do so, but chose not to go along.
When some of the less informed ones told wild tales about the terrible thing that happens to the female body at puberty, Calla was able to laugh at their crazy stories and tell them the factual story of the biology of the female.
They couldn't understand how a girl without a mother could know so much and sensed that the loss was theirs, but they were forced to respect this strange girl who seemed so far beyond them and yet offered them a warm, sincere friendship without ever looking down on them.
School was a breeze for her. She liked it and excelled in it. The work, which her father helped her understand early in the game, was so simple that she couldn't see why all the kids didn't get averages around ninety. It was just that easy.
During high school, Calla began to date. Again, her father made sure she was ready for that step. They had a lot of long, friendly talks and Calla knew everything about the boy-girl game.
She necked and enjoyed it, but always knew when to stop and when to make sure the boy stopped. Because she was a beauty even then, she had her choice of boys and selected the ones who were most intelligent and interesting rather than the football heroes or the car owners who were the big shots in the school.
Before she went away to college, there was another long conversation. This time, Calla sipped sherry while her father drank bourbon and water. They talked of morality and college life and freedom and restraint.
It was a good talk, one of their best ever. The next morning, Calla went to see the family doctor who prescribed the pill even though she had no intention of needing it in the forseeable future.
As it turned out, she didn't use them until she was almost twenty. There were lots of things in college to occupy her attention so that there was no need to join many of the young women she knew in dedicating her life to the pursuit of sexual pleasures.
When the others tried pot or LSD to broaden their perception, she ignored it. Her perception was broad enough, thank you, and worked more efficiently without artifical stimulation.
While some of the girls called her stuffy and a prude, she laughed as she proved them wrong. It was a coeducational college and the Sigma Chi fraternity voted her their queen. She dated often and there was a veritable line up of young males begging for dates.
As in high school, she chose her dates on the basis of her interests and standards. When she refused the quarterback's invitation to be his date at the big homecoming dance before the game with Purdue, he was stunned.
At even a hint of a smile, the other females on campus eagerly dropped their panties. He couldn't understand why she actually turned him down.
The effect must have been pronounced, because the next day, the team's undefeated record went down the drain as they lost 35-0. Four of the five touchdowns came as a result of intercepted passes as, according to the press, the quarterback suffered his worst game since joining the team.
While the quarterback was covering himself with disgrace, Calla was in a coffee house thrilling to the singing of Gordon Lightfoot, a Canadian folk singer. The five others with her, two girls and three boys, just didn't dig football either.
It was during college vacation when she was visiting home that Calla received the first really big shock of her life.
A family friend, in a moment of confidence, told her how her father had so desperately wanted a son who would take over the hotel from him when he became too old and tired to go on.
Calla managed to mask her feelings, but it hit her deep in the pit of the stomach. He had given her so much love, had done so much for her, she thought, and she had failed to see his real need.
With only one term to go to complete an arts degree, it was unthinkable that she should chuck it to switch to a course in hotel administration, but she did just that.
Her father was stunned when she broke the news to him, but although he tried to talk her into completing her course, she was adamant. Through his protests, she saw the tears of happiness and that was more reward than she needed.
Because she had grown up in a hotel, the course was a snap. While others studied and tried to understand it, Calla led her class and wondered why the others found it a difficult course at all.
Still, when exam time came, Calla felt the pressure as much as they did. While they strove for a passing mark, she fought to ensure that her mark didn't disgrace her by going below ninety.
And then the days of studying and living the free, untrammeled life were over and she was walking into the hotel. For the first time in her life, she saw it as a thing that belonged to her, rather than she to it. All the things she had learned during the course flooded into her mind as she entered the lobby and walked toward the desk.
They flooded out just as fast when she saw her father behind the desk. She was back home now and ready to start repaying some of the many things he had given her over the years.
She was ready to do all the things he had hoped his son would do.
Calla both shocked and pleased him by reaching over the desk to pull him toward her while she kissed him warmly on the mouth. He loved it.
"Young lady," he began in pretended protest, "I have tried all my life to teach you that one must observe a measure of decorum in a hotel lobby. Didn't they teach you anything in that college?"
"Of course they did, dad," she smiled up into his handsome, slightly wrinkled face. "They taught me that when you want a. drink, you should get it. How's the booze in this joint? Is it safe? If so, take me to your bar and buy me one."
Despite his lecture, the man had his arm around his daughter's waist as he walked her to the bar.
For a long time, while they nursed their drinks, the two discussed the hotel and the future. He was delighted that she was ready to come to work with him and didn't try to hide his feelings.
There was one feeling he did manage to hide rather well though. The doctors had assured him that the cancer cells in his blood would probably allow him another seven to ten months of life. Beyond that, they couldn't offer anything.
He knew there would have to be another long talk between them and he would have to maintain his policy of honesty by telling her. Still, this wasn't the time for it.