LOVE BY CHANCE
Chapter Twelve

Tuesday, September 11, 2001

"Hello, Rose."

Rose looked up from her work to see Ruth standing beside her desk. "Mother, what are you doing here?"

"I had nothing better to do, so I came to see the place where you work."

"I thought you were going home."

"I called the airport, and there wasn’t a flight back to Philadelphia available until this morning. Now, of course, all flights are grounded, or didn’t you know that?"

Rose gritted her teeth at her mother’s patronizing tone. "Yes, Mother, I knew that. I work for a newspaper, or didn’t you notice?"

"Don’t take that tone of voice with me, Rose."

"Mother, I’m trying to work. We’re putting out an extra edition this afternoon, so I really don’t have time to talk now. Why don’t you go find something to do? This is San Francisco. I’m sure you can find something."

"The tourist attractions are much too dangerous to visit right now. Some of them have been shut down."

"Then go shopping, or go out to eat, or something. I’m trying to work."

"Rose, this is why I don’t want you living out here alone in San Francisco. It’s too dangerous. If international terrorists can attack such prominent places as the World Trade Center and the Pentagon, think of the havoc they could raise with a regional newspaper. I believe it would be in your best interest to return with me to Philadelphia and seek a safer type of job."

"As if a national newspaper would be a safer type of job than a regional one."

"If you married the right kind of man, you wouldn’t have to work at all."

Rose shook her head, her eyes narrowing in contempt. "Oh, Mother, I just can’t believe you. You’re turning a national tragedy into another excuse to try to manipulate me. When are you going to stop?"

"Rose, I have only your best interests in mind."

"No, Mother, you have your best interests in mind. If you’re so set on being wealthy, why don’t you find a rich husband? I’m sure you could do it if you played your cards right. But stop bothering me!"

"Rose, I insist you come back to Philadelphia with me."

"And I insist you leave me alone, now. I am not going back to Philadelphia with you. I am perfectly happy where I am, in the job I have. I have friends and a life here, and I have Jack."

"Rose, after all I’ve done for you…"

"All you’ve done is succeeded in driving me away. Why do think I moved out here the first chance I got? It was to get away from you and your manipulativeness."

"Rose, how dare you?"

"You’ve made my life miserable since I was born. Now, I have my own life and my own career, and you are not going to interfere." Rose slammed her hands down on her desk, making a few people turn to stare. "Good-bye, Mother."

"Rose DeWitt-Bukater…"

"Mother, leave. Now. Or I’m calling security. With all the nervous tension in the air, I’m sure they’d be glad for something to do."

"You wouldn’t dare."

"Mother, I am sick of this. I am sick of you trying to manipulate me, trying to run my life, trying to interfere in everything I do. You even tried to ruin my relationship with Jack. Well, here’s some news for you. You didn’t succeed, and Jack and I are back together and happier than ever, and now I’m strong enough not to listen to you. You ask if I would dare call security to remove you? You bet I would. Happily."

"I don’t have to put up with this."

"No, you don’t. You can leave. It’s your choice, Mother. You can leave under your own steam, or I can have you removed. Which is it going to be?"

Ruth stood stiffly, straightening her back. "I’ll leave." She walked toward the door, then turned back to her daughter once more. "I hope you’re happy, Rose. We won’t meet again."

"That’s your choice, Mother. If you ever learn to stop manipulating me, and let me go my own way, we can try again. But if you can’t, then you’re right. We won’t meet again. Good-bye, Mother. Have a good life."

"Good-bye, Rose." Ruth looked as though she were about to say more, but then she turned and left the room, walking away and closing the door behind her.

Rose watched her go, then put her head down on her desk for a moment, her fists clenching and unclenching. Then, she sat up, returning to her work and pushing the conversation from her mind.

Chapter Thirteen
Stories