LOVE BY CHANCE
Chapter Nine
Ruth’s taxi pulled up in front of Rose’s
house at exactly nine o’clock. Ruth stepped out and paid the driver, noticing
with displeasure that another car was parked in front of the house. Apparently
Rose had invited her boyfriend to breakfast, too.
She sighed in annoyance. She’d had everything
planned out so perfectly, but it would be hard to talk Rose into anything with
Jack Dawson around. He seemed to bring out the defiance in her daughter.
Squaring her shoulders, Ruth marched up to
the front door, bakery bag in hand. So what if Jack was there? Rose had never
been able to resist her manipulations for long.
She rang the doorbell.
*****
Rose cringed as the doorbell rang, dreading
her mother’s arrival. Jack squeezed her hand reassuringly, trying to understand
Rose’s fear of her mother. To be sure, Ruth DeWitt-Bukater could be rude and
manipulative, but she wasn’t someone to fear. Was she?
Slowly, Rose got up and answered the door.
Ruth was standing there, tapping her foot, annoyed at having to wait.
She looked Rose over, noting that her
daughter’s clothing was casual and her hair unstyled, not at all how she had
taught her daughter to look when guests were expected. That Dawson boy was
affecting her even more than Ruth had thought possible, or was it only Rose’s
increasingly strong-willed personality that made her behave so?
"Well, at least you’re dressed,"
she remarked, knowing that Rose knew exactly what she was talking about.
"The way you’ve been treating me, I almost expected you to greet me in a
bathrobe."
Rose scowled at her, turning and walking
toward the kitchen. Ruth followed after her, an angry look pasted on her face,
although she was secretly pleased, knowing that she had won this round.
She followed Rose into the cozy-looking
kitchen, her eyes taking in everything around her. At least Rose still had good
taste. The house was nicely decorated, the walls, furniture, and carpets
coordinated. Smiling smugly, she gave herself another point for teaching Rose
good taste.
Well, Rose had good taste in some things.
Ruth eyed Jack in annoyance as she entered the kitchen. She couldn’t approve of
Rose’s taste in men. Why in the world would her daughter choose a nobody like
Jack Dawson when she could have had someone like Caledon Hockley?
"Good morning, Mrs.
DeWitt-Bukater," Jack greeted her.
Ruth eyed him suspiciously, sure that Rose
had invited him for the express purpose of defying her, but answered him
stiffly. "Good morning."
Rose got a stack of plates from the cabinet.
The sooner they ate, the sooner she could find an excuse to escort Ruth out of
her house.
"Sit down, Mother. Would you like some
coffee?"
"Yes." Ruth spoke as though it were
expected. "You know how to prepare it."
"Of course."
Gritting her teeth, Rose went to get Ruth’s
coffee. Her mother was extremely picky about how she liked her coffee—it had to
have just the right mix of cream and sugar, or Ruth would take one sip and set
it aside, then glare at the server contemptuously until another cup was served.
Rose held her breath as Ruth took a sip, then
nodded coolly. She had gotten it right on the first try.
She sat down, smiling at Jack as he served
the pastries her mother had bought. In spite of the fact that they were her
favorite cream cheese Danishes, she had little appetite as she watched her
mother peruse everything with a critical eye.
"So, Mother, what do you think of my
home?" Rose asked, wondering if it measured up to her mother’s exacting
standards.
"Well, Rose, you’ve decorated it
tastefully, but it is rather…small."
"I live here alone. I don’t need a big
house."
"Did you buy it, or do you rent
it?"
"I rent it, of course. Houses are so
expensive."
"If you’d done things like I told you,
you would have considerably more money."
And considerably more bruises, Rose thought, but to Ruth she said, "I’m content
with the way things are."
"Are you, now? Rose, do you have no
ambition whatsoever?"
"Of course I do, Mother. I want to be a
journalist, not just design the layout of the paper. I like what I do well
enough, but I want to do more."
"You could have such an easy life, so
much more than what you have here. If you played your cards right, you could
work for a major paper back east, in Philadelphia or New York, perhaps. You
could get a nice apartment instead of this cramped little house."
"If I wanted a nice apartment, Mother, I
could get one here. However, I happen to like living in this house."
"You would have so many more
opportunities if you came home."
So that was what Ruth wanted, for Rose to
come back to Philadelphia. She should have known. Ruth couldn’t stand to
relinquish control over anyone, and if Rose moved back home, she would have a
much easier time manipulating her.
"I thought I wasn’t welcome in your
house."
"If your attitude improves, Rose, you’re
welcome anywhere. There are so many people I could introduce you to, people who
would be good to know in your career, people who send you places…"
"Men that I could marry and increase
your fortunes with," Rose continued dryly. "Mother, I am not moving
back to Philadelphia."
"Suppose your company decided to send
you there?"
"Since I work for the San Francisco
Times, I doubt there’s much chance of that."
"You never know what might happen with a
merger."
Rose sighed. "Mother, what are you
really getting at?"
"My boss has a son just a few years
older than you. If you were to give him a chance, I think you might really hit
it off."
Jack looked at the arguing women, a little
nervously. He hoped that Rose wouldn’t be manipulated into meeting this young
man. If they did indeed hit it off, that would be the end of their
relationship, and he had missed her all the years they had been apart. But he also
knew how adept Ruth was at manipulating her daughter, and worried that Rose
would once again give in.
Rose’s next words heartened him, though.
"Mother, I’m already with someone. I’m
with Jack." She moved closer to Jack, putting her hand on his. "I
love Jack."
Ruth scowled, obviously not happy with the
way things were going. "That’s a switch. When he left you, you swore that
you hated him, that going out with him had been a mistake, and that you never
wanted to see him again."
"That was several years ago. I was angry
and hurt that he never contacted me, but I’ve since learned that he lost my
address and phone number."
"How convenient. Rose—"
"And I have every reason to believe that
you threw his address and phone number away so that I couldn’t contact him. I’m
willing to bet that you did that just so that you could set me up with
Cal."
"Rose, I have never interfered with your
personal life."
"Mother, you’ve been interfering since
the day I was born. Why do you think I chose to move so far away from you? I need
my independence."
"I always tried to give you the best of
everything."
"I don’t want the best of everything, if
it means having to conform to your standards and the way you want me to live my
life."
"Don’t you speak to me that way, Rose.
I’m trying to have a reasonable conversation with you, but you simply don’t
want to listen."
"You’re right. I don’t want to listen.
I’ve been listening to you for far too long, and it’s cost me more happiness
than you could ever dream of."
"You’re wrong, Rose. I gave you
everything that you could ever want, but you’re so selfish that you never
appreciated any of it—or tried to return the favor."
"If returning the favor means marrying
some man that I can’t stand in order to get his money, then you’re the one
who’s being selfish, trying to push me into something like that."
"There’s plenty of good, well-to-do men
out there. You could have come to an amicable arrangement with Caledon Hockley,
I’m sure, but you let him slip through your fingers."
"Thank God I did. He’s a wife-beater,
you know."
"I never thought much of the girl he
married. She undoubtedly made that accusation simply to get his money in a
divorce settlement."
"Don’t you want the same thing for
me?"
"I want you in a good marriage."
"Then leave me alone and let me make my
own decisions!"
Ruth stood stiffly. "Rose, I will not
put up with this attitude from you…"
"Then leave my house. Nobody’s making
you stay here."
Ruth looked at her daughter, her eyes
furious. "I am leaving now, Rose. I will see you tomorrow."
"I’m working tomorrow."
"We’ll meet for lunch. You decide where,
and then call me."
"And if I don’t?"
"Rose, how can you treat me this way
after the effort I made to come out here to visit you?"
Rose sighed, staring at her mother. Ruth was
trying to give her a guilt trip—and succeeding. She gritted her teeth, knowing
that her mother would only be in town for a few more days—and Rose had no
intention of returning to Philadelphia anytime soon.
"All right, Mother. We’ll meet for lunch
tomorrow. But I only have an hour, so be on time."
"Fine. Where will we meet?"
"I haven’t decided yet. I’ll call you
tomorrow morning."
"Good. I will see then. I just hope your
attitude has improved some."
Rose clenched her fists. "Mother, I
think you’d better go now."
After Ruth was gone, Rose turned back to
Jack, only to see him staring at her, a strange expression on his face.
"Jack, what is it?" she asked.
"Did you really say those things after
we were separated—that you hated me, made a mistake in going out with me, and
never wanted to see me again?"
"Jack, I was angry and hurt that you
never contacted me after graduation. That’s why I said those things."
"And what changed your mind?" He
couldn’t help but remember that they had met again when Rose was on her way to
visit her mother. Could she have been using him to defy her mother?
"It had been several years. I got over
it."
"And over me?"
"Of course not. Why would I have gotten
back together with you so quickly if I’d gotten over you?"
"Maybe to show your mother that she
couldn’t control you? It was pretty convenient that we were both on our way to
Philadelphia when we met again."
"I didn’t know you would be there!"
"I know that, but you certainly ran to
me quickly enough when you couldn’t get along with her."
"You can’t honestly believe that I would
use you to get back at her!" Rose stared at him, her expression hurt and
shocked.
"Actually, I don’t know what to believe,
Rose. You claim to not want to be around her, but you’re quick enough to do
what she wants you to do."
"No, I’m not, Jack. Not anymore."
"We’ll see." He turned and walked
out of the kitchen, heading for the front door. "Call me when you’ve made
up your mind."
He walked out. Rose stared after him, tears
filling her eyes. Stumbling back into the kitchen, she sat down in one of the
chairs, putting her face in her hands.
"Damn you, Mother," she mumbled.
"Now look at what you’ve done."