June 14, 1963
Rose pulled into the carport and shut off the engine. Grabbing her notebook, she got out of the car and sprinted for the front door, ducking her head against the rain and hoping her mother wouldn’t notice that she’d forgotten her umbrella again.
Today had been the last day of her junior year of high school. She was officially a senior now. Rose wished that she could feel the excitement she had expected to feel at coming to this milestone, but with life so uncertain, her happiness at being near to the end of school was tinged with worry.
Life had not been easy since Tom Bukater’s death the previous August. Although Ruth had tried to hide her worries from her daughters, Rose had seen her frowning as she went over the bills, trying to find a way to make the lifestyle she insisted upon for herself and her children fit their reduced circumstances.
Rose had peeked at the bills when Ruth wasn’t looking, her own concern increasing as she realized that her mother was spending more than was coming in each month, even with the help Tom Jr. was able to provide—which wasn’t much. Enlisted men didn’t make a lot.
Rose had casually mentioned to her mother that she was considering looking for an after-school job, knowing that even the small amount of money she could make would help, but Ruth had forbidden her to seek employment, insisting that she could provide her daughter with whatever she needed and telling Rose that she needed to concentrate on her school work.
Rose had conceded, knowing that she wouldn’t be able to hide a job from her mother, but she had begun hoarding her allowance and her lunch money, taking food from the kitchen to school for lunch instead, and picking up whatever change she found on the ground, something she had ignored before. The twins were not so thrifty; at thirteen, they weren’t nearly as aware of the family's financial problems as Rose was.
The world seemed like a scarier place to Rose without her father, though she had to wonder if it just felt scarier, or if it really was scarier. The previous October, as the world had teetered on the brink of nuclear war over weapons build-up in Cuba, Rose had watched events unfold on TV and realized that there were some things her father could not have protected them from, no matter how hard he tried. Though she had long been interested in what was going on in the world outside the small space she occupied with her family and friends, it was the first time she had truly understood that what happened in the world could affect her, too. If a nuclear war had occurred, it would have destroyed them all, regardless of their social status, regardless of their views on the world.
More than ever before, the Cuban Missile Crisis had made Rose want to go out in the world and try to change things, try to make the world a better place before they could annihilate themselves. She felt helpless, though—what could a high school girl do against things that could wipe out the whole world? She wasn’t even sure she could take care of herself.
She had talked to Jack about her fears, and though he agreed that there really wasn’t anything she could do about the threat of the world being destroyed, he did feel that there were things she could do to take care of herself. To that end, he and Fabrizio had decided to teach her boxing so that she could defend herself, Fabrizio reasoning that a girl without a father or brothers to protect her needed to be able to protect herself.
Unfortunately, Rose had proven none too adept at boxing. She always pulled her punches, fearing that she would harm one of her friends, and wasn’t good at predicting their moves. The one thing she had ultimately proved good at was punching them in the nose, something that had resulted in bloody noses for both Jack and Fabrizio and had soon put an end to the boxing lessons.
When they had teased her about her lack of talent at boxing, she had retorted that they weren’t so good themselves—she had seen boxing on TV and neither Jack nor Fabrizio could measure up to a professional boxer’s level of skill. They had finally conceded that she was right—neither of them would ever be professional boxers, and the sport was more a way to work off energy than anything else—but they hadn’t attempted to teach her any more of what they knew, either.
Rose glanced at the clock as she hurried up the stairs to her room. Cal was home from Yale for the summer and was picking her up for a date at 5:30. He had promised to take her someplace nice, so she had to get ready.
When Cal had left for college early in September, Rose had thought—even hoped—that it was the end of their relationship. She liked him well enough—usually, anyway—but he could be obnoxious and opinionated, often belittling her own opinions and goals. She had wanted to date other boys and had assumed that Cal would meet someone else and forget about her. In spite of women not being admitted to Yale, she knew that Cal would not lack opportunities to meet members of the opposite sex, especially after he bragged to her about the fraternity he had joined.
Nevertheless, whenever Cal had been home for a vacation or holiday, he had called her and wanted to see her, and he always seemed so pleased to be around her that Rose didn’t have the heart to tell him she wanted to break things off. She often had fun on their dates, too, but after she got home, she would go over how she felt about him and wonder why she didn’t have the courage to break up with him.
*****
Rose was sitting outside when Cal arrived. The rain had stopped and the clouds dispersed, leaving bright sunshine and warm, humid air. He grinned when he saw her, his eyes lighting up, making Rose feel worse than ever about what she had decided to tell him tonight.
He gave her a quick kiss. “Are you ready to go, Sweetpea?”
She nodded, wishing she could think of some excuse not to go. “Let me just tell Mom I’m leaving.” She hurried inside.
A moment later, she returned, a light sweater draped over her arm. She rolled her eyes, wondering why her mother insisted that she bring a sweater whenever she went out. It had to be eighty degrees. She was in no danger of catching cold.
Cal took the sweater and tossed it into the back seat of his car, holding the front passenger door open for her until she was seated comfortably.
“Where are we going?” Rose asked, rolling down her window and breathing in the fresh air.
“St. Ives,” Cal responded. “I made reservations there over a month ago. I thought it would be…fitting.”
Rose turned to look out her window, hiding her expression. St. Ives was a very expensive restaurant, one that her parents had gone to on occasion but had never taken their children to. She would have preferred doing something more casual and less expensive. It didn’t seem right to let Cal spend so much money on her and then break up with him. Not that he couldn't afford it, but still…
It was almost six o’clock when they arrived at the restaurant. The maitre ’d checked Cal’s reservation and a waiter escorted them to a table. Rose toyed with her menu, barely noticing what was printed on it, trying to decide if she should tell him now or later that she didn’t want to see him anymore.
When the waiter returned with their drinks, Rose’s resolve to end her relationship with Cal was strengthened. He didn’t give her a chance to order her own meal.
“We’ll both have the lamb, rare, with very little mint sauce,” Cal told the waiter. Realizing that he hadn’t asked Rose her opinion, he added, “You like lamb, right, Sweetpea?”
Rose gave him a fake smile, unwilling to make a scene. She did like lamb, but that was beside the point. Cal had a bad habit of ordering for her, as though she couldn’t make up her own mind.
Her mind was made up. Rose set her drink aside, looking squarely at Cal.
“Cal, I—“
“Wait, Sweetpea. Before you say anything else, I have something to ask you.” He reached into his pocket.
Rose felt a sudden sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach. She had a bad feeling that she knew what was coming.
“Rose, I…” Cal began nervously, bringing a small black box from his pocket.
Rose stared at it, her spirits sinking even lower.
“Over the past year,” Cal began again, “while I’ve been away at Yale, I’ve missed you. You mean a great deal to me, and I was hoping that you would consent to spend your life with me.” He looked at Rose, seeing how her eyes darted from the box to his face and back. “Rose, I’m asking you to marry me.”
Oh, shit. Rose put a hand over her mouth, hoping she hadn’t said the words out loud. Cal, mistaking the reason for the stunned look on her face, opened the box, revealing a large, sparkling diamond ring.
Removing the ring from the box, he reached for her hand, frowning when she drew back. Rose shook her head, trying to think of a way to reject his proposal that wouldn’t hurt him.
“Cal, I…I can’t. I’m too young…I haven’t even finished high school yet.”
“It wouldn’t be right away…next year would be fine. You would want time to plan the wedding anyway.”
Obviously, he wouldn’t be put off gently. “Cal, no. I can’t…I don’t want to get married. I…we…we’re too different. You want a sweet little wife who will stay at home and be on your arm in public, who will make you look good. I…want more than that. I want to do things. I want to go to college. I want to…to make a difference in the world.” She looked down. Tonight was not going at all as she had planned. She had planned to break up with him—she had never thought he would propose to her.
Cal stared at her, not quite believing what he was hearing. He knew that she felt strongly about many things that were going on in the world, but had never thought she would turn down a marriage proposal in favor of some nebulous dreams.
“Sweetpea, you can make a difference in the world. You can work with charities, give money to them…I can give you anything you want.”
Rose smiled sadly and shook her head. She did not want to wind up like her mother, so reliant on her husband that she had no idea how to take care of herself and her family. To be sure, Cal might live a long time, might keep his fortune, but then again…one never knew. She wanted her own life. She wanted to be able to take care of herself, not be at the mercy of anyone else. She did not want Cal to run her life, picking and choosing what she did, what causes she supported, where she went.
“No, Cal.” Rose shook her head, dropping her napkin on the table and standing. “I’m sorry.”
With that, she turned and walked out of the restaurant.
*****
It was just past seven o’clock when the cab she had hailed dropped her off at home. Rose paid the driver, then hurried inside, afraid that Cal would follow her home and press the issue.
Before she could go upstairs, though, Ruth came out of the dining room, having heard the door slam behind her daughter.
“Back so soon?”
“Not soon enough,” Rose mumbled, wishing she could erase the whole past hour.
She looked longingly at the stairs, but her mother wouldn’t let her go until she’d grilled her about her date. In the past, Ruth had paid little enough attention to Rose’s comings and goings, but since her husband had died, she was paying far more attention to what her children did, resulting in Rose being much more careful to get home by curfew, since her mother would wait up for her near the front door, making it impossible to sneak in by her bedroom window.
“How was your date?”
“Fine,” Rose told her, hoping to avoid the subject…but no such luck.
“It was awfully short. Did something happen?”
Rose sighed, clutching the strings of her fancy purse. “He proposed to me.”
Ruth’s eyes widened. “And you were eager to share the news. Did he give you a ring?”
Rose shook her head. “Mom, I told him no.”
Ruth stared at her in disbelief. “What?”
Rose looked down. She’d been afraid her mother would react this way. Finding a husband was important, in her mother’s eyes, and if he was as wealthy and well-connected as Cal Hockley, all the better.
“Mom, I don’t want to marry him. He…we just don’t have enough in common. I don’t want to spend my life with him…I want to make my own way in the world.”
“And you think you can do better than him?” Ruth’s words were sharp.
Rose looked up at her mother, stung. “I’d like to try.”
Ruth took Rose’s purse from her and set it on the table. “Come with me, Rose.” Turning towards the dining room door, she called, “Finish your dinner, girls!”
When they reached the small sitting room at the opposite end of the house, Ruth escorted her daughter inside and closed the door. “Sit down, Rose.”
Rose sighed, but did as her mother asked. “Mom…”
“I don’t want Lucy and Julie listening in. This conversation needs to be private.”
Rose fidgeted, tapping at the arms of the antique chair. “Mom, I—“
“Listen to me, Rose. You know what our situation is. Your father left us with very little…and not only do I have you to support, but also your sisters.”
“What does that have to do with my not wanting to marry Cal?”
“Do you know how much the Hockleys are worth, Rose?”
“I never thought to ask.”
“Rose, this marriage could solve all of our problems.”
Rose looked up at her, finally comprehending what Ruth was saying. “You want me to marry him for his money?!”
“He’s not a bad person, Rose. I think you could be happy with him, if you just gave him a chance.”
“No.” Rose shook her head, unable to believe what she was hearing. “Mom, no. This…this is absurd. It’s 1963! People don’t marry for money anymore!”
Ruth laughed bitterly, looking at Rose cynically. “It happens far more than you’d believe, my idealistic daughter.”
“I won’t marry him! I don’t want to marry anybody!”
“You certainly seem happy enough to act like his wife.”
“What?” Rose stared at Ruth. Surely she couldn’t know about…
“Did you think I didn’t notice the grass stains on your dress and twigs in your hair after your date with him on Memorial Day?”
Rose turned bright red, confirming Ruth’s suspicions.
“After you went to school the next day, I searched through your dresser. I found your diaphragm, and also your cigarettes. The cigarettes I confiscated.”
Rose had wondered where the cigarettes had gone, but hadn’t thought her mother had found them. She had blamed her sisters, but hadn’t confronted them for fear of tipping her mother off to her smoking habit. Ruth hated the smell of cigarettes. She had more important things to worry about now than the fact that her mother knew she smoked, though.
“Mom, I…there’s no need for me to marry him. There’s no baby…”
“I didn’t think there was. I know what a diaphragm is used for—though I wonder what doctor would give one to an unmarried teenage girl.”
One who was mesmerized by the sight of the extra fifty dollars Cal gave me, Rose thought, but she didn’t tell her mother that. Nor did she tell her that Memorial Day hadn’t been the first time. It was bad enough that Ruth had figured out what Rose and Cal had been doing—she didn’t need to know any more than that.
“What would your father say if he knew?”
Rose ducked her head. “He doesn’t know, and he never will.”
“And if he did?”
“He wouldn’t be happy.”
“What do you have to say for yourself, Rose?”
Rose scowled, a mutinous look coming over her face. “Nothing. It’s over and it won’t happen again.”
“I think you should marry him.”
“No!”
“Rose, think for a moment. You’ve already given him what you should have saved for marriage. You wouldn’t have done that unless you had some feelings for him. And think of what your marriage could do for our family.”
“I offered to get a job…”
“And I told you no. You need to concentrate on your schoolwork. I wish things were different, Rose. I wish your father were still alive. I wish we had enough money. But your father is dead, and we don’t have the money we need. You, however, have the ability to bring this family back to its former status—if you make the right decision.”
“But I don’t love him!”
“That argument, Rose, was lost when you chose to sleep with him without waiting for a ring on your finger.”
“Why don’t you find a rich man to marry?”
“At my age?”
“You’re only forty-two.”
“Whether I might marry again or not is not the point. You have a wonderful opportunity in front of you, and you’re just throwing it away.”
“Mom…” Rose could feel her resolve weakening. She didn’t want to marry Cal, didn’t really want to marry anyone at this point, but she knew her mother was right about the money. It didn’t seem fair to have all this on her shoulders, but as she’d learned, life wasn’t fair. Would it really be so bad to be married to Cal? He did have his good points, hard as they were to find sometimes, and it would make life easier for her mother and sisters.
“All right, Mom.” Rose bowed her head, trying to hide the tears that were filling her eyes. “I’ll call him and tell him I changed my mind…if he’ll have me.”
“I think he will. A man who wants to marry a woman doesn’t usually put her aside just because she gets scared and says no the first time.” She bent down and gave Rose a hug. “Don’t cry, Rose. It’ll be all right. Once you get used to the idea, I think you’ll be very happy.”
*****
The next evening, Rose went out with Cal and came back wearing a sparkling diamond ring.