NEW IMPRESSIONS
Chapter Nine

Ruth folded her hands as she walked, falling behind Rose and Jack as they opened the glass doors to the Terrace Cafe, a small restaurant they'd spotted near the airport. Rose, in her usual exuberance and concern, had insisted that they stop to eat breakfast before returning to Berkeley, as Ruth had been on a plane all morning and must be starving. But Ruth herself felt rather awkward, forced to sit down at a meal with someone she had only met a mere half-hour earlier. She would have liked some time to settle down at Rose's first, talk to her daughter and try to finally force some information about Jack Dawson out of her. Instead, it looked as though the three of them would be thrust into some sort of conversation right at this moment. Ruth studied him as he talked politely with the hostess who stood at the front counter. Jack had certainly been impressive so far, with his kind greeting and impeccable manners. Just as Gina had implied, he was extremely handsome- this not even Ruth could deny. She had been surprised to see what a nice car he drove, and during the short ride from the SFO parking lot here, he had been adamant about making sure she was comfortable and had even asked how the flight had gone. Rose sat in the front seat alongside him, turning her head every few minutes to look from her mother to Jack, smiling almost nervously. Ruth realized that her daughter must be worried as to what she would think, but still she felt cautious and curious about this man and his relationship with Rose.

The three of them were led to a table in the back, where the sunlight that had suddenly appeared, was not so fierce through the windows. Ruth straightened her back, taking in the room with one discreet glance. It was small and quaint, but appeared nice enough. And she had to admit that she was a bit hungry after waking so early this morning. She had been much too jittery to down anything but her usual black coffee. Rose was looking at her expectantly now, her daughter's forehead creased in worry. "Is this all right Mother?"

"Oh yes, of course." Ruth spoke and then hesitated before sitting down, waiting until the two of them had taken their seats across from her. Strangely she felt as if this were indeed two against one. Sliding her chair closer to the table, she cleared her throat. Eyeing Jack carefully, Ruth spoke in her most polished tone. "Jack," she said the name quickly, "I haven't thanked you yet for coming with Rose and meeting the plane. That was quite thoughtful." She glanced at Rose, who was smiling and seemed a little relaxed.

Jack rested his hands on the table, nodding once, "You're welcome, Ruth. It was my pleasure." His voice was clear, self-assured, and sounded completely sincere. There was a healthy glow in his tanned face, and his eyes told of someone who was immensely intelligent. The pieces of the puzzle just didn't seem to fit together. Could this man really be an artist? As questions began to pile inside Ruth's head, a waitress approached their table, quickly placing several cups and saucers in front of them, as well as a pot of steaming coffee. She announced that she would be back to take their order shortly, and Rose let out a timid thank you.

Rose began to tense as silence settled over them once again. She pushed several strands of hair behind her ears and searched frantically for anything to say that could possibly break the ice. It had to be something that connected her mother to Jack, a common ground. She swallowed and moved her head, indicating that she had something to say. "Mother, Jack had a show in Seattle once, at the Parrish. Didn't you help with selling that land when it was built?" Rose looked to Jack who seemed rather amused, but hopeful. His gaze connected with hers for just a split second, before they both turned to face Ruth.

A show? Ruth lowered her eyes and thought for a moment. Surely Jack Dawson wasn't some sort of performing artist? If there was a profession she found even less appealing than art, it would have to be acting. "Yes, yes, I did. The contractor was a friend of mine from college," Ruth paused and moved her attentions to Jack, "So you had some sort of show up there, as Rose said?"

Jack shifted in his seat, trying his very best to maintain the smile on his face and the positive outlook he held. But Rose had certainly not been exaggerating when she had complained of her mother's rigid and almost demeaning way of asking questions. There was something in Ruth's eyes that made him feel as if he were receiving a grade on his answer, as if he were being rated. He felt that in many ways, his fate in this woman's eyes rested completely on these first minutes. He would have to find a way to get past those barriers. "It wasn't my show," Jack lifted his eyes and smiled, "I just had a few pieces on showcase in it. That was last year though, and I wasn't even able to attend it. I was just too busy with all my classes," Jack angled his head so that he could see Rose and still talk to Ruth at the same time, "but I would love to visit Seattle sometime. I've just never had the chance." His voice was smooth and charming, and Rose felt her pulse evening out. So far, Jack had managed to react expertly to her mother. She felt his left hand take her right one underneath the table, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

Ruth observed them and fidgeted with her hands, confused by Jack's contradicting statements. If he was an artist like he had implied, was he also still in school? He had mentioned classes. "Tell me, Jack. What is it exactly that you do?" Ruth asked this with marked determination. She didn't expect the laughter in Rose's eyes at the sound of her words, or the ridiculous smile for that matter.

Jack focused on the woman in front of him, trying to appear serious and direct. Obviously that was what Ruth Dewitt-Bukater wanted and expected- a concise answer. "I'm an art history professor at Berkeley, but I also teach some portfolio classes there. When I have time, I enter some of my paintings in local shows, but I haven't recently actually." Jack finished with a grin on his face. He felt Rose twirl her fingers around in his own. Her bright eyes were shining, and when Rose glanced at her surprised mother, there was a distinct look of smug satisfaction on her face.

Ruth sat dumbfounded, and when she realized that her mouth was hanging wide open, she quickly steadied herself. A professor...well that would certainly explain his maturity and his professional attitude. Although she was shocked, she was also simultaneously impressed that Rose had involved herself with someone of such a caliber. "Really? Well that's astounding, Jack." She attempted a smile, but somehow it more resembled a grimace. This new piece of information relieved her somewhat, but there were still endless unanswered questions. Even more now. Ruth hated to appear rude, although Rose had informed her more than once in the past that she often came off that way. That was something she would have work on this weekend. "So how long exactly have you...been a professor?" Ruth blinked and saw Rose sigh, pursing her lips.

"Two years now." Jack bit his lip and quietly moved a few stray pieces of hair from his face. He saw that Ruth was watching him, possibly expecting more of an answer? Rose's hand felt suddenly very cold and clammy in his own. "I, ah, graduated with my Masters from UCLA in '98." He looked down for a moment, then raised his head with a generous smile on his face. Ruth found the energy to nod and traced her fingers over the plastic on her unopened menu.

"I must admit that I wasn't expecting that. Rose didn't give any indication that you actually worked for the school." She put obvious emphasis on the word "worked". Ruth widened her eyes and immediately regretted her comment. She saw Rose's face fall even further, clouding over. Jack's arm moved from under the table, and he draped it gently subtly over Rose's shoulders, the smile on his face now weakened significantly. Ruth turned her head at his action, uncomfortable at their sudden closeness. Although she was sure it was in response to her comment.

Jack did not notice this, but wasn't able to erase Rose's disappointed expression from his mind. Silently, he knew that this would be as much of a battle as she had predicted. Her mother's biting words, no matter how well disguised, had not helped this tender situation at all. "Well, I'm sure it probably never came up. It is summer after all." Jack winced as he said this, glad to see the same waitress making her way to them again. As she flipped her ordering pad open, he hoped that the atmosphere would soften once they had food to distract them. He moved his hand comfortingly over Rose's shoulder, sorry that he had ever doubted her consistent warnings.

**********

"Here, Mother, try this one on," Rose sighed and held a mint green dress high in the air, watching Ruth's reaction. They were in her room, searching for something for her mother to wear to dinner. In her hurry to leave Seattle the day before, she had forgotten to put the outfit she had planned to wear into her hanging bag. This presented quite a dilemma, considering her conservative taste in clothes. Rose had hardly anything that she felt her mother would even consider wearing.

"Oh, I don't know. It's a little low-cut..." Ruth stood from Rose's bed and examined the silky cloth, running her fingers over the neckline. She saw the impatient and annoyed look in her daughter's eye. And it was her birthday. Rose didn't deserve this on such a special day. "Well, okay darling. I'll try it. Maybe it will be all right." Ruth's forced smile did little to convince Rose of her sincerity, but at least her compliance was a start.

"Here you go. Just see okay? This would have been so much easier if we'd known while we were out today. We could have bought you something. It's just too late now." Rose handed her mother the dress, which she really did not wear very often because she thought it was plain and ordinary. It was just like her mother to question the quality of it. With one weary glance, Ruth was off into the bathroom to try the dress, and Rose slumped down into the chair beside her desk, letting out a long breath. These two days had gone quickly, despite her mother's constant attempts to force information from her. Ruth still believed, even after so many years, that her tactics were not noticeable. Rose rolled her eyes as she thought of this, taking a moment to examine her fingernails, which now sported a French-style manicure. In just one of their many outings in San Francisco today, Ruth had insisted that Rose look her very best for her birthday dinner. This had meant the arduous trip to the salon, a stop in a shoe store her mother had spotted for some "sensible and elegant heels", and even an hour in Macy's, where Rose had tried to satisfy Ruth by sampling a new line of makeup. And only after she had been reminded that it was her birthday, had she hesitantly allowed Ruth to buy several things for her in the department store. It wasn't enough that she had brought various items for Rose's apartment from Seattle, including a fancy coffee maker that she had absolutely no use for. With her mother, it was never enough. Something was always better, more proper. And in her eyes, Rose was still not capable of making her own choices, not even regarding the way she wore her hair.

Rose heard some rustling from the bathroom, which probably meant that Ruth had finally succumbed to the guilt and tried on the green dress. Rose herself stood for just a moment, observing her reflection in the vanity mirror. She wore a painstakingly tailored black sleeveless dress, one that Ruth had given her six months earlier, for a real-estate dinner Rose had attended with her. There was nothing wrong with it, and in fact she found it quite flattering, but it seemed to represent how much power Mother had. Not even the onset of her 21st birthday had loosened the skin-tight ties that Ruth placed on her, both emotionally and through her subtle (and often not so subtle) demands. If the issue of her father wasn't in the cards, Rose guessed that she would have already tried to break free, at least in more significant ways than she had in the past. Jack always seemed to have just the right words to offer concerning Ruth, but there was nothing he could really do, besides find some way to be accepted by the woman himself. The relationship between Rose and her mother was something totally different. Something she had to handle all by herself.

"I guess I'm as ready as I'll ever be for tonight." Rose mumbled to herself and raised one hand half-heartedly to fix a loose strand of hair from the upsweep, and placed it carefully behind the tiny pins atop her head. No matter what kind of damper her mother placed on this evening...it was her birthday after all. And her first with Jack, which in itself was enough to make her smile. She tried to tell herself that tonight was for him...all to be with him. She bit her lip and sat down again, staring at the newly framed photo resting on her bedside table. It was her first one with Jack; Seth had taken it for her last weekend at dinner. It had just been the four of them...she and Jack, Seth with his wife, at a beautiful outdoor cafe in the city. Rose had her camera with her then because she had been taking pictures earlier that day, for the coordinator of Head Start. And Seth, who now newly insisted that she address him with his first name only, had insisted on acting the part of a photographer. She grinned, remembering the playful ruckus Jack had made at first. But the picture was perfect...of this Rose was certain. Not only were they together, close and smiling, but it seemed that Jack's penetrating gaze was capable of transferring through the lens.

"Rose, dear, what do you think? Rose!" Ruth interrupted her daydreams rather brashly, entering the room with her hands on her hips. She followed her daughter's gaze to what she was so intently staring at, and felt that familiar uneasiness in her stomach. There was so little she knew about this man...this man that seemed to be Rose's entire life now.

Rose blinked and turned in her chair, taking a long glance at her mother. The simple dress was longer on her because she was just a bit shorter, and the sleeves fit more loosely than when she herself wore it. But it looked perfectly fine, with the delicate silk lining on the waist and Ruth's pearls accenting the neckline. Rose put a wide smile on her face, determined to lighten the mood. "It looks wonderful Mother. And don't try to say otherwise." She stood and joined her across the room, studying the strange glare in Ruth's eyes.

"I suppose it's the best we're going to do on such short notice." Ruth squinted and eyed the same mirror Rose had just been using, straightening the fabric of the garment. It would have to do, although not at all the sort of clothing she was used to wearing. Rose had even convinced her to wear her auburn hair down, combed into a neat bob that fell along her shoulders. She had not looked like this in quite awhile.

"It's fantastic on you, Mother. Trust me. And Jack's going to be here in about half an hour anyway." Ruth nodded, taking one last scrutinizing gaze into the glass, and reached gently for Rose's elbow.

"Well that gives us just a little time to talk then. Why don't we sit down until he gets here?" Ruth moved to sit on Rose's bed, and smoothed her hands over the comforter, motioning that she wanted Rose to join her. With a hesitant breath, she folded her hands across her chest and joined her mother, aware that something serious was about to be brought up, judging by the look in Ruth's rigid green eyes.

"What is it?" Rose sighed and leaned back slightly, lifting her eyes to the ceiling for a split second, trying to gain some strength.

"I just don't think we've had many chances to talk, Rose. With all the running errands today and me having to get settled yesterday. You forget that I haven't really seen you in quite awhile, darling. I do want you to have a good birthday, but..." Ruth lowered her eyes and raised her chin, ready to ask her real question. When she saw Rose nod, she continued, "Since you refuse to voluntarily discuss anything, I have to start these conversations."

"What is it that you want to know Mother?" Rose whispered wearily, playing with her hands. Ruth cleared her throat.

"I won't waste words, Rose. But I must admit that I'd like to know more about your..." Ruth paused and searched for the right word to use, "relationship with this Dawson fellow. I believe he's the explanation for your distant behavior lately."

Rose fought the urge to throw some awful retort into the air. This had gone on long enough after all- this hide and seek. Sighing, she balled her fingers into a fist, "I'm...I'm sorry if I've seemed that way. But Jack isn't the only reason, Mother. You know I've been working this summer. And there's really not much to tell...other than what you already know. He's a professor, we met when I did an interview for the paper..." Rose swallowed and waited for some sort of reaction from her mother.

Ruth raised her eyebrows slowly and clicked her tongue against her teeth sarcastically, "Nothing else to know dear? I have to say that being left out in the dark like this is confusing. I have no earthly idea how serious this whole thing is? Where he's from, what kind of family?"

Of course she would ask what kind of family Jack was from. Ruth, who chose blatantly to judge anyone by where they lived, worked, and how much money was involved, was probably more interested in that than how happy her own daughter was. "Mother...why can't you just..." She closed her eyes and pictured Jack's face, silently giving her the courage to go on. Reopening them, her face shone with a calm determination, "It's quite serious actually. Jack is someone who's very special to me, Mother. I'm...I'm getting older now...you couldn't have expected me never to find someone," Rose spoke with a passion in her voice, and Ruth nervously crossed her ankles, bracing herself for what was to come. "Someone that I want to be with, who makes me happy. Surely you knew that eventually..."

Ruth held up her hand, signaling Rose to stop. She shook her head back and forth several times. The lighting in the small room played on her features. For the first time she could remember, Rose saw the age in her mother's face. The lines that had been the result of these stressful years, supporting herself and a daughter alone. Rose's face softened, and she waited patiently for Ruth to speak. "I'm not doubting that he's very special to you Rose. But I'm your mother...and I'd simply like to know what kind of person he is. Where he comes from, things like that. I thought that you'd understand my concern?"

"I know what you mean..." Rose lowered her eyes, "And if what you're asking is about his family...well, he doesn't have any." Her voice took on a delicate tone, "Jack is from Wisconsin. His parents both died when he was young. He was an only child. He's lived out here since...since he left for school. Happy now?" Rose felt suddenly drained, having to travel this emotional roller coaster with her mother, but maybe it was best that she know these things.

Ruth looked surprised, and for a moment Rose could have sworn she saw a hint of sympathy there, in her eyes. "Rose, I didn't mean to pry..." But her face told that indeed, that was just what she had meant to do. Even if it had been with good intentions. "I'm sorry to hear that..." She cocked her head to the side, eyeing Rose. "How old is he exactly. Doesn't it take awhile to become a full time professor?"

"He's only 27, Mother. He's not ancient." Rose let out a little laugh, amused by her own mother's insinuations. "Please don't bring that up...we've already run that topic into the ground ourselves. And we both know that it doesn't matter." There was a sparkle in Rose's eyes now, one that bothered Ruth just the tiniest bit. How well did these two know each other exactly...how close had they become? There seemed to be a mystery surrounding their short courtship. But she wasn't going to let this go so easily. As her mother, it was her duty to make Rose aware.

"It may not seem like it now. But if you remember correctly, your father and I were almost seven years apart as well...and I won't deny that many of our problems later on stemmed from that gap between us." Ruth nodded to herself.

"I knew you'd bring that up..." Rose looked very frustrated and stood, pacing slightly in front of Ruth. "Listen...I know you have some reservations about Jack...and I could spend hours telling you what a wonderful person he is. But I know you Mother, and it wouldn't do any good, would it?" Ruth's head shot up at Rose's words, and she found herself wondering if what she say was actually true. Could she really be so slow to trust her daughter's own judgment?

"I," Ruth stood and clasped her hands in front of her, "I suppose not. So what are you suggesting?"

"Not a lot." Rose let a small smile escape her lips, and she turned toward Ruth, locking gazes with her, "Just that you try and enjoy yourself tonight. That you relax and let Jack be himself. I promise that if pay attention Mother, you'll see why I love him."

"Lo..ove him?" Ruth tried to appear nonchalant, but that was difficult after hearing such a strong word used. She considered what Rose had said. It didn't seem like such an odd request. But with every passing second, it seemed that this got more complicated.

"Mother..." Rose only shook her head at Ruth's response. Surely even Mother would see what a genuine man Jack was...if she would only allow those well-guarded walls down for just a moment. "Please?" Rose sighed and her eyes seemed to be pleading, until Ruth saw nothing else but the spirited little girl she had always known.

"Oh goodness...well, okay. I will try." Ruth eventually let her own face soften. "And you are sure you know what you're doing with him Rose? That you know what is involved here?"

Rose nodded, a serious expression in her eyes, "You have to trust me this time, Mother. I can't let what happened between you and Dad affect...or control, the choices I make. I can't use that as a standard. Jack is so different from that...you'll see." Rose glanced around the room, and her eyes fell on a small slip of paper that lay on the vanity. She picked it up and handed it to Ruth, who looked a little bit confused. It appeared to be some sort of newspaper clipping, rather old actually. "It's an article about Jack's father, when he died. From their local paper. He gave it to me to read a couple of weeks ago...and if you want to...just whenever you have the time this weekend?" Rose looked hopeful, and Ruth knew immediately that she owed her at least this. And so much more.

"Of course. I'm sure I'll find it interesting..." She reached for her purse on Rose's bed and gingerly slid the paper into the side pocket.

"Just be careful with it...and make sure you give it back. I think that's the original copy." Rose smiled, that brilliant, bright smile that Ruth remembered from when she was small. Her daughter certainly had grown to be beautiful, as well as talented and incredibly smart. She knew she should start giving Rose more credit for the latter.

"I will, darling. Won't he be here in a few minutes?" Rose grabbed her own tiny black purse and sighed, noticing that there was still a small catch in Mother's voice when she said "he". But this was a beginning...

"Yes, he will. Maybe we could wait outside on the porch? It feels nice outside I think."

Rose motioned for her to walk, and flipped the light switch down as she exited the room. Taking a deep breath, she prepared herself for what she was sure would be an intriguing evening...she just hoped in a positive way, and not the opposite. Jack had promised to pick a place even "Ruth Dewitt-Bukater would approve of"...as he had joked tenderly last night over the phone. And then of course there was the surprise he had briefly mentioned...

Chapter Ten
Stories