ADJUSTING
Chapter Four

 

First Comes Love
March 23, 1913

John took one last look in the mirror before heading down the hallway to Rose’s bedroom. They were going out to dinner on this particular evening and he wanted to make a good impression. His brown hair hung loose, some wisps falling in front of his eyes every now and then. I really should get this cut, he thought. His green eyes sparkled with delight. He was finally going out with Rose. It really meant a lot to him.

The tall, handsome John Calvert gracefully strolled out of his room and down the hallway to meet Rose.

John lightly knocked on Rose’s bedroom door. "Rose, are you ready?"

"Yeah, in just a second. You can come in," she replied. She was wearing a new dress just for the occasion. It was a very pale pink chiffon, with dark green trimming. Lynn had agreed to watch Hope for the evening. She said she would keep the baby in her room. That way, in case she came home late, she could just fall right asleep. Lynn even seemed excited about the whole idea. Rose was glad that she could from now on count on her to have a baby-sitter.

John opened the door and stood there, dumbfounded. She was even more beautiful that he thought possible. Rose looked up at him from her mirror. She was putting some final touches on her hair and makeup.

"Well, are you going to come in or not?" she asked playfully.

"I--uh...yes, I mean...Rose, you look gorgeous." She blushed slightly.

"Thank you," she said softly. She grabbed her handbag and shoved a few things in it--powder, lipstick, and a few spare coins. After all, you never know. "So, are we ready, then?"

"I guess so. Shall we?"

"Certainly." She stood up from her chair and took John’s arm. They descended down the staircase and out the door to the car. They took a short ride to the middle of the city to a restaurant that Rose had not heard of before called Angela’s.

John got up and opened the door for Rose. He held out his arm, and she took it gladly. All throughout their eyes were locked. They walked into the restaurant and the host showed them to their table.

The decor of the restaurant was very elegant but pleasant. Rose did not feel uncomfortable here at all.

John walked to Rose’s side of the table and pulled out her chair for her. "Thank you," she said sweetly.

Their waiter came to their table. "Would you like something to drink, sir?"

"Rose, would you like some wine?" John asked her.

"Sure. That sounds lovely." Her voice was so light and airy on this particular evening that he felt as if he were floating among the clouds whenever she spoke. She was like an angel in disguise.

"A bottle of white zinfandel would be nice," John said to the waiter. Rose had to smile; it was her favorite wine.

"Of course, sir." He excused himself and left John and Rose to their own conversation.

There was a moment of silence that was actually enjoyed between them. It was not awkward at all--quite the opposite, in fact. For a long while, they just sat there and stared into the other’s eyes and felt completely content being in each other’s company. No words were necessary.

"Rose...I have something to say. I’m not sure how this is going to come out, so I might as well just say it and get it over with."

"What is it, John?"

"Rose..." For the first time that night, his eyes left Rose’s and fell to the ground. "I love you."

Rose had seen this coming, and in all reality had wanted to hear it. "John...I--"

John cut her short. "No, Rose. Don’t say it. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything so soon."

"Are you quite finished?" she asked. He nodded. "Good. Now, what I was about to say was that I love you, too." His eyes returned to meet Rose’s gaze, and he thought that he had heard wrong. His expression at first was that of confusion, then transformed into pure joy. The widest grin imaginable formed across his face.

Unconsciously, their hands met on the tabletop. Their fingers intertwined with each other’s. John missed the feeling of being in love. Not just loving someone, but having them return that love. He felt as though his heart had been set free to soar with the birds.

The remainder of their evening was spent in light conversation over life, emotions, the future, and so many other things they could not remember. The world seemed to be revolving around only two people--John Calvert and Rose Dawson.

*****

That evening after dinner, John and Rose arrived back at the house. The evening had been so magical that neither wanted it to end. So why did it?

John stopped the car and got out. He walked to the passenger side of the car and opened the door for Rose. She took his hand and carefully stepped down. However, she tripped over her own feet and fell right into John’s arms.

"Whoa. Are you all right?" he asked in concern.

"Yes, I’m fine. Just a little embarrassed, is all." They were still holding each other, not wanting to let go. The stars shone around them, so bright and brilliant. It created such a romantic atmosphere that their love consumed them. He lifted her chin so she was looking at him once again. Before they knew it, they were leaning into each other and their lips were locked. Rose put her arms around his neck and pulled him closer to her. The heat from his body made her forget all about the cold.

They stayed there for a while, surrendering to the moment and to each other. When they at last parted, they both agreed that they should head back inside. It was getting late…not to mention chilly.

When they walked in the doors, they found that everyone had already gone to bed. John turned on a table lamp and looked lovingly into Rose’s eyes. She once again pulled him close to her. She stroked his long brown hair. "I want you to know how much this evening has meant to me," she commented softly. "Thank you." She kissed him sweetly on the lips. "But I fear if I don’t go up to my room right now, I’m not going to be able to control myself."

"Me, either," he whispered. "So, good night, Rose. I’ll see you tomorrow."

"Good night. I love you." She gave him one last kiss and reluctantly parted from him. He watched her as she walked up the staircase, just like the very first day he realized that he loved her.

He made himself a small snack, and then he, too, headed off to bed. Their dreams were to be of each other.

Chapter Five
Stories