AFTER TITANIC
Chapter Fifteen
"Abby!" Rose called,
opening the door to her apartment. No answer. "Abby, are you home?"
Still no answer. Then she was still at Meg’s, probably spending some time with Klaus,
Meg’s son, who was sixteen now, just a year older than Abby. Though Abby may
not have known it herself yet, she seemed to like him as more than just a
friend. Rose laughed at the realization that Abby, too, would soon fall in love
with someone. Ah…to be in love, Rose thought.
Exhausted, she half sat, half
fell on the sofa in the living room. She was too beat to go lie down in her
room, or even grab a book to read, so she passed the time by gazing at the
photographs that sat on the mantle.
A faded one of Abby’s first
birthday, another of her fifth. One of the two of them playing in the park, and
one of Abby, Mary, Meg, Rose, and Elin--Meg’s daughter. They were all lined up
in chronological order, and Rose felt like she was going back in time as she stared
at them. Soon she came to some of her favorites. Rose and her daughter sitting
on an elephant when the circus was in town when Abby was about ten. Another of
Mary’s graduation from St. Martin’s. And then her most beloved. Rose and Abby,
sitting together on a horse, riding western style, right in the surf. That one
was taken last year, during their vacation to Santa Monica.
The wonderful memories Rose had
made with her daughter were too many to count. "Thanks, Jack," she
whispered. "Thanks for Abby."
"Mother!" Rose heard
Abby calling as she opened the door and came into the living room.
"Oh, good. You’re home. How
was school today?"
"It was fine." Abby sat
on the couch next to Rose. "I finished The Sun Also Rises during
study hall," Abby said proudly.
"I thought you read that
when you were thirteen."
"I did. But I didn’t
understand a word of it so I had to read it again." Rose smiled proudly at
her daughter. She was so smart. Rose knew Abby could do anything she wanted
with her life. There was a boring silence.
"So…" said Rose,
looking for something to talk about. "Guess what Miss Crawford wants me to
do?"
"What?"
Rose tried not to grin as she
said, "Give the talk to the younger teenagers."
Abby burst out laughing.
"Does she know you got pregnant at seventeen?" And the two of them
laughed hysterically. That was their relationship. The were best friends first,
mother and daughter second. Rose was only thirty-two years old now, but seemed
younger. And Abby acted older than her fifteen years. But both were just girls
at heart.
There was a knock at the door and
Abby stood up to answer it. "Mom," she shouted.
Rose, almost too tired to stand,
went to the door. "Ah…James! Hello! I didn’t know you were coming."
Abby excused herself and went to her room to read, and Rose invited James into
the living room. James lived a floor below her. He was a director at a local
theater, about Rose’s age, a widower and single father. The two were good
friends. "So, James," Rose said, after bringing him a cup of tea. "What
brings you here?"
He brought the teacup to his lips
and took a long sip, as if he were avoiding speaking. He looked nervous.
"I was wondering if…" He stopped and closed his eyes. "I was
wondering if Abby could watch Margaret tomorrow after school," he said too
quickly. "I have to go…somewhere." Rose could tell that that was not
what he came there to say and he had changed the subject.
"We are always happy to look
after Margaret," said Rose, referring to his six-year-old motherless
daughter. "Is that all?" James nodded. "James…" Rose
hesitated, wondering if she should go there.
"Yes, Rose?" he asked
eagerly.
"James, you seem distracted.
Are you all right?" Rose was concerned about her friend.
"No, I’m fine. Really."
"All right, then. Well, I
should—"
"I lied," James interrupted.
"There is something."
"Well…all right," said
Rose in wonderment. What does he want? she thought.
James looked at the ground and
shuffled his feet. He twitched his thumbs and looked unsure. "I’m just
going to say it." He looked Rose in the eye, and she noticed for the first
time how handsome he really was. "Rose," he almost breathed her name,
"Will you…have dinner with me…on Friday…the two of us?"
"Oh," said Rose. Then,
"Oh," again. "James, I—"
"You don’t have to answer me
right away," he said, clearly afraid of rejection. "Just promise me
you’ll think about it." Rose nodded slowly.
"I’ll think about it,"
she promised.
"Right," he said. There
was an awkward silence. "Well, I should go." He stood up.
"Good-bye." He went to the door. She followed. "Rose," he
said, and let the word linger as he left the apartment, leaving Rose to ponder
his bold invitation.
"Abby!" Rose cried.
"Abby, I need you!" The girl came running out of her room.
"What is it? Is everything
all right? Are you hurt? Where’s James?" Abby was frantic.
"One question at a
time," said Rose, and she led her daughter back to her room. They sat on
the bed. "James just asked me out! Can you believe it?"
Abby’s eyes suddenly grew wide,
and a grin appeared on her face. Then she giggled and clapped her hands in pure
amusement, as a child does when she is happy. "Finally!" she cried.
"I thought he would never work up the nerve!"
"What are you talking
about?" Rose was completely confused.
"Oh, Mother, he’s completely
crazy about you! Didn’t you know?" Rose shook her head slowly. "Well,
don’t you like him?" Rose shrugged. "You did say yes, didn’t
you?"
"No," said Rose, and
noticed the disappointment in her child’s eyes. "But I didn’t say no,
either. He told me to think about it."
"Well, go find him. Go on!
Go say yes!" Rose lowered her eyes and stared at her hands. "I don’t
understand. You are friends. You like him. Maybe it could be something more.
What’s the problem?"
"He’s not Jack." Rose
threw her head into her pillow again and again, wishing she had something hard
she could bang it against.
Abby steadied her mother and
looked into her eyes. "Mom, I love him, too. I’m not looking for a new
father. But…"
"Go on."
"Mother, I’m fifteen,"
she said, in a dramatic way that caught her mother off guard. "In a few
years, I will be going off to university. What then? You will be all
alone." Rose had thought about this before. And she was dreading the day
when the girl would leave home. "You told me about your final promise to
him. To make lots of babies. Watch them grow. Well, this baby is all grown up.
I’m not saying you have to marry James, but you should go to dinner with
him."
Rose sighed heavily and buried
her face in her hands. "I just don’t think I’m ready yet."
"You may never be ready. But
maybe it’s time you found out."
The next day, when James came to
drop off his darling little Margaret, Rose invited him inside for some tea. He
sat at the table, tapping a beat upon the wood with his fingers. He seemed
anxious. Rose knew why. She poured the brew, but he imbibed nothing. "Have
you…thought about…my invitation?" he asked finally. Rose nodded.
"And…?"
Rose had had every intention of
accepting, but as she looked at him, all she could see was Jack.
"James…I…" She hesitated. "I’m sorry, but I can’t. I’m not ready.
I’m so sorry." James seemed fine with it, but she could tell that he was
hurting inside. Oh, God, Rose thought. I’m never going to go on, am I?