JOHN AND ROSE
Chapter Twenty-Three

March 15, 1928

"Mother, please. I’m fine. I don’t need to rest." Rose made her way slowly down the stairs, her enormous middle preceding her. Ruth followed after her, shaking her head.

"Rose, before you were born, I took the time to rest. I wanted to make sure I would have a healthy baby."

"I want a healthy baby, too, Mother. But things are different now. Exercise is not so frowned upon. Besides, I worked hard all through my pregnancy with Christopher, and he turned out fine. Things have been much easier this time—no toddlers to chase, a doctor instead of a midwife, and a housekeeper to do the heavy work."

"You worked for months, even though you knew you were expecting. This is why women are supposed to stay home."

"Mother, I’m fine, and so is the baby. I did not work too hard, and my movie studio is more of a success than had I hoped. All that exercise kept me from getting fat and weak. Strong women have strong babies."

"You’re not a young girl anymore, Rose. It was one thing for you to work so hard before you had Christopher, but you’re older now."

"Older and wiser. I know how to take care of myself better now, and there’s always good food and medicine if I need it. Besides, Dr. Lauersen examined me yesterday, and the baby and I are both fine. It won’t be long now."

"Rose, I’m your mother. You really should listen to me."

"I do listen to you—and to John, and to Dr. Lauersen. Then I make my own decisions."

"You should listen to your doctor."

"I do. He told me to exercise."

Ruth shook her head. "These young doctors don’t know nearly enough about bringing babies into the world. Why, when you were born—"

"When I was born, far more babies died. Some things have changed for the better."

"You survived."

"So did Christopher, and I worked far more when I was carrying him than I have this time."

"Rose, at least sit down and let me get you a cup of tea."

Rose sighed. "All right, Mother."

She sat down in a parlor chair, putting her feet up. When Ruth had learned that Rose was pregnant, she had insisted upon coming to Cedar Rapids to help her. Rose had protested, reminding Ruth that she had a job in Philadelphia, and that she would lose it if she came to Cedar Rapids for so long. Ruth had replied that she had been offered a job with the formal attire store in Cedar Rapids, and could easily make the move.

Rose had still protested, but had finally given in when Ruth had put a guilt trip on her, complaining that Rose simply didn’t want her to see her new grandchild and share in its life. Rose had finally told Ruth to come to Cedar Rapids—and had immediately found herself inundated with her mother’s well-meaning advice. Ruth had not yet found a place to live when she moved to Cedar Rapids, so she had moved in with the Calverts, much to Rose’s dismay. She loved her mother, but she didn’t want her living with her.

Thus far, her efforts to get her to move out had been unsuccessful—Ruth was determined to be at her daughter’s side every moment, and Rose couldn’t think of a good reason to send her away. She had offered to help Ruth find a small house to live in, but Ruth had replied that she was fine where she was—and that Rose would be grateful for her presence once the baby was born.

Rose’s only respite from her mother’s well-meaning meddling was when Ruth went to work, and she had pointedly placed circled ads for rooms or houses for rent on her mother’s pillow, trying to get her to move out. Ruth, however, was happy right where she was—living in the lap of luxury, with her daughter to fuss over and her grandchildren to dote on, and Rose could do nothing but gnash her teeth in frustration. Ruth needed a home of her own and something to occupy her besides Rose and her family, but thus far she hadn’t found anything.

Rose looked up as Ruth came into the parlor, carrying two cups of tea. She handed one to Rose, then sat down in a nearby chair. Rose took a sip from her cup, stretching uncomfortably. The baby lay heavily within her, and her back had been aching off and on since early morning, making her suspect that the birth would occur soon.

Ruth watched her closely. "Are you all right, Rose? I still think you should rest."

"I am resting, Mother." Rose gritted her teeth.

"Now, Rose, I’m only trying to help—"

"Mother, I’m fine. The baby is fine. It will be born soon, with or without rest."

"Have you experienced any labor pains yet?"

"Maybe. I’m not sure. My back has been aching off and on, but at this stage, that’s to be expected."

"That’s how it was when you were born, thirty-three years ago. Trust me, Rose. I know about childbirth."

"So do I, Mother," Rose responded dryly. "This is my second child by birth, remember?"

"Yes, but it’s been many years since Christopher was born."

"And even longer since I was born." She set the cup aside. "Help me up."

"Finish your tea first, Rose."

Rose sighed. "You don’t want me to drink more first, Mother. Trust me."

With a sigh, Ruth helped her out of the chair. Rose stood as straight as she could, then waddled in the direction of the downstairs bathroom.

*****

As she was washing up, Rose looked at herself in the mirror. Her midsection protruded far out ahead of her, making her feel like one of the airships that transported people over land and sea—huge and inflated. She had gained thirty pounds with this pregnancy, and hoped that the baby would be born soon.

As if in response to her thoughts, she felt her back muscles tighten again—but this time it didn’t stop with her back, but went around her, tightening her stomach muscles as well. She waited for a moment, hoping that it was the beginning of labor. When the tightness eased, she sighed, making her way out of the bathroom. Maybe it was the beginning of labor, but if it was it was showing every sign of taking a long time.

She made her way back to the parlor, steeling herself to face more of her mother’s advice.

*****

As the afternoon progressed, the occasional tightening of Rose’s muscles progressed into labor. She was pleased, but hid the fact from Ruth until her labor was well-advanced, not wanting any extra advice. By late afternoon, when the kids were home from school, she was ready to send for the doctor.

"Mother." Rose waddled back into the parlor, where Ruth was listening to the radio. "It’s time."

Ruth got quickly to her feet, as excited as if it were her own child. "Let me get you upstairs, Rose."

"Mother, wait. Call the doctor first, and then call John. He should be home soon anyway, but just in case…"

"All right, dear. But I want you to go upstairs and lie down. Have Mary and Nadia help you."

Rose sighed. "Yes, Mother." She wondered at the wisdom of exposing two impressionable young girls to childbirth, then shrugged. When she was their age, she was already a mother.

"Mary, Nadia." Rose went into the kitchen, where all three high schoolers were sitting at the table, ostensibly doing their homework, though Rose caught a glimpse of a paperback detective novel hidden inside Christopher’s textbook.

"Hey, Mom." Mary looked up from her English book. She was thoroughly sick of school, but had to deal with it until she graduated in June. Nadia would be graduating also, even though she had started school a year after Mary had. Her scholarly sister, when given the chance, had taken extra classes, until she was ready to graduate a year early.

"Nana Ruth wants you to help me get upstairs and get settled. The baby is coming."

"Really?" Nadia pushed her books away, dumping a cat out of her lap as she ran over to Rose.

"Yes, really. Nana Ruth is calling the doctor and your father, but she wants you to help me get ready."

"I thought she said we were young and impressionable." Mary frowned, glad for the chance to set her books aside but wondering why they were being asked to help. The doctor would be there soon enough, and Nana Ruth hadn’t seemed to want them to know much about what would happen when Rose had the baby.

Rose shrugged. "She’s concerned for me."

"Why? You’ve had a baby before. You had Christopher."

Rose just shook her head. "She’s my mother. It’s her job to worry about me, just like it’s my job to worry about you." She took the detective novel from Christopher. "Do your homework."

He turned around to look at her. "Can I help, too?" In spite of his embarrassment over his mother’s swollen belly and the prospect of a new baby brother or sister, he was still intrigued by what was happening. And, at any rate, helping his mother was infinitely preferable to studying his Latin.

Mary rolled her eyes. "Christopher, this is a private thing for ladies."

"So why are you helping?"

"You little brat!" Mary went after him, but Rose stopped her.

"Why don’t all three of you accompany me upstairs? It isn’t every day that you get a new brother or sister. Then Mary can help me get ready to lie down, since she is an adult. You can all sit with me until the doctor arrives. Now, let’s go on up before Nana Ruth decides to help, too."

At that moment, Ruth appeared in the doorway. "The doctor is on his way. I called John, too, but his secretary said that he left just a couple of minutes before I called and should be on his way home."

"Thank you, Mother. Why don’t you wait for John and the doctor? The kids will help me upstairs." Rose waddled out of the room, the kids following her, before Ruth could object.

*****

John arrived home a few minutes later. As he walked into the house, stamping the snow from his shoes, he called for is wife, who had been home every day for the past month, waiting for the birth of their child.

"Rose! I’m home!"

Ruth came into the entryway. "She’s upstairs, getting ready to lie down. The baby is coming."

"Right now?" John tossed his coat onto a hook and pushed past Ruth, heading for the stairs. "Excuse me. I have to go see her."

Ruth followed him, more slowly, to be greeted by the sight of Christopher and Nadia in the hall, their ears pressed to the door. They jumped back guiltily when they saw their father and grandmother.

"What are you doing?" Ruth asked, staring severely at them.

"We’re waiting for Mary to finish helping Mom lie down," Nadia explained. "She’s an adult, so she can."

John knocked on the door. "Rose! Mary!"

"Just a minute, Dad!" Mary called back, helping Rose into bed. Rose clutched her stomach as another contraction lanced through her. After more than fifteen years, she had forgotten just what childbirth felt like.

Mary finally opened the door, revealing the four family members crowding around it. "You can come in now," she said, as prim as any nurse.

John was immediately at Rose’s side. "How are you doing?"

Rose grimaced. "I’m fine, except that it’s a bit uncomfortable."

"Only a bit? As I recall, you screamed quite a lot when Christopher was born."

"Yes, well…it will probably still be a while before the baby comes. Is the doctor here yet?"

"I’ll go check," Christopher volunteered, darting from the room. His mother and uncle John looked like they were about to kiss, and although he wanted to try kissing a girl himself, he didn’t like to see his mother and stepfather kissing. It was much too embarrassing.

He ran to the front door and looked out, seeing the doctor’s car coming slowly along the ice-slicked road. When the man arrived, Christopher ran out to greet him, unmindful of the cold.

"My mother is having the baby," he said, more worried than he was willing to let on.

"So your grandmother said. Let’s go inside, shall we?"

Christopher darted up the stairs again. "Mom! Uncle John! The doctor’s here!"

Rose sat up as Christopher ran in, followed by Dr. Lauersen. "Thank you, Christopher. Thank you for coming, Dr. Lauersen."

"You’re my patient, Mrs. Calvert. Of course I came." He turned to the others. "I’ll need for you to wait outside now. I’ll inform you when something happens."

"I’m staying," Ruth told him firmly. "I missed most of my grandson’s life, and I’ll be darned if I’ll miss the birth of my new grandchild."

"Mother…" Rose lay back against the pillows. There was no use in trying to talk Ruth out of something once she had her heart set on it. "All right. You can stay. Just…don’t disturb the doctor, all right?"

"Rose, I know how to act when a doctor is performing an examination. You don’t need to worry."

Rose sighed and pushed down the blankets, allowing the doctor to examine her, while Ruth watched at a discreet distance.

"You’re coming along fine, Mrs. Calvert. It shouldn’t be more than another three or four hours."

Rose groaned, not looking forward to hours of laboring. Ruth came to sit beside her.

"You’ll be fine, Rose. These things take time."

"I know that, Mother," Rose said, but then she looked up at her, comforted by her presence. It was good to have her there, even if she did meddle.

*****

John sat in his study, across the hall from the bedroom he shared with Rose, idly sorting through a stack of papers. Rose had been more quiet this time, although she had recently begun crying out more, rattling his nerves and making him wish he could go inside and ease her pain.

From downstairs, he could hear the voices of the three teenagers, discussing school, dating, the new baby, and anything related to those things. They had finally finished their homework, after much lecturing from him and complaining from Mary and Christopher. Christopher had wanted his detective novel back when he was done, but Rose had taken it with her to their room, and he knew that his interruption wouldn’t be welcomed.

He had forgotten about dinner, but the kids hadn’t, so he had allowed them to make hamburgers for themselves. Mary and Nadia had eaten daintily, eating only one each, plus a piece of leftover apple pie, but Christopher had helped himself to four, and then complained because the girls had finished off the pie. Evidently, concern for his mother hadn’t dulled his appetite.

John glanced at the clock, measuring how long it had been. Three hours. It wouldn’t be much longer—he hoped.

*****

Rose cried out, clutching her mother’s hand, as another contraction ripped through her. Only three or four hours, the doctor had said—but it felt like she had been lying there forever, struggling to bring her baby into the world. She glared at Dr. Lauersen, suddenly put out with all men, everywhere, including her doctor and her husband.

Dr. Lauersen bent down to examine her again when the contraction ended. He nodded his approval.

"It shouldn’t be long now, Mrs. Calvert. You’re fully dilated."

"It’s about time," Rose grumbled, wanting nothing more than to get the baby born.

"You’re doing fine, Rose," Ruth assured her, wiping her daughter’s sweaty brow. "Just give it a little more time."

"I don’t want to give it a little more time! I want it born now!" Rose clapped a hand over her mouth. "My God. I’m starting to sound like my teenage son." She groaned as another contraction started. "Mother…"

"You’ll be fine, Rose. Just push. And remember, the word no can save you from this predicament."

"You’re the one who wanted more grandchildren." Rose gasped, bearing down.

"You never listened to me before."

"I did, too. And I want this baby. I just don’t want to be in labor anymore."

"You haven’t got far to go," Dr. Lauersen assured her. "Just let your body show you what to do."

"I know what to do! I have a son!"

"Good. Then do it."

"Don’t patronize me." Rose gritted her teeth, arching her neck and pushing. She felt a gush of warm fluid as her water broke. Crying out, she gripped the sheet, almost pulling it free, and kept bearing down.

The pain ended. "You’re almost there, Mrs. Calvert," the doctor told her. "I can see the head."

Rose moaned as the next contraction started, the sound rising to a high-pitched shriek of pain. But in spite of the pain, she kept pushing, determined to end her labor as soon as possible. She felt the baby’s head emerge as she pushed, and then it slid from her body, wailing as it took its first breath.

"It’s a girl!" Dr. Lauersen announced, cradling the crying newborn and cutting through the umbilical cord. He wrapped her in a blanket and handed her to Rose.

Rose took her newborn, pulling the blanket back to examine her. The baby had a thick patch of red hair on her head, far more hair than Christopher had had at birth. Her little face was screwed up in an angry wail, her tiny arms and legs flailing.

"Look at her, Mother." Rose showed Ruth the newborn. "She’s beautiful."

"She looks just like you did when you were born, Rose, except that she has more hair."

"She must get it from John. Christopher didn’t have this much hair at birth, either."

When Rose had brought forth the afterbirth and Dr. Lauersen had finished taking care of her, he took the baby from her to check her over and clean her. Rose watched his every move as he cleaned the baby and examined her, then diapered her, wrapped her in a clean blanket, and placed her back in her mother’s arms.

"Congratulations, Mrs. Calvert." He smiled at her. "Would you like me to go and get your husband now?"

"Yes, please," Rose told him, laying back in exhaustion. She cradled the baby closer, positioning her so that Ruth could see her new granddaughter.

*****

John stood outside the bedroom door, waiting. He had heard Rose’s scream, followed quickly by a baby’s cry. Now, he waited anxiously, wanting to know exactly what had happened.

Dr. Lauersen opened the door, almost running into him. He started, then steadied himself.

"Mr. Calvert."

"How did it go?" John tried to look around him into the bedroom.

"Your wife and daughter are both fine."

"It’s a girl?"

The doctor nodded. "It is indeed. Healthy, strong, and with a powerful set of lungs."

"Can I come in?"

Dr. Lauersen nodded, stepping aside. John went straight to Rose, sitting down beside her. Ruth moved out of the way.

"How are you doing?"

"I’m fine." Rose looked at him sleepily. "We have a daughter, John. Look at her. Isn’t she beautiful?"

"She looks just like you." He touched a tiny cheek, smiling as the baby turned her head and moved her mouth in a suckling motion.

Rose looked more closely at her daughter. "She resembles you, too. Look at that hair."

"Lucky her."

Rose punched him playfully on the arm. "You look fine. She’s lucky to have hair like yours."

There was a knock at the door as Ruth returned, the three teenagers following after her.

"Come in!" John called, opening the door.

Mary, Nadia, and Christopher piled in, jostling to see their new sister. Finally, they hopped onto John’s side of the bed, making Rose groan as the motion jarred her sore body.

"Look at her!" Nadia exclaimed, touching a tiny fist. The baby promptly curled it around Nadia’s finger and hung on tight.

"She’s so cute." Mary took the other fist, leaning over making cooing noises.

Christopher made a face. Moving closer to his mother and newborn sister, he looked at the baby, who was beginning to whimper.

"Would you like to hold her, Christopher?" Rose offered, wanting her son to have the first chance to hold the baby, since she was his first blood sibling.

"Me?" Christopher looked a little nervous, though he tried to hide it. "I don’t know how to hold a baby. What if I drop her?"

"You won’t drop her. Come on. Sit next to me." Rose handed the fussing baby to her brother, showing him how to hold her, while Mary and Nadia watched enviously, waiting for their chance to hold their new sister.

The baby stopped crying almost immediately, opening her eyes and staring blankly at her brother. Christopher stared at her with an expression of wonder.

"She likes me."

"Of course. You’re her brother."

"What’s her name?" Mary wanted to know, watching as Christopher held the baby a moment longer and then passed her to Nadia.

John and Rose hesitated. "We haven’t decided yet," John told her, looking at his baby daughter. He knew what he wanted to call her, but he wanted Rose’s consent to the name.

Rose seemed to sense what he was thinking. "What do you want to name her?" she asked, looking at John.

He hesitated again. How could he tell Rose that he wanted to name the baby for his late wives? It wasn’t the sort of thing one did, even when the current wife had been an acquaintance of one of his late wives.

Finally, he decided to tell her. "I want to call her Jane," he told her. "Jane Miriam."

"Jane Miriam." Rose mulled the name over, knowing where it came from. She wasn’t jealous or angry, though. The name was a tribute to those who had died, and they were no threat to her.

"You want to name her after my birth mother?" Mary asked, looking pleased. "Could you?"

"What do you think, Rose?" John asked, taking the baby from Mary and rocking her gently, as he had rocked Mary many nights after her mother had died.

"I think we can do that." Rose smiled, stroking the baby’s head. "Does she resemble her at all?"

"Only in the color of her hair. Jane had red hair, just like Mary."

"And I knew Miriam." Rose took the baby back, rocking her to sleep. "The name doesn’t bother me, John, if that’s what’s worrying you. It’s a nice tribute. I didn’t know Jane, but I thought rather highly of Miriam, though we weren’t close. If you want to name her Jane Miriam Calvert, it’s all right with me."

"That’s her name, then." John took the sleeping baby from his wife. "Dr. Lauersen is downstairs with your mother, having a cup of coffee and filling out the birth certificate. I’ll give him the name."

He stood, placing the sleeping infant in the cradle near Rose. Turning to the three teenagers, he ushered them out, then leaned down and gave Rose a kiss on the forehead.

"She’s beautiful, Rose. Thank you."

Rose gave him a sleepy smile. "You’re welcome, John. I love you."

"I love you, too, Rose. Get some rest now. I’ll go take care of the birth certificate."

Rose nodded, already dozing off. She curled up comfortably, something she hadn’t been able to do in several months, and closed her eyes.

John closed the door quietly behind him as he went to announce the name.

Chapter Twenty-Four
Stories