JOHN AND ROSE
Chapter Fifty-Five

November 8, 1931
Cedar Rapids, Iowa

John and Christopher sat in the waiting room at Mercy Hospital, where Ruth had been sent not long after Dr. Malone, the Anders Cedar Rapids company doctor, had examined her and diagnosed a heart attack.

Christopher fidgeted restlessly, wishing he’d made it back to Cedar Rapids a few days earlier, when he might have seen his grandmother in at least somewhat better health. When he had asked Dr. Malone if he thought she would be all right, the doctor had hemmed and hawed and finally said that they would run some tests at the hospital. Christopher didn’t find this encouraging, although he still held out some hope that Dr. Malone was simply covering his own back in case his diagnosis was wrong.

"Christopher, sit still."

Christopher jumped slightly at the sound of his stepfather’s voice, then stopped drumming his fingers on the arm of his chair. "Do you think Grandma Ruth will be okay, Uncle John?"

John hesitated. He had seen far more of illness and death in his life than Christopher had, but he wasn’t a doctor. Although Ruth had looked bad when he had seen her being loaded into a vehicle for the ride to the hospital, he couldn’t be sure of what it really meant.

"I don’t know, Christopher. Someone will tell us how she is doing when the tests are finished."

"But it’s been over an hour since we got here! What’s taking so long?"

"Would you rather they rushed and didn’t do everything they can for her?"

Christopher hung his head. "No…I’m just worried, is all." He hesitated, thinking. "Does Mom know?"

"I haven’t had access to a telephone, nor have I had time to send a telegram, so no, she doesn’t know."

"You are going to tell her, aren’t you? Even if she and Grandma Ruth are mad at each other, she’ll still want to know."

"I’ll call and tell her as soon as I have a chance—or you can call her. I have the number of the house she’s staying in."

"Uncle John…do you think Grandma Ruth might die?" Christopher’s voice was as quiet and forlorn as a child’s.

"I don’t know, Christopher. I’m not a doctor. I hope not, but…I really don’t know."

*****

Two hours later, a nurse in nun’s garb came to the waiting room, looking for them.

"Mr. Calvert? Mr. Dawson?"

John and Christopher got to their feet in a hurry, quickly making their way over to her. Christopher tugged at his hair nervously, his worry evident.

"Is she going to be okay?" he asked the nurse, looking afraid and hopeful at the same time.

She hesitated, bowing her head slightly. "Mr. Dawson, Mr. Calvert…it doesn’t look good, I’m afraid. I’m sorry."

John put a comforting arm around his stepson’s shoulders. "Can we see her?" he asked.

She gestured to them to follow her. "Dr. Caldwell would like to speak with you."

"Can we see her?" Christopher persisted.

"Yes, but Dr. Caldwell wants to talk to you first."

They followed her upstairs. Dr. Caldwell was waiting outside Ruth’s room. He nodded when he saw them approaching.

"Thank you, Sister Katherine. You can go now," he told her.

She nodded, turning and heading down the hall towards the nurse’s station, glancing back at the three men as she went.

"Mr. Calvert, may I speak to you alone?" Dr. Caldwell asked John.

"You can talk to me, too!" Christopher protested. "I’m her grandson!"

"Mr. Dawson…"

"He has the right to hear this, too, Dr. Caldwell. He’s been worrying about her for hours."

The doctor thought about it for a moment, then sighed. "All right. Mr. Calvert, Mr. Dawson, it doesn’t look good. Mrs. DeWitt Bukater has had a major heart attack, and I doubt she’ll live more than a few days, if that. She’s very weak, and getting weaker."

"But…" Christopher stared at Dr. Caldwell pleadingly. "Isn’t there something you can do? She’s my grandmother!"

"We’re doing everything we can," Dr. Caldwell told him, shaking his head. "It looks like she hasn’t been in good health for quite some time."

John nodded. "I don’t think she has been, either, although she never said anything. In fact, it seemed that her health was starting to deteriorate some months ago, and then she had a falling out with my wife and was expelled from our home. She’s been living with friends for the past two months, and working for Anders Cedar Rapids."

Dr. Caldwell shook his head. "She shouldn’t have been working."

"I tried to help her get on relief when I realized how hard the work was for her, but she wouldn’t take charity—not even when I tried to offer her money myself. She was happy enough to live with my family, but after the incident last summer, she seemed to want to stand on her own two feet and maintain her pride."

"She’s not that old," Christopher ventured. "She’s only sixty-one…I’ve known people who lived longer than that."

"Quite a number do," Dr. Caldwell agreed, "but…I’m afraid your grandmother isn’t going to be one of them."

"I don’t want her to die!" Christopher was trying to be brave and act like a man, but it was hard when the grandmother he’d grown close to over the years lay dying inside a cold, sterile hospital room.

"Christopher…" John shook his head. He remembered how hard it had been for him when he had received word of his mother’s death just over a year ago…and he hadn’t even be able to afford to attend the funeral in London. At least Christopher had returned home in time to see his grandmother once more. "May we see her now?" he asked Dr. Caldwell.

The doctor nodded, opening the door and escorting them inside the room. Ruth lay inside an oxygen tent, an IV attached to her left arm. Dr. Caldwell drew back one of the flaps of the oxygen tent.

"Mrs. DeWitt Bukater? Are you awake?"

Ruth groaned slightly, then opened her eyes, turning her head with effort to look at her visitors.

"Grandma Ruth?" Christopher stepped forward slowly, not sure what to say to her.

"Chris…you’re back…where’s…Rose?" Ruth struggled to speak, each word a great effort.

"She’s…she’s still in California, Grandma. We’re going to call her and tell her to come home…"

John nodded, hoping that Rose would agree to come home. Surely she would want to see her mother one last time, even under the circumstances in which they had parted.

"Ruth?" John leaned forward to speak to her.

"Hmm?" Ruth looked at him distantly, only half-aware he was there.

"We’ll get Rose home, whatever it takes…and you don’t have to worry about medical bills. I’ll take care of it…you’re family."

"Where’s…Rose?"

"She’ll be here as soon as she can, Ruth," John assured her, hoping that it was true. If Rose was going to come home to Cedar Rapids, he hoped it would be now.

*****

After he got home, John called the other members of the family to let them know what was going on. He called Nadia first. She was very distressed at the news, and John agreed to wire her the money for the trip home.

He called Mary next, and she told him that she would be on the next train to Iowa—she was making enough money of her own that John didn’t need to send any to her. He cautioned her not to speak to Rose about Ruth until he had contacted her himself.

Rose was the last one he called. He hesitated at first before phoning her, unsure of how she would react to the news that her mother was dying. She had still been angry with Ruth when she had left for California, and had felt that John had betrayed her by helping her mother. He had spoken to her a few times since, but the conversations had been short, and although he knew she was finished with her film, she had made no indication that she was coming home soon.

Finally, he put the call through to the bungalow Rose and the children were staying in. She answered on the second ring.

"Hello?"

"Rose? It’s John."

"Oh, John. I should be coming home soon…I just have a few more things to finish up here."

"Mary told me that you finished filming over a week ago." John couldn’t keep the anger out of his voice.

Rose was silent for a moment. Finally, she told him, "Some of my scenes needed re-shooting."

"Considering how many of your scenes included Mary, I think she would have told me if you were re-shooting anything."

Rose sighed, growing angry. "All right, John. Yes, you’re right. I finished the film over a week ago. I just didn’t want to come home yet. Things are very peaceful here, away from all the tension…of which you are one cause."

"I would prefer not to discuss this over the phone. Whatever problems we have, I want to discuss them in person."

"Do you plan on coming here, then? From the way you’re talking, I’m not so sure I want to come home."

"You have to come home sometime. Christopher is here, and you have our children with you. I have as much right to see them as you."

"I will come home when I’m good and ready."

"It had better be soon, if you want to see your mother again."

"Excuse me?"

John took a deep breath. "Look, Rose, I called you for a reason. I didn’t call you to complain that you haven’t come home yet, or to demand that you bring Jane and Peter back to Iowa. I called because your mother is dying, and she wants to see you one more time before she goes."

"What?" Rose couldn’t quite believe what she was hearing. "Mother is…dying?"

"She suffered a heart attack at work earlier today…the doctor doesn’t think she has much time left. If you want to see her again, you’ll come home immediately."

"I…I…"

"Rose, she’s your mother. Whatever disagreements you have, you’ll never forgive yourself if you don’t come to see her now."

"John, I…all right. I will pack up and get the next train to Iowa."

"Mary is already making train reservations. Call her and tell her your plans…you can travel together."

Rose took a deep breath, surprised at the catch in her throat. Mother is dying…if only I hadn’t put her out of the house, she might be all right.

"Rose?" John wondered at her silence.

"I…thank you, John, for telling me. I’ll see you in a few days."

"All right. Good-bye, Rose."

"Good-bye, John. I—"

He had already hung up.

Shakily, Rose replaced the receiver and leaned against the wall a moment. She was going home to Iowa. She hadn’t been sure when, or if, she would return, but the decision had been taken out of her hands.

*****

John awoke to the sound of the phone ringing. Squinting at his alarm clock in the darkness, he saw that it was not quite three o’clock in the morning. With a sense of dread, he got up and hurried down the stairs to the telephone. Christopher followed after him, looking at the telephone with the same dread John felt.

On the sixth ring, John answered the phone. "Hello?"

"Mr. Calvert?"

"Speaking."

"Mr. Calvert, this is Sister Katherine with Mercy Hospital. It is my sad duty to inform you that your mother-in-law, Ruth DeWitt Bukater, passed away about half an hour ago."

John looked at Christopher, seeing from the look on the young man’s face that he already knew. "Is she…" Christopher whispered.

John nodded, holding out a comforting hand to his stepson, who looked like he might cry. However Rose felt about her mother, Christopher had loved his grandmother.

John’s thoughts were interrupted by Sister Katherine’s voice. "Mr. Calvert? Are you still there?"

John cleared his throat. "Uh…yes. Yes, I’m still here."

"We need someone to come to the hospital to fill out the paperwork. You can wait until morning if you want, but…"

"No…I’ll be there in about half an hour." John knew there would be no getting back to sleep tonight.

"All right, Mr. Calvert…someone will meet with you at the hospital."

"Thank you, Sister Katherine."

When John hung up the phone, he found that Christopher had raced upstairs to get his clothes and was even now hurrying into them. "I’m going with you," the young man announced stubbornly.

John just nodded. "All right, Christopher. We’ll leave as soon as I’m dressed."

Chapter Fifty-Six
Stories