MAKING IT COUNT
Chapter Three

Encounter
December 17, 1913

Molly watched as the twelve o’clock train pulled into the train station. It was amazing that it was actually on time. She hadn’t planned on being there to meet Rose at the station, but she thought it would be nice to. It had been long enough since she last saw Rose, and she couldn’t wait any longer.

As the doors were pulled open, Molly searched the crowd for Rose. After all the passengers had departed, she didn’t see any sign of her. Perhaps it was the wrong train?

Molly walked to the information booth, confused. "Hey, sonny."

"Yes, ma’am? Can I help you?"

"Is there another train comin’ in around this time?"

"Yes, ma’am. It should be here in about ten minutes. This one here," the boy pointed to the train, "is a late arrival from Iowa, I believe."

"Thank you," Molly replied. Iowa, she thought. I wonder if John came in on this one. Molly walked towards the crowds again, and this time started looking for John. Over on the other side of the platform, she saw him sitting on a bench. He seemed to be fondling something in his hand...or more in his fingers.

Molly made her way towards him with concern. He had such a look of despondency on his face. He leaned his head up against the wall behind him and looked up at the sky. He still fondled whatever object it was in his fingers. He finally put it back into his pocket and stood up, picking up his traveling bag in the process. That was when he finally saw Molly walking towards him.

"John, how good to see you again." Molly put her arms around him and gave him a big hug. He dropped his bag and put his arms around Molly.

"Well, I didn’t expect you to be here. I told you I would just take a taxi." He pulled away and looked at Molly. The height difference between them must have looked extremely odd. John was rather tall, around six feet three inches. Whereas Molly was rather short.

"Well...actually, I’m here to meet Rose." John turned pale and he felt dizzy.

"I, uh…I think I’d better head on to the house, then. I don’t think…" John had a hard time catching his breath. "I don’t think I can see her right now."

Molly looked at him with great confusion and concern. "Are you all right, John?"

"Yes, yes, I’ll be fine. I just haven’t slept in a few days. I think I should head on to the house and do just that. Is it all right if I take my old room?"

"Of course. Shall I tell Rose that you’re there?"

"No," he said quickly. A little too quickly, as far as Molly was concerned. "No, thank you. I’d rather you not. If you’ll excuse me." He tipped his hat to her and started to walk away just as his train left, and Rose’s train began to pull in.

"I wish somebody would tell me what the hell is going on here," Molly muttered underneath her breath. She heard the train come to a screeching stop, and she began searching among the arriving passengers once again for Rose.

There. She finally saw Rose’s distinctive red hair glowing in the sunshine. She was holding Hope in her left arm while carrying her bag in her right hand. She was walking in the opposite direction from Molly until she heard someone call out her name.

"Rose!" Rose’s face lit up. She knew that voice.

"Molly!" She spun around and saw Molly walking, nearly running, towards her. She gave Rose soft hug.

"Oh, look at you! You look wonderful, Rose. And who is this stunning young lady?" she asked playfully. Hope looked at Molly and smiled. She was nearly a year old now. It was amazing how fast she was growing. Molly held her arms out, wanting to hold her. Rose placed her in Molly’s arms. Molly bounced her up and down, and the child giggled.

"I didn’t expect you to be here. I assumed you would be busy." Rose picked up her suitcase, and the three of them started moving towards the car.

"I just couldn’t wait any longer. Lynn wanted to be here, but she and Jack are visiting his sister. Lynn didn’t say exactly what was wrong. Only that she was ill."

"Oh? Where does Jack’s sister live?"

"Just up near Vanderbilt Park. I guess they like to keep their family close. Ah…here we are." They finally came upon the car. There was a man standing there reading a newspaper, much the way John was when Rose first met him. He looked up and saw the women approaching. He opened the door and extended his hand for Molly to get in.

"Good afternoon ma’am, miss."

"Afternoon," Rose replied. She climbed into the car, her old habits coming back into place. She sat up straight and placed her hands delicately in her lap. She looked down at her hands, noticing she had done it again. She quickly moved them and slouched back into the seat. Why she did that every time she was in a car remained a mystery to her. She was now living the working class girl life. Why did her old habits suddenly take control of her like that?

It was rather cold out on that particular afternoon, and Rose was sorry she had packed her coat in her suitcase. She had forgotten that Denver could, and most likely would be, colder than New York. Well, she thought to herself, it’s warm in here, anyway.

"So, Rose, tell me all about your life in New York."

*****

John paid the taxi driver and climbed out. It had taken him quite some time to actually find a taxi. Then, the road they traveled on had been blocked off, so they had to find an alternate route. Basically, it had taken him twice the time to get there that it should have.

The house loomed over him like a shadow in the dark. It looked so uninviting. He walked up the driveway and up to the door. He was going to knock, but then decided he would just walk in and go straight to his room. He saw the car parked outside, and he figured that Molly and Rose had arrived a while ago. He didn’t want Rose to know that he was there...not just yet.

He walked in the door quietly, making as little noise as possible. He walked up the ornate staircase, his bag in hand. He walked down the hallway, and placed his hand on the doorknob to his old bedroom. But something stopped him from opening the door; he heard something. It was...crying.

Inside John Calvert’s old bedroom, Rose could be found sobbing into his pillow. She had ventured in there after she had laid Hope down for her nap in her old bedroom. Rose had only been in John’s bedroom on a couple of occasions, but it still held memories of him.

She had run her fingers over the dresser top, over the linens, and finally collapsed on the bed sobbing. She could smell the scent of his hair still on the pillow. It had been so long since she had last held him in her arms.

John heard a voice from inside his door. "Oh, John...I’m sorry. I’m so sorry..." It was Rose’s voice.

"Now is as good as time as any," he whispered to himself. John knocked on the door softly.

He heard Rose sniffle, and her voice cracked as she said, "Come in."

John’s heart raced as he turned the doorknob. This was crazy. Simply absurd. He opened the door and saw Rose laying on his bed, her back facing him. Her curly red hair was longer than when he left, and flowing freely down her back.

Rose began to turn onto her other side, and John inhaled shakily. When Rose finally saw through her tears, and realized who was standing before her, she erupted in tears and sobs that shook her body.

John quickly rushed over to Rose and sat on the bed next to her. She sat up and threw her arms around him, sobbing even harder. John, too, began to cry willingly. He pulled her closer to him, never wanting to let her go.

Both their sobs suddenly ceased, and Rose pulled away from John. She looked him in the eyes and didn’t know whether to be happy, sad, angry, or what. There were just too many emotions involved.

No words were spoken. There was either too much to say, or not enough to say. It was too hard to tell the difference.

After some thought, John finally broke the silence with the only thing he could thing of. "I’m sorry." He looked down at his hands. He saw Rose’s hands come into view as she took his hands in hers. "I’m so sorry, Rose. I didn’t mean for it to end up the way it did. I really didn’t." John started crying again, this time feeling self-conscious. He covered his eyes with his hands, not wanting Rose to see him that way.

"Shh," she soothed him. She placed his head on her shoulder, and he wrapped his arms around her again. "It’s all right," she whispered in his ear. "We’re here. Right here, right now. There is nothing to speak of in the past. All right?"

"All right." His voice was deeper than usual because of his sobbing. Rose took in a shaky breath, and closed her eyes. She stroked John’s hair and kissed the back of his head.

John thought for a moment, not really sure what to say. "Do you want to go for a walk, maybe go for a late lunch...talk?"

Rose nodded her head. "I’d like that." John stood and held out his hand for Rose to follow. Rose stood, and John realized how beautiful she looked. She wore a dark green dress that afternoon. She had lost a little bit of weight, and her figure looked more slender than ever before. She was still self-conscious about the many curves her figure possessed, but to the gentleman’s eye, it made her look extremely sexy.

"God, you’re beautiful," John whispered. Rose looked up at him and smiled weakly.

Rose grabbed her handbag from inside her suitcase. Then, they both descended the staircase, arms linked.

Chapter Four
Stories