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.