AN OCEAN OF EMOTION
Chapter Two
Pittsburgh
Cal
"Excuse me, sir."
I looked up from my newspaper to
see one of my many nameless servants standing in the doorway. I had too many of
them to even bother with their names. "What do you want?"
"Breakfast is ready, and
Mrs. DeWitt Bukater hasn’t come down for breakfast yet. I sent Angela up to
check on her earlier and she didn’t answer the door. Would you like for me to
try to wake her up, or would you like to?"
I shook my head at Ruth’s
stupidity. She was still in a deep state of shock and mourning after Rose’s
private memorial service. I paid for it when we got to Philadelphia. I figured
it might give Ruth some closure, but she was worse now than she was at the
memorial service.
"I’ll do it. Thank
you." I watched as she curtsied and quickly left the room. After staring
out the window for a brief moment, I put my paper on the table next to the
leather chair I was relaxing in. I took one last sip of my juice before I
grudgingly made it up the stairs to wake my most unfortunate houseguest. I beat
on Ruth’s door as I waited for her response. "Ruth? Wake up. It’s time for
breakfast." I knocked again. No answer. "Ruth?" I jiggled the
door handle and it easily opened. She hadn’t locked it. After opening the door
and peering around it, I saw her, still sitting in the leather chair facing the
window that she retired to last night after dinner with a few business
acquaintances and their wives. "Did you not get into bed at all last
night?"
"I find that I am unable to
sleep. The stress of it all just overwhelms me. What is one to do?"
I walked over to her. She was
dressed in the same dress she had on at last night’s dinner. "I’ll summon
one of the servants in here to get you ready. Honestly, Ruth. You really must
snap out of this all. It’s been six months."
Ruth’s icy gaze shifted up
towards me. "Six months ago, I lost my daughter. My only daughter. You can
go out and find another fiancée. I can’t just go out and find another
daughter."
"And your point is what, exactly?"
Ruth stood up in a furious
manner. She could have killed me right then if her eyes had swords in them. She
pointed her finger at me.
"You will find another
fiancée to carry on the Hockley name. That fiancée should be my daughter. But
for whatever reason, that Dawson boy killed her. He’s going to have to live
with that for the rest of his life, as I am going to have to live with it as
well. Had she just gotten in that boat with Molly and me, everything would have
been all right. That Metcalfe girl that Rose befriended survived, didn’t she?
So, tell me, why didn’t my Rose?"
"Fate, Ruth. Fate. Rose
wasn’t meant to survive. Just like the other fifteen hundred souls on board.
They weren’t meant to survive, either. We all have a predetermined fate that we
are given at birth. Rose’s was to die young."
Ruth’s icy look quickly melted
into an angry one. "What do you mean, fate? My daughter’s fate was to
freeze to death in the middle of the North Atlantic? My daughter’s fate was
that her body was never to be found? My daughter’s fate was that she was going
to be killed that night? My daughter’s fate was that she was supposed to marry
you and bear your children. And here you are, six months later, acting as if
she never existed and I’m just a guest in your home."
I turned to exit the room.
"You are a guest in my home, and she was going to bear my children.
However, she’d still be here if she would have just stayed with me. She could
have had the life that you wanted for her, the wealth, the riches, the lifestyle,
and the society functions that you crave so much. But that all depended on her
actions. Had she just stayed with me instead of being a whore with that filth
Dawson, she would have lived. I got in a lifeboat, remember? She didn’t."
I shut the door and walked down
the hallway before Ruth could finish her sentence. I had had it up to my ears
with that woman. I was looking forward to the day she’d leave, but I did tell
her that she could stay with me as long as possible.
Ruth
I had to sit back down. Every
time Cal entered the room, my energy drained, I felt the room spinning, and a
wave of nausea swept over me after he left the room. I put my hand to my
forehead to cry yet one more time, only the tears wouldn’t come. I had cried
myself out. My heart still ached for my daughter and the life she would have
had with Cal. The parties, the society, the money, the status, and everything
else, she gave up for a night of lust with that boy. That Dawson boy took my
daughter away from me and from Cal.
I stood up when the servant came
into the room. She chitchatted with me about the weather, the upcoming
holidays, and the New Year’s holiday. "With the New Year comes a new
start. After everything that happened, we all need one."
I nodded weakly at her statement.
"Yes. I suppose we all do."
She finished dressing me and left
me alone in my room. I walked over to my bureau drawer and pulled out a few
newspaper clippings I was saving. One was a clipping about the sinking of the
Titanic, one was about the inquests, and one was about my daughter’s funeral.
Cal evidently had a reporter covering the memorial service. I thought it was
tacky at first, but now I was grateful to have a memento of my daughter’s
service. I was in such a state of shock that I had forgotten or blocked out most
of what went on. I sat down on the edge of the bed and held the article between
my fingers. Rose’s picture was at the top of the article, with another one of
Rose and Cal towards the middle. I began to read the headline, and the familiar
feelings of grief and sadness washed over me.
Pittsburgh Steel Tycoon Nathan
Hockley’s Future Daughter-in-Law Laid to Rest Earlier Today.
I didn’t think I could go on
reading, but I did.
In a shocking twist of fate,
after Caledon Hockley arrived in New York City following the sinking of the
Titanic, Nathan Hockley and his son were forced to bury the younger Hockley’s
fiancée earlier today in a private ceremony held at an undisclosed location.
Rose DeWitt Bukater died as a result of the now infamous Titanic disaster at
the tender age of seventeen. She did not make it into a lifeboat, but instead
chose to spend her last minutes on earth helping others. According to witness
testimony given under strict confidentiality to the newspaper, she was last
seen guiding an elderly couple into a lifeboat after helping many immigrants
from third class as well. Rose even gave up her lifebelt to a young woman who
stated that she could not swim. Their engagement was made public in England
over the winter months. The Hockley-DeWitt Bukater party was on their way from
England to New York City, and then on to Philadelphia, Pennsylvania for the
engagement party to be held shortly after the scheduled arrival of the Grandest
Ship in the World and her maiden voyage. Her voyage was cut short after hitting
an iceberg in the early hours of April fifteenth. Hockley managed to survive
the sinking, as did Rose’s mother, Ruth DeWitt Bukater, but young Rose’s life
was tragically among the nearly fifteen hundred lives lost. Flowers from all
across the United States were used in a lavish memorial service to celebrate
the life and legacy that Rose will leave behind. Caledon spoke briefly, but the
grief of losing his fiancée was too much for him to speak longer than he did.
The elder Hockley was quoted as saying, "We come together on this sunny
day to not only say good-bye to a dear girl and my future daughter-in-law, but
also to celebrate the life and legacy she leaves behind. It is a tragic day
indeed, and my thoughts and prayers go out to not only Mrs. DeWitt Bukater and
my son, but to everyone whose lives were touched by tragedy or joyfulness after
the sinking." Rose’s body was never found.
I put the clipping back on the
bed as I reached into my drawer one more time for a handkerchief to dab the
corners of my eyes. Just when I thought my tears were dried up, they surprised
me again by appearing. I couldn’t believe that Cal spun Rose’s final moments
into a light that made him come out the winner. It just made me physically ill
that he would even conceive of doing this to Rose, to her memory, and to me.
"The Hockley family always
gets what they want. Too bad he didn’t want my daughter badly enough," I
muttered under my breath. I put the clippings back in the drawer, and after
checking my reflection in the mirror one more time, I headed downstairs to
breakfast.
I managed to sit through
breakfast with Nathan and Cal talking mostly business. I excused myself after
breakfast to take a short walk around the block. I wasn’t gone very far from
the house when a man selling Titanic memorabilia on the side of the road caught
my eye. I hurriedly walked across the street to see what he had.
"Good day, ma’am. How may I
help you?" He had a thick English accent.
I scanned over what he had.
"Just looking, if you don’t mind. My daughter perished during the ship’s
sinking. As morbid as it may seem, I have nothing to remember her by."
The man took off his cap and
stood up from behind his cart. "Ma’am…I am so sorry for your loss. What
was her name?"
I swallowed a lump in my throat.
"Rose. Rose DeWitt Bukater. She was to marry Caledon Hockley when we
docked in New York. We were headed to Philadelphia for the engagement party
when the ship sank and she was taken from me."
The man nodded. "Your daughter
was the future Mrs. Hockley?" I nodded. He continued. "Anything on
the table, please take it. No charge."
I stepped back as I looked at
him. Cal’s legacy superceded him wherever he went. "Thank you, kind sir. I
appreciate what you’re doing." I picked up a miniature replica of the
ship, then decided to put it back down. I came across a selection of newspaper
clippings about the sinking that were on the table. One was a front page
article from the New York Times and another one was from a different paper in
New York, but it had photos of the survivors after the sinking. I scanned the
photo. "I know this girl." I pointed to the Metcalfe girl. "She
was my daughter’s friend on board the Titanic." I read the caption below
it. "Seems this was taken at the inquests." I started to put the
article back on the man’s table when I saw the background of the photo.
"No!" I stared harder. There was my daughter. "No, she’s
dead." My heart began to race. "It can’t be her!"
"Ma’am, are you all
right?"
I pointed to the photo. "No,
I’m not. She looks just like my daughter." I stared harder at the lady
behind the Metcalfe girl. "It is her." I began to feel faint. Then
everything went black.
Cal
"Ruth!" I lightly
tapped her shoulder. "Ruth! Wake up!"
She started to stir in her bed.
"What?"
"Wake up. You fainted
outside. One of the policemen had to bring you back home. Quite embarrassing,
really. What on earth were you doing?"
She bolted straight up in bed.
"The man. The newspaper. Where is it?"
I turned around and found an
article on her bureau. I held it up. "This?"
Ruth nodded. "Bring it to
me." I handed the paper to her. She pointed to a photo. "Look."
"It’s the Metcalfe girl. So
what?"
Ruth pointed again. "No,
look behind her. Who is that?"
"Some girl. Why?"
Ruth shook her head. "No,
that’s Rose. See?"
I squinted at the grainy photo. I
couldn’t make it out. "Ruth, honey, Rose didn’t make it, remember? The
Titanic sank and she was killed. Do I need to get Dr. Stanford again?"
Ruth tried to get out of bed, and
one of the servants held her down. "That is my daughter, and I am going to
find her."
I stepped back away from the bed
and took one of the servants with me. "Summon Dr. Stanford at his earliest
convenience. It’s an emergency."
She curtsied. "Yes,
sir."
A little bit later, Dr. Stanford
showed up and gave Ruth something to help her sleep. He took me aside.
"What set her off this time?"
I pointed to the bed stand.
"Ruth found a newspaper article about the sinking and she believes her
daughter is in one of the photos. So sad, really, that the woman hasn’t come to
terms with her daughter’s death."
Dr. Stanford slowly nodded.
"Please let me know if she needs anything else. And I would highly suggest
that you take the articles about the Titanic and hide them from her until she’s
fully over this. Anymore grief, I’m afraid, will send her over the edge to
where there is no coming back."
I thanked Dr. Stanford, and he
walked out with one of the servants. I waited until Ruth was asleep and
collected the articles from her bed side table. I took the one she just found
out into the reading room, where the setting sun supplied ample light to read.
I scanned the article and my gaze focused on the photo of Metcalfe and her
husband. It can’t be. Rose is dead. I studied the photo of the girl
behind the Metcalfe girl. It can’t be. I watched the article float to
the floor as I was in disbelief at the thought of Rose actually being alive.