A FATHER'S RESCUE
Chapter Twenty-Six

"I didn't do that, Rose. One of the maids did. I'm sure they only thought they were helping, and that they did it to be nice. You can ask them not to do it again. That is, if you will be staying a while longer."

"Yes, I think so. I'm sorry I accused you. I really thought..."

"I understand. It is the kind of thing I used to do. But whatever you might think, I'm a different person lately as well. It was very hard on me, thinking you had...I'm just so happy you came, and I was hoping we could come to understand each other better before you leave again. I am trying, Rose. Doesn't it seem like I am, to you?"

"For the most part, yes. Perhaps I'm just being too hard on you. I've spent so long being bothered by so much that you said and did around me. That really isn't fair."

"It was, Rose. In the past it most certainly was. Because I was a bad mother."

Michael decided that this would be a good time to interrupt. "Nonsense. No one at this table was a bad anything." He gestured to one of the maids, who'd been pretending to polish the silver while she eavesdropped.

"I'll have more of the melon, please." He turned back to Ruth. "You must compliment Myra on a superb meal. Where is she, by the way?"

Ruth looked puzzled, then her expression soured. "Didn't I tell you? I had to let her go along with the other help." She leaned forward to whisper, as was customary.

"I found these two girls through a low-class agency I was forced to contact. You don't know what I've endured since you left--"

Rose shot her mother a warning glance. Ruth caught herself and returned to her breakfast. The rest of the meal was eaten in silence.

After the dishes had been cleared, Michael puffed on an old pipe, which he'd discovered right where he'd left it in his study. Rose noticed her mother casting disapproving looks in his direction, but Ruth bit her tongue.

She doesn't want to upset us, Rose thought. She really wants us to stay.

Trouble was, Rose didn't want to stay.

Rose decided to join her father in his study to discuss this with him. Once he invited her in, Rose immediately told him how she felt.

"Rose, your mother is being very good to you. I understand why you would still feel a little uncomfortable here. But once we go out to California, it isn't as if we will be able to come back often to visit. If you really want to leave, I can't stop you. But I intend to stay. I owe your mother at least a few more days of visiting. And I will say that if you leave early, I think it will hurt your mother's feelings. I'll be ashamed of you if you do that to her."

"Daddy, I thought you would be on my side. You aren't being fair! She isn't doing as wonderfully as you want to give her credit for."

"She's trying, Rose. That is what I'm giving her credit for. How can she make any more progress if you just leave?"

"So I'm supposed to stay because you say I should, and because it might hurt her feelings if I leave? Doesn't it matter if I am unhappy?"

"Yes, Rose, of course it does. But you aren't a child anymore, and I would like to think that you can be adult enough to deal with things and stay here. Make your mother happy. It's only for a few more days. Please, Rose, I'm hoping you will make me proud of you right now."

Rose refused to answer immediately. Instead she turned and looked out the window into the yard below, then looked away again. The untended acreage with its overgrown weeds was too depressing to even think about.

She wanted to scream, "No! I don't want to stay in Philadelphia one more minute!" Instead she said softly, "I want you to be proud of me, Daddy."

Michael nodded. "Don't worry, Rosebud. I'm going to try to convince your mother that a little California sunshine could do her a world of good."

"You don't really believe she'll join us? Mother will never leave this place. And she intends never to let us go again either."

"Rose, I really think you're being unfair. Your mother is trying the best she can. I can certainly see she isn't the person that I left. Would you try a little harder to give her a chance? Please?"

Rose sighed. "All right, Daddy. She's just so...frustrating. And yet there were times I missed her very much. It still doesn't make sense to me."

"Well, if she comes with us, you two will have more time to talk. And if not, maybe you two can work something else out. I'm going to talk to her about coming with us. I'll be back as soon as I can."

He found Ruth in her favorite spot, the sunroom facing the east. It was a comfortable hideaway, where in the early years of their marriage they would watch the sunrise, and often took their breakfast. Later, it became the place Ruth would retreat after one of their many battles. He'd left the decorating of the room to her and, eventually, it became her private sanctuary.

He was surprised to find it in a state of disarray, dust accumulating on the end tables and the delicate china vase that had been in Ruth's family for generations. Ruth reclined on the sofa, a handkerchief folded in her lap, staring at the volumes on the bookshelves. Or at nothing.

He thought she hadn't noticed his entrance, until she spoke. "I don't allow the new maids in here. They don't take proper care."

"Ruth--" Michael began.

"She's changed, hasn't she?" Ruth went on. "She's not the same girl she was before she met that, that..."

"She's not a girl anymore," he said. "She's a woman. She can make her own decisions."

Ruth sighed and closed her eyes. "Please, if this is about that California nonsense--"

"Ruth, it isn't nonsense. It's important to her. We would really like you to come with us."

"Michael, you can't be serious! I've lived in this city all my life, and to just pick up and move somewhere so completely different...that would be foolish."

"Is it foolish that both Rose and I would like to see the three of us be a family again? And don't you want that, too?"

"Yes, of course, but I feel like I barely know either of you anymore. How could we possibly live together as a family again?"

He lowered himself onto the sofa beside her, taking her small hands in his. "I can't claim to see the future, Ruth. But would either of us have thought just three days ago that we'd all be eating a meal together, in this house?"

She had no argument for that. When it took her several moments to answer, Michael knew her mind had been changed.

His heart filled with joy, not for himself, but for Rose.

Michael left the parlor quickly, to break the good news to his daughter. When he entered her bedroom, Rose looked up anxiously.

"What did she say, Daddy?"

"She said yes," he began, breaking into a wide smile. "Not in so many words, but I understood what she meant. She's just glad to have us here, Rose, she doesn't want to lose touch with us again."

"I want to keep in touch with her too, and I'm glad she's agreed to go, but I'm still...surprised. She loves it here, she's hardly been away except..."

Her voice trailed off; she didn't need to finish the sentence. Ruth had taken the rare European holiday to try to encourage--or force--romance between Rose and Cal. She had not been in a traveling mood since well before her husband's disappearance.

The two of them began to prepare for their departure. Rose was anxious to escape the cloying atmosphere of the old house, even though it had cheered somewhat since Michael's return. She was also uncomfortable with the steady stream of the curious, friends of her parents who had to know how she and Michael had both managed to return from the grave at the same time.

So she packed all the necessities, making a conscious decision to leave behind most of her old outfits, which were unsuitable for heavy travel. Ruth had been appalled when she'd seen some of her new clothing, especially the trousers, but she'd wisely kept her mouth shut.

Rose was ready to depart after only one day, but she noticed her parents were sluggish, bickering over the slightest matter. It reminded her too much of when they'd all lived together before, and she was wary. But when she approached her father about it, he only said, "You know we have to settle our business affairs here, Rose. Be patient. The house won't be sold in a week."

Rose could only sigh at first. After a moment, she said, "I know, Daddy. I'm sorry. I suppose I'm just more anxious to leave than I thought. Does Mother seem very upset about selling the house?"

"Not as much as I expected she would be. I think she was very lonely, living here by herself."

Rose nodded quickly. "How long do you think it might take, then?"

"I can't say for certain. A month, or two. That's a rather...hopeful estimation, but this is a good house, people will be interested in it."

Rose and Michael talked a few more minutes, then were called down to dinner by one of the remaining maids. When father and daughter joined Ruth at the table, they both noticed that she looked tired, and commented on it.

"I'm just a little worn, that's all. From trying to make things move along faster. But, houses do not sell overnight. I know you are both anxious to go, I'm sorry it will take some time."

Rose knew this was addressed mostly to her, and so she spoke up.

"It's all right, Mother. There is plenty here to pass the time. I think I should get in touch with some people back in New York, too. They might start to wonder what's been going on."

Michael smiled to himself, knowing that the people Rose had spoken of actually included just one person.

About a month after her hasty departure, Rose returned by train to New York. She'd insisted upon making the trip alone, over her mother's objections. Ruth probably thought she'd never see her daughter again, and with good cause. But Michael had a doctor's appointment that day, and Rose was determined that Ruth never lay eyes on the filthy brownstone where she'd spent her time on her own.

The door was propped open to let in the warm breeze. Ever polite, Rose called out a hesitant, "Hello?" before proceeding upstairs. No one responded. She was beginning to think the place was deserted when she heard a familiar bark in the open doorway behind her.

"Hey, it's Rose!" Lincoln cried, letting go of Roosevelt's leash in his surprise. The mutt ran over to her and jumped up, leaving muddy paw prints on her skirts.

"Bad dog!" Lincoln scolded, but Rose shrugged it off.

"It's all right, really. I'm so happy to see both of you." And she meant it, too. Lincoln was so excited to see her alive and well, he rushed to gather the other tenants. They were all there, except Frances, who'd moved mysteriously some time ago, and Mrs. Wallace, who'd fallen behind in paying taxes on the property and had been forced to sell the building to another slumlord.

The last to stick his head out of his door was David, who been practicing and didn't hear the commotion right away. He stared at Rose in shock for several minutes before wordlessly accompanying her to the parlor.

"Surprised, aren't you?" Rose said quietly once they were alone. She felt a little silly stating the obvious, but seeing the look on his face she could not help herself.

"Yes. Rose, I thought you wouldn't be coming back. I'm very glad you have. What's brought you back?"

"I...I needed to ask you something." There was a long pause, as Rose debated whether to bring it up so soon, so directly.

After some time, David prodded her to continue. "What is it, Rose? It must be important, if you've come all this way. Please tell me."

Rose took a deep breath and plunged ahead. "I'm going to California with my parents, and I was wondering...I mean...I'd like you to come with us."

David drew away a bit, in surprise. "You do? We've never even discussed this, Rose. Where has this come from? I'm not saying no, it's just a complete surprise."

"I know. I wanted to ask you because we are friends, and I probably won't be back to this city for a long time, if ever. We could keep in touch with letters, I suppose, but that creates so much distance." Rose felt like she was floundering, babbling on. Yet, she felt that if she told David her real reason for asking, he would laugh at her. Therefore, she was very pleased when she looked up to find him nodding in understanding.

Thus she was caught by surprise when he said, "I'd love to take you up on your offer, Rose. But what about my life here? And your parents? I'm not certain they would approve. It wouldn't seem...appropriate."

Rose was crestfallen. She had risked a great deal by coming back here; not only her personal safety, but the possibility that her father would figure out exactly why she returned. Even though he'd had a chance to get to know what a warm, kindhearted person David was, Michael Bukater was still a product of his rigid upbringing. He and Ruth would never approve of them traveling all the way across the country together.

"I must get back to my composition," David apologized. "Perhaps you can stay and dine with me later?"

Rose shook her head, trying to hold back the tears. She couldn't comprehend why she was so unhappy. David was just a neighbor who'd befriended her when she was vulnerable, right? It wasn't as if they were in love.

After David had left, Rose began to cry openly. She wanted to leave this place before someone saw her, but going out of doors would be worse. Her upbringing asserted its own strange power. She'd always been taught not to be seen being overly emotional in public. So, she sat there on the couch until she had calmed down, then stood and went outside into the fresh air.

Even with David's refusal, Rose didn't want to leave so soon. She shortly turned around, went quietly back inside, and stood outside of the doors of the room where David was composing. Though Rose didn't know all that much about music, she could definitely tell that the piece he was working on was coming together. The music stopped and started as David tested out bits he had completed. Rose stood there listening longer than she had intended, and soon, she heard David rise, coming toward the door. She hurried away, praying he wouldn't see her. But she was too slow.

"Rose, you are still here. I thought you said you weren't staying."

"I wasn't, but I...I couldn't leave so soon. I don't know why, but here I am. Still. If you'd rather I go, I will."

"No!" His voice was harsher than he would have liked. "I'm glad you're still here. I know I upset you before, by refusing, and I'm sorry. I hope you understand why I can't go."

Rose surprised even herself by looking straight into his eyes and saying "No, I don't. My parents won't understand why I've invited a man along, but can't we just explain it? When I say there hasn't been anything...personal between us, my parents will know I'm being honest. They can always tell when I'm lying. They might not like you at first, but they will, eventually." Rose knew she was getting dangerously close to begging him to come, and she should be hating herself for it. But she didn't.

Besides, she thought wryly, at least David was gainfully employed. After Jack, Ruth would have to appreciate that.

"You're used to having things your way, aren't you, missy?" David smiled, but there was a sadness about his eyes. "Rose, we don't know one another very well. We're from entirely different backgrounds. Your parents would only resent me." He leaned forward and kissed her, lightly, on the lips. "You'll understand someday." Tears came, unbidden, to her eyes.

"Don't tell me that! I don't understand! I don't want to lose anyone else." Before David could stop her, Rose fled the room, nearly tripped and fell down the stairs in her hurry to escape the building, and ran nearly the entire way to the nearest el train station, which would carry her to Pennsylvania Station.

She retreated to her bedroom immediately upon her arrival home, and finally, the tears were able to flow with abandon. It was some time before one of the maids came knocking, timidly. "Miss? Supper is being served. Your mother and father want to see you right away."

Wondering glumly what she'd done now, Rose dragged herself to the dining room, without making any effort to clean up first. Ruth didn't notice, for once. "Rose," she began hesitantly, "your father and I have done a lot of arguing these past few weeks, and we realized that the reason that we weren't able to settle all of our affairs is that we...aren't ready to leave."

So that was why the servants hadn't been given notice, or the house hadn't yet been placed on the market, or not a single piece of furniture or china had been put up for auction, as her mother had grudgingly agreed to do. "After all, they're just things," Rose had attempted to persuade her. Apparently, they meant more to her parents than flesh and blood. Rose stood angrily.

"I suppose I'll be traveling alone, then, as no one wants to come with me."

Michael looked pained. "Rosebud, I'm sorry. But this has been our home since we were first married. We built a life together here. Our friends and relatives are here. Please try to understand. Perhaps you'll want to stay, now that we're a family again."

"I'd rather go back and live in that vermin-infested apartment house in New York," Rose retorted, and left the room. Once again she retreated to her private sanctuary, locking the door to prevent any further intrusion, and began packing.

While Rose packed, dinner passed without her. She didn't notice. After all the day's turmoil, she had no appetite. She had finished packing by eight o'clock, and despite the early hour, decided to turn in.

She woke before the sun was up, and waited only a short time before venturing downstairs to leave, supposing that no one would be up yet. She made as little noise as possible as she headed for the door.

"Leaving so early?" Rose jumped, and nearly had to stifle a scream.

"Daddy, you frightened me," she said, turning around. "I didn't think you would be up so early."

"Of course not, or you wouldn't be trying to sneak out, would you?" There was a hardness to his voice that Rose had seldom heard.

"You're right," she admitted quietly. "I'm sorry, but after what you said yesterday, I thought it might be better if I left without..."

"Without saying good-bye!" His voice was rising, along with his anger. "How do you think that would have made us feel, Rose? After I haven't seen you for more than a year, and your mother has spent an awful amount of time thinking you were dead? You were just going to walk out of here, without doing something that's a matter of common decency, all because I said something that hurt your feelings and made you pout like a little girl?"

Rose, embarrassed, said nary a word. Her father reached forward and lightly caressed her chin. "Did David say no, too, love?" Rose's head jerked up sharply.

"How did you--?"

"How did I know? You're my daughter, Rose." Michael laughed. "And you wear your heart on your sleeve. But don't worry," he added at her horrified expression, "I won't breathe a word of this conversation to your mother." He helped her return the heavy bags to her room, grunting that she'd never make it all the way to California weighted down as she was, then invited her to have a dish of ice cream with him.

Chapter Twenty-Seven
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