A FATHER'S RESCUE
Chapter Twenty-Seven

"Oh, Daddy, is that a good idea? Everyone has gone to bed..."

"Then it's the perfect time for us to have a talk," Michael interrupted her. He insisted on searching for the cook's homemade strawberry ice cream in the icebox, and pulled two bowls from the cabinets. They each helped themselves to heaping spoonfuls and sat down at the kitchen table to savor the treat. "You'll miss this," Michael teased her.

"You actually think I'm still going?" Rose was skeptical. "You and Mother don't even think I can choose my own clothing."

"Of course you're going," her father replied. "You've always been headstrong and determined to have your way. Ruth and I had quite the discussions about how to rein in that hardheaded streak, but it wasn't to be. You need to be free, to live your life as you choose. You can't accomplish that here."

"I know I can't. But part of me wants to go and part of me doesn't. I think I will like it out there, but part of me is afraid, too."

"Of course you are. You were sheltered, living in this house so many years. Even if you hadn't grown up that way, it's a little frightening for everyone when they first strike out on their own. Just because you won't be living here anymore doesn't mean we won't be here if you need us."

Rose smiled gently. "I know that, Daddy." Rose felt tears welling in her eyes, and quickly changed the subject. "What do you think Mother will say when she wakes up and finds I've left?"

Michael sighed. "I suppose she'll just be shocked at first, but later she'll cry, I think. She'll be all right, after a while. She won't stop missing you, of course. But I think she's accepted the fact that you need to move on."

Rose shrugged. "I hope so, because she won't change my mind."

"Oh, I'm sure she knows that. You take after her, with your stubborn streak, you know."

Rose only nodded, letting a small laugh escape her. Then her expression turned somber again as she set her empty bowl down on the counter.

"I think I'd best be going, now." She half looked up, obviously afraid of looking him directly in the eye.

Michael stood and leaned over her, cupping her face in his hands for a long moment, staring at her as if he wanted to relish the image of her face. It looked as though he might cry. And then she threw her arms around him with a small sob.

"Daddy."

He held on to her, like she was a little girl again. And then he let go. Rose stood back, wiped her eyes, and braved a smile. "I have to get my bags." She left the kitchen and had one foot on the stairs when there was an almost imperceptible knock at the front door. She wouldn't have heard it if she were still in the kitchen. Her father came into the foyer and looked in the direction of the main entryway, puzzled.

"Did I just hear a knock at the door at this hour?"

Rose's chest tightened. No, she thought wildly, it can't be. But who else would come calling at this hour? "It's Cal, Daddy," she whimpered. "Oh, please, please don't let him in." With that she turned and fled upstairs.

She didn't hear the door knocker sound again, a bit louder, and didn't wait for the response to Michael's irritated, "Who's there?"

"It's David. I know it's very early, but may I please come in?" Michael was more than a bit surprised as he opened the door to admit the younger man.

"Hello, David. I'm really very surprised to see you. Rose was just about to leave."

"I did get here in time! Thank goodness. I didn't think I'd make it. Where...where is she?"

"Upstairs. She had to go get her bags. Her room is the one at the end of the hall, if you'd like to go up."

Michael knew it might upset Rose that he had told David to go up to her, but Michael felt he deserved one more chance to talk to Rose. She was traveling clear across the country, after all.

Upstairs, David was knocking almost too softly to be heard. At last, she opened the door, and gasped. "David! How...what are you doing here?"

This wasn't as pleased a reaction as David had hoped for, but he plunged ahead, stepping into the room as she moved out of the doorway.

"I just needed to talk to you once more. I know I hurt you by refusing to go on this trip with you. I'd love to go, but I wouldn't be sure to find a job again, with my limited skills. The one I have leaves a lot to be desired, but at least I'm working. I sound terribly...settled...for such a young man, don't I?"

"No," Rose answered bluntly, looking him directly in the eyes. “You sound afraid. Afraid to change, to try anything new. You might think I'm not frightened, but I am. Still, I'm going. I owe that to myself. I think you owe yourself more than the life you have, too. That's why I asked you to come with me!"

He turned away from her, slowly, and approached the window. For several seconds, he didn't speak. When he did, he kept his back to her.

"Rose, there is nothing more I want right now than to get on that train with you."

"Then why don't you?"

"Rose, there's something I should tell you, before this goes any further. I knew from the start that we had nothing in common, that you were from a good family and myself..."

This litany was beginning to sound all too familiar. Memories of standing face to face with another man, in a gymnasium, having almost the same conversation not so long ago, flooded Rose's mind, and she shut her eyes. Next he would tell her she was a spoiled brat, but he didn't want to see the fire in her die. "Out with it already!" she snapped.

David finally looked her in the eye. "I'm Jewish, Rose. My parents...well, they don't approve of my career choice, as you can probably tell, since I am living in that hovel, and I'm sure your parents...Rose, what is it?"

Rose had been trying to hold in the laughter, holding it in until she nearly turned red, but then it bubbled up in her throat and spilled out in a gush--a wild, silly release. And then she grabbed David by the shoulders and kissed him once again, this time making it last. After a moment, they separated.

"David," Rose began quietly, "do you really think it matters that much to me what religion you are? You could have told me that before."

"Rose, it isn't that simple. It's not your acceptance I doubted. My parents are orthodox. They know I already don't follow all the rules like they do, and they're ashamed of my job. Now, if they found out I'm in love with someone who is a non-Jew, they'll never accept you. They may even despise you. And...what will your parents say, about me?"

Rose took a deep breath, considering her words carefully. "We are Christian, or at least I was raised that way. Mother goes, sometimes, because it's expected. My father doesn't go to church anymore, I suppose. He never did like it. The real point isn't what religion my family is. All my parents want is for me to be happy, and if it's you I want to be with, they will accept you, David. Believe me."

"I do...but Rose, I don't know if I can choose between you and my family, if we should ever get that serious and they don't approve of you. That doesn't mean I would stop loving you, but I'm their only child, I have a lot to live up to, and I think that...that when my parents find out about you, they will do everything in their power to get you out of my life, and keep you out. I'm not a fool. I know you care about me. I wouldn't want to see you get hurt like that."

"I appreciate your concern, David. But I'm allowed a say in this too, aren't I? I say, whatever happens with your parents, if anything, can be dealt with when it happens. I'd like to at least have a chance to see if our relationship will grow...wouldn't you?"

David smiled, and quickly kissed her again. "Yes. I was worrying too much. Let's just take it one step at a time."

Rose looked up hopefully. "Does that mean you'll come with me? Really?"

He grinned. "Only if you can put up with a lower East Side Jew who writes music for a living."

"Sounds heavenly," Rose murmured, bringing her lips to his again. Then she thought of something, and pulled back abruptly. "David, whatever will you do with your piano? You can't bring it with you!"

He grinned again, sheepishly. "I sold it, along with most of my other belongings. I knew I wouldn't be returning to New York again for a long time." Rose stared at him, aghast.

"But, David, you didn't have to--"

"I did," he insisted. "I can buy another piano, Rose. Nothing meant more to me than catching that train with you."

"Rose?" came a disapproving voice from the doorway. "Who is this, and what is he doing in your bedroom?"

Rose sighed and turned around. "This is David, Mother. I told you about him. He's changed his mind and decided to come with me. If we don't leave soon we'll miss the train. I'm sorry if I woke you."

Rose said all of this quickly, not giving her mother time to protest further. David apologized as well, but could clearly see the woman was still miffed.

"Really, you could have had your conversation downstairs, Rose. How rude." Rose only looked away, rolling her eyes. She knew it wasn't David her mother disapproved of. As usual, she was most concerned about appearances. Having gotten no reaction from Rose, Ruth walked off, still muttering. David glanced at Rose, his eyebrows raised.

"Don't worry, she's always like that." David was obviously amused, and Rose smiled. "Now, we really do have to go, or we'll be too late." David nodded and followed Rose downstairs. Michael was waiting patiently by the door, knowing Rose would want to say one more quick good-bye.

"Rose?" They turned to see Ruth flying downstairs after them, barefoot and in her dressing gown. Her face wore a look of distress. "Rose, did I hear you say you had to catch a train tonight? I thought--well, you should at least wait a few days. There's some things you'll need for such a long journey..."

"Ruth--" Michael warned softly. But his wife prattled on, unable to let Rose walk through the door and out of her life again. "What is this business of leaving in the middle of the night? I won't hear of it! Y-you have to get a good night's rest and I'll have the cook prepare you a healthy breakfast in the morning. The meals they'll serve on the train will be simply dreadful--"

"Mother!" Rose cut her off. "We're going. Now." She lifted a travel case as she spoke. "I've seen the schedule. We have to leave soon if we're to make the last train tonight." She met Ruth's eyes defiantly, waiting for any more sign of argument, but the older woman nodded slowly, and looked away. She appeared exhausted. Once again, Rose felt a twinge of pity, and then realized that Ruth would not be alone. She turned and reached for her father, whispering to him as they embraced, "Take care of her, Daddy."

"I will, Rosebud," he promised.

Rose then hugged her mother, both of them fighting to hold back tears. "I'll send for you," she said. "When you come to see me, I promise you'll be so proud." David had shook hands with Michael and was carrying pieces of Rose's luggage down the walk to the taxi he'd left waiting outside, in case she'd turned him away. Rose lingered, having one last thing to say to Ruth before walking out the door. "Don't take him for granted, Mother. He loves you dearly." And she was gone.

As it turned out, Rose and David barely made it to the platform in time. Once they were on board and had left the station, they both dropped off to sleep, not to wake up again for several hours, having no idea where they were. David stretched and smiled at Rose as she opened her eyes.

"Good morning. Are you hungry? I can go see if they have something ready yet. It should be late enough."

"I'm hardly awake yet, but thank you. Maybe later. If you're hungry, you should get something, though."

"I will. I didn't have dinner before I made the trip to your house. I knew I had to hurry."

Now it was Rose's turn to smile. "I'm so happy you came. It makes me less nervous, having someone with me. Not having second thoughts, are you?"

"No. We have jumped into this all of a sudden, but I think it's a good idea. My parents will think the postmark on my next letter is a joke.” He chuckled bitterly, then turned to look out the window, watching the scenery.

Rose was quiet a few moments, then asked, "David...do you really think your parents will dislike me that much?"

"I don't think they'll dislike you. Who could, once they've met you?" David smiled, but he looked pained. "As for acceptance, I think that will take a long time." He stood and stretched. "Come now, let's eat. We have a long boring trip ahead of us."

"Boring?" she asked, feigning indignance, and pinched his arm, eliciting a fake cry of pain from David. "I may be many things, but dull is not one of them. You're in for a real adventure, Mr.--" Then she frowned. "I just realized something. I don't know your last name!" She giggled, forcing a grin from David. "I think I should at least know your surname if we should be living in sin together, don't you think? We may even have to pretend to be married, God forbid." She giggled again, giddy with happiness.

David obliged her. "It's Calvert."

"Calvert? That doesn't sound like--"

"A Jewish name," he finished for her. "It's not my given name. But some tenement owners won't lease to Jews, and some employers won't hire us. I took on the name of my late piano instructor, who was very much a father figure to me. I can't help feeling that I've turned my back on my family, and my heritage," he added.

"No." Rose shook her head. "If they were to see the man I see before me right now, your family would feel nothing but pride. Just wait until they hear you play." Without saying another word, she pulled David to her, wrapping him in a warm and passionate embrace, ignoring the scandalized gasps of a few fellow passengers also on their way to the dining car. For a minute at least, there was no one else on the train but the two of them.

Chapter Twenty-Eight
Stories