A FIRE IN THE WIND
Chapter Ten
Rose flung open the huge iron gates in front
of her house, and ran as quickly as she could to the door of the mansion. Rose
was extremely out of breath and her neatly tied back hair was starting to look
wild. Regaining her composure, Rose opened the door and realized she was too
late. Her mother was already in the main hall, in a rage.
"My God, Rose. Where have you
been?" Ruth asked, with a look of pure anger on her face.
Rose looked down to the ground, still panting
heavily, unsure of exactly what to say.
Ruth looked to Agatha, one of the household
servants. "If you'd excuse us, I want to talk to my daughter in the
parlor. I don't wish to be disturbed."
Agatha nodded at Ruth. "Yes,
ma'am," and then looked over at Rose, feeling great sympathy for her.
Rose followed her mother into the parlor, an
obedient schoolgirl. Ruth remained totally composed until the door was locked,
and both Rose and herself were seated.
"Well, aren't we the little
actress?" Ruth started off in her fierce tone of voice that Rose was so
used to. "Thought you could have a good time and skip the luncheon?"
Rose looked up at her mother, trying not to
show any sign of fear. "Mother--"
"Good God, Rose. I can't believe
you!" Ruth felt like slapping her daughter, but denied the urge. "You
run around doing anything you please and lie about it. Thank God Cal won't put
up with anything like that when you're married to him!"
Rose just stared at the ground, lost in her
own thoughts.
"Look up at me!" Ruth commanded
fiercely.
Rose obeyed, but was on the verge of a
nervous breakdown.
Ruth's sea blue eyes shimmered in the
sunlight. They said nothing. Ruth held in a few tears. Her mother had taught
her how to be a lady of society, why couldn't Ruth teach Rose? Ruth closed her
eyes, as if to ignore a handful of painful memories from her own childhood.
"What makes you think you can have total
control of your life?" Ruth started off. "What makes you think that?
Good God, Rose! I'm your mother. I don't care what your father had taught you
about respect, it was wrong! I can't believe you!"
Rose stared her mother right in the eye, not
afraid anymore. "What are you going to do, Mother? Send me to my room? I'm
not a child. I just wanted a little freedom for once, and I think I got a hell
of a lot more out of my afternoon today than going to some luncheon! I had fun
for a change."
Ruth stood up, completely losing her
composure. "Fun? Fun? Is that what it's all about, having a good time?
Well, is it really 'fun' that the money's gone? Is it--"
"Who cares about the money!" Rose
shot out bravely, crying now. "Is that all you care about? Well, I have to
admit I don't give a damn about it! Actually, I'd much rather be poor than
rich. Money does worse things to people than having none does. It takes away
people's souls! It makes them forget everything about everything until all they
care about is the money!"
Ruth had never been this angry with her
daughter in Rose's whole entire life. "Don't give me lessons in morality,
Rose. You know you won't win! Go to your room. I don't want to hear a word out
of you for the rest of the day! When you act like a child, you get treated like
one."
Rose silently left the parlor, showing no
emotion on the outside, but feeling everything inside.
When she got to her room, Rose flopped down
on her bed. She didn't cry. No. Rose didn't cry over her mother. She kept on
thinking about her father. Why had he died so young? Rose felt like she needed
him now more then ever. He had always understood her points and never had
gotten truly angry with her. He knew how to talk to Rose so she would listen,
and understand the other side.
Daddy? Rose thought. Oh God, I miss you so
much. Please, I'm sorry. I know you never wanted me to walk out on Mother, but
I don't know what else to do. We're two totally different people. You'd use to
assure me that she loved me, but I still don't think she does. How can Mother
be so cruel? She always knew I disliked Cal and his millions. She always knew!
How can she make someone suffer for the rest of their life, just so she's
financially succored? I don't understand!
Jack would take care of me, Daddy, really!
He's a thousand times better a man then Cal. I'm sure you know. Jack would never
hurt me, or tell me what to do like some slave. Jack cares about me, and I love
him more than anything in the world. How am I going to get through this?
Please! Help me.
For the rest of the afternoon, Rose read
books and magazines that her mother wouldn't approve of, and tried to devise a
plan to get out of her hell of a life. She couldn't think of anything practical
enough to work, and was very discouraged.
At about seven, there was a knock on the
door. Rose was extremely relieved to see Nancy, the cook, in the threshold with
some soup.
"Thought you might be hungry."
Rose smiled graciously. "Thank
you."
"Your mother's out dining with a couple
of her friends. How are you holding up?" asked Nancy, arranging Rose's
dinner on a table.
"I've been better," Rose replied,
frowning.
"That bad, eh?" Nancy laughed.
"Your mother's temper will cool down a bit by tomorrow. Just don't do
anything too stupid and you'll be just fine."
Rose smiled slyly after taking a few small
sips out of her soup. Her mother may be short tempered and intimidating, but
Rose would not let her stop her from seeing Jack tomorrow.