A FIRE IN THE WIND
Chapter Nineteen
"Miss Bukater seems to be recovering
just fine," Dr. Kaplan said Tuesday morning. "She should stay in bed
for another twenty-four hours, and then she will have fully recovered."
Ruth nodded, grateful that her daughter had
recovered well before the day of the wedding. "Rose, I'll ask Nancy to
make you something for breakfast. You look famished."
Ruth and Dr. Kaplan left Rose alone in her
room. The last thing Rose wanted to spend her day doing was sleeping. She had
slept for nearly four days, so she took out a book and read for a couple of
hours.
It was hard. Rose kept thinking about the odd
dreams that she had. They were unlike any other dreams she had had in her life.
Rose didn't forget a single detail of them. No. They were not the kind of
dreams that you forget everything about as soon as you wake up. Rose tapped her
fingers on her nightstand in frustration. They were all linked together. They
all showed how miserable her life was. Rose didn't understand. Was there
something she didn't know? Were they supposed to tell her she should run away
with Jack? Rose's thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door.
"Rose?"
Rose smiled at the sound of a familiar voice.
"Ali! Come in!"
Ali swung open the door to see the sickly
vision of her best friend reading a book on her bed. "Rose!" Ali
started off, not hesitating to make herself comfortable. "I'm so glad to
see you. You have no idea how scared I was after your faint. How are you
feeling?"
"I've been better, thanks," Rose
replied, closing her book.
"You haven't read a word of that book,
have you?" asked Ali, knowingly.
Rose giggled softly, not comprehending how
her friend could see through her so easily. "No, actually. I haven't. I
have something on my mind. It's confusing me."
"Oh! I get that all the time!" Ali
laughed. "When you're so concerned about something that you become
obsessed with it, you can't think about anything else!"
"Something like that."
"How have you been recovering since
Saturday? You must have been quite ill. I think that was the first time I have
ever seen someone faint!" Ali replied.
"That bad, huh?" Rose asked.
"It was so strange," Ali replied in
an intrigued voice. "It was as if you fainted in shock of receiving his
letter!"
Rose looked up at her friend, perplexed.
"What letter?"
"You know, the letter from Jack that I
gave to you at the lawn party. You put it in your purse, I think," Allison
said, looking across the room at Rose's vanity where her purse sat.
Rose nodded slightly. "I lost my memory
for about five minutes before I fainted. I don't remember going for a walk with
you, and I don't remember receiving a letter from Jack. May--may I see
it?"
Allison rushed across the room and dug deep
into Rose's purse. "How odd. You've spent four days not knowing about the
letter he wrote you?"
When Allison finally found the letter, she
tossed it to Rose. "I'd better be leaving."
"Ali?"
Allison turned around at the sound of her
friend's voice.
"Thank you," Rose said softly.
"Anytime, really!" Allison replied.
"I just hope I did as much as I could to stop you from marrying him.
Jack's a good man. He does deserve you! Bye, Rose."
Rose nodded as Allison closed the door. It
seemed the odds were more on her side then they were ever before. She didn't
want to marry Cal, Allison didn't want her to, and even her father didn't want
her to marry him. Rose didn't hesitate to open Jack's note. It had to be a
sign. All of the flashbacks she was having, her dead father talking to her, and
now this. It was all a sign. Rose couldn't marry Cal. Not after all that had
happened. Rose began to read Jack's letter. It read:
Rose--
You say the wedding's next Sunday. That
doesn't give us much time. What I don't understand is why don't you just run
away at any time. I guess it's too late for that, but I can promise you one
thing. You are not going to marry Cal. Forget it. Don't think you can give in
so easy. You have to fight to keep the flame alive. Please Rose, use your
willpower. If you do, maybe we will end up drinking cheap beer in Santa Monica.
If you don't, you can count on being Hockley's slave for the rest of your life.
Break the rules. Visit me, and we will think of a brilliant plan to get you
away from your life. I'm already thinking of some. Rose, do whatever it takes
to come see me. I love you.
--Jack
Rose closed the note and sighed. Jack was
right. She had to go see him. She had to. Time was running out quickly.
At that very moment, Ruth walked in. Rose
quickly threw the note and the envelope under her pillow in a panic.
"Dear, are you feeling any better?"
Ruth asked her daughter, kindly.
"Well enough to get out of bed,"
Rose remarked sharply.
Ruth stood at the edge of her daughter's bed.
"The doctor doesn't want you out of bed until tomorrow. How is
Allison?"
"She's fine," Rose replied,
nodding, not sure where the conversation was leading.
There was an uneasy pause for a few seconds,
and Rose was certain something was wrong.
"What is it?" Rose asked, a little
rude.
Ruth sighed, and paused for a few more
seconds. "Rose, you're a very intelligent girl. I know that. It's your
lack of good judgment that I'm concerned about. You will be married next week,
and there are still a lot of things you don't understand about being a good
wife."
Rose sighed, and prepared herself for another
lecture. Would they ever stop?
Ruth continued. "I can't properly put
into words how much disrespect you give to Cal. You treat him as if he were a
schoolboy, not your husband. You run around as wild as you want to be, and you
never listening to what anyone has to say about it."
Ruth continued for what seemed like an
eternity to Rose. Ruth made sure to cover every single detail of the proper way
Rose should treat Cal. It felt like finishing school all over again.
Ruth tried her best to nail everything into
her daughter's brain before it was too late. She wasn't about to let an
incident like Jack Dawson occur again. The chances were too risky. Rose was a
wildflower, and made her own decisions much too often.
Mainly, Ruth was afraid. She was afraid of
losing the engagement to Caledon Hockley, and becoming poor. Poor. The word
rang through Ruth's head much too often for her liking. It meant being humiliated
in front of all Philadelphia society. It meant having to work. To have to work?
Ruth put it all in the back of her head. No. Her daughter's wedding was on
Sunday. Everything was going to be perfect. Everything would be as it was
planned to be.