A LADY NAMED ROSE
Chapter Thirty-Six
Vera placed a feathered hat atop her stylish French
twist and checked her appearance one last time in her bureau mirror.
"You're really going to miss out on a dandy party, Rose," she
scolded.
"I won't miss anything, not with you to
give me all the details," Rose replied. Vera's hat began to tilt and Rose
reached out instinctively to adjust it. Vera gently pushed her hands away.
"No, no, I want it to stay like this. I rather like the way it
looks."
She draped a wrap about her shoulders and
gave Rose a pleading look. "Are you sure you won't come with us? This is
the last big event of the year except for Commencement. I won't see you all
summer. You can see Sebastian anytime."
Rose knew that the real cause of Vera's
distress was the fact that Charlotte wouldn't be along for the party. The
Junior-Senior Boat Ride--with the juniors throwing the seniors a festive gala
aboard the Mary Powell--was one of the most anticipated events of the school
year. The ferryboat would carry them all the way down the Hudson to New York.
Rose had told Victoria she was going as an excuse for the day off, but of
course she would never set foot on the Mary Powell.
"Where is he taking you today?"
Vera inquired when Rose didn't respond.
"We're going to see the Ziegfield
Follies," Rose said, brightening. "I've wanted to for months. And he
said he has some sort of surprise for me. I may finally get to see his
apartment."
"If he puts in an appearance," Vera
muttered, then was instantly apologetic. "I'm sorry, I just...think you
should be careful." She gave Rose a long, intense stare, as if she was
making an important decision. Nervous, Rose was about to break the tension by
complimenting the jaunty angle of her hat, when Vera suddenly opened a bureau
drawer and withdrew a small cardboard box delicately wrapped in tissue paper.
"What is it?" Rose asked as Vera
pressed the package into her hand. She lifted the lid and peeked inside,
catching a glimpse of a couple of square packets before Vera swooped in and
shut the box.
"They're condoms," she whispered.
"Don't let anyone but Sebastian see them!"
Rose frowned. "Condoms?"
"Shh! They're to--in case you--well, you
know." At Rose's quizzical stare, Vera blurted, "They're for
contraceptive purposes. And to keep you from getting diseases."
Rose, confused as to which diseases Vera was
referring, tried to return Vera's gift, but Vera refused it, saying,
"Charlotte didn't think things would go that far, either." She closed
Rose's hand over the box.
"But I don't know how--"
Vera smiled, that mischievous grin she often
wore. It took the edge off her abrasive personality. "They're for him to
wear, not you. He'll know what to do. But whatever you do, don't tell anyone
where you got them."
*****
They'd planned to meet at exactly noon under
the clock at Grand Central, but as the minutes ticked by and arrival after
departure was announced, Rose began to fear he wasn't coming at all. She
refused to remind herself that it wouldn't be the first time.
It seemed that everyone else was with
someone, and everyone else had some important destination to reach. Rose immersed
herself in studying the magnificent frescoes on the ceiling, completed in the
recent construction, but was all too aware that people--particularly men--had
begun to notice her, standing alone, anxious. Even the newsboy near the 42nd
St. entrance had begun eyeing her as he hawked his papers. Pretty soon some con
artist would approach, all solicitous, asking if he could be of any assistance,
and the next thing she knew, he'd be off with her handbag.
Finally Rose could stand the waiting no
longer and she rushed from the building, tears stinging her eyes. She nearly
collided with the perplexed newsboy, shook her head abruptly when he asked if
she wanted a copy of the Times, and ran, not stopping until she rounded
the corner of 42nd and Madison. There she hesitated, wondering if she was just
being silly. Sebastian was just a little late, that was all.
More like a lot late.
Unsure of whether to go back and wait or
catch the next train to Poughkeepsie, Rose opted not to return to Grand Central
at all. She found a quaint cafe with umbrellas decorating its outdoor tables.,
and ordered herself a cup of mint tea. The brew soothed her nerves and she
began to imagine herself as a lady with a purpose again. Pretending to be
absorbed in people watching, Rose plotted her next move. Surely she needn't go
back to Poughkeepsie this early. Maybe she could pay a call on Meg...no, that
was out of the question; they'd had little to say to each other since the
debacle with Charlotte, and the whole Quinn family had chilled toward her when
they found out about Sebastian. They'd all been so certain she would come to
her senses after her split with Teddy.
At the sight of a man entering the Chase
National Bank branch across the street, Rose's curiosity was piqued. So they
were open on Saturdays? She quickly paid the check and joined the flow of
pedestrians crossing the street.
Rose crossed a sea of dark, plush carpeting
and hushed voices to find a clerk who could open the vault in the rear. Minutes
later, she was seated in the privacy of a small room, a safe deposit box open
on the table before her.
She had a savings account in Poughkeepsie,
but this was where her real fortune lay. The day before she'd moved in with the
Scotts three years ago, Rose had secured this box and placed inside the money
she'd found in the pockets of Cal's overcoat. And La Coeur de la Mer.
Rose curled her fingers around the sparkling
blue diamond necklace and squeezed her eyes shut.
She imagined the weight of the jewel between
her breasts, lying in casual repose on a chaise lounge. Blue eyes under a
furrowed brow...
Rose's cheeks were damp. She dabbed at her
eyes with a handkerchief and replaced the diamond.
Back in the bustle of the Grand Central
crowd, Rose determined that she would put an end to her relationship with
Sebastian, if he ever bothered to contact her after this. She had just joined
the barrage of travelers marching toward the track where the next Hudson Line
train waited, when she thought she heard her name being called.
"Rose!" There it was again.
She turned and angrily stared down a
red-faced and frantic Sebastian. "Where were you?" he cried.
"I've searched this building top to bottom."
He reached for her, seeking their customary
embrace, but Rose instead let loose her temper. "I was at the clock at
noon. Do you need a new watch, Sebastian? It's the only way you can explain
keeping me waiting for well over an hour!"
"Rose--"
"To think I came all this way on a
crowded train just to see you and you couldn't give me the courtesy of being
here to meet me! I should've taken notice of how you treated Angelica.
Obviously, you like to subject women to this kind of humiliation."
Several onlookers had stopped to gape at
them. Sebastian groaned. "Rose, must you make a scene?"
Rose, adopting her best Philadelphia snob
airs, spun on her heels and continued to the platform. To her chagrin,
Sebastian grabbed her sleeve and pulled her back. "Oh, no you don't,"
he commanded. "Not until you've heard me out."
For the first time Rose became cognizant of
the stares. She calmed outwardly, but inside she was still seething. "I
want the truth this time, Sebastian," she said. "I want to know who
she is."
"Who?"
"My competition. Whomever it is you're
always standing me up to see. Tell me who she is, dammit!"
Sebastian didn't flinch. "Who he
is."
"What?"
"His name is Alexander Garrett.
My father."
Rose blinked.
"That's my surprise, Rose. I'm taking
you to meet him."