A LADY NAMED ROSE
Chapter Forty-Four
May, 1916
To the sound of a thunderous standing
ovation, Rose took the stage beside her castmates and curtsied gracefully. She
was pleasantly surprised at the audience's generous response; throughout her
performance she'd concentrated intensely on recalling her lines and tried to
forget the several hundred faces trained upon her. Now she sought out familiar
faces in the crowd and found a few: Vera, Professor Curry, the Geisels.
She knew there were others; Victoria, for
instance, instead of being angry with Rose for taking two months off, had been
excited for her and insisted upon taking the train to see the play. It allowed
her a rare opportunity to catch up with former classmates who either worked on
campus or returned occasionally for special events. Sebastian would be there,
too, of course. He had planned a celebratory dinner at Aunt Mary's for the two
of them.
A member of the crew approached the stage and
presented her with a bouquet of roses and carnations. Rose gasped in delight
and withdrew a card which read: Congratulations! Break a leg, The Scotts.
She was suddenly elbowed aside by Angelica,
who stood slightly in front of Rose and waved like a politician at a parade.
Finally, Daphne appeared to take her bows and the curtain fell. Backstage, Rose
was accosted by other members of the cast, who showered her with praise for an
outstanding performance. Rose, unused to such an outpouring of admiration, was
suddenly shy and eager to change into her street clothes. Finding a quiet
corner of the dressing room was not easy; she shared it with three other women,
including Angelica.
Well-wishers began knocking at the door, and
they squealed in unison, "Go away!"
"Angel, it's me."
"Mother!" With no concern for the
others, who were still half-in, half-out of costume, Angelica ran to the door.
Anna Geisel, a walking fashion plate, gave
her daughter a kiss and told her how proud she was. While she moved on to the
other actresses, who knew her from having been in other plays with Angelica, Rose
averted her head and buttoned her shirtwaist. Now was not the time for another
scene with Angelica.
Too late.
"Rose, so good to see you again!"
Anna embraced Rose like a long-lost relative and scolded, "Where have you
been?" Without waiting for an answer, she went on, "Bravo, darling,
on a marvelous performance. Those romantic scenes just took my breath away. I
didn't know you had it in you, dear."
Angelica rolled her eyes.
"Thank you," Rose said.
"You're quite welcome. Listen, I know
you have all these activities you'll want to attend this afternoon, but perhaps
you'd like to join us for dinner? It's been so long since we've had you to the
house and I really feel badly about that."
Angelica was horrified. Before she could open
her mouth, Rose said, "I'm sorry, but I can't accept. Sebastian and I are
dining together this evening."
Anna frowned. "Sebastian's here? I
haven't seen him."
"You haven't?" Rose knew in that
instant that Sebastian had missed the performance. If he'd been there, the
Geisels would have known.
From the corner of an eye, Rose caught
Angelica smirking and felt a flash of anger. How dare he embarrass her like
that! He was the one who'd tricked her into auditioning to begin with.
But what if something was wrong? Rose hadn't
seen Sebastian's father in a while, and the last time she had, he was barely
able to lift his head from the pillow. Maybe Sebastian was on Long Island and
couldn't reach her; Alexander Garrett didn't have a telephone.
Rose searched for Sebastian most of the
afternoon, hoping against hope that he'd show up at the last minute and rescue
her from dinner with Angelica's family. Anna had made her promise to eat with
them if her plans fell through, and it would be rude of her to decline. He
never made an appearance, however. While Victoria chatted with old friends at
the Founder's Day reception, Rose mentally debated whether she should extend a
dinner invitation to her, but never got a chance to ask. Victoria wanted to
hurry home to the children.
By six PM, she'd resigned herself to a
torturous meal with the Geisels. Fritz and Anna, convinced there were no decent
restaurants outside of Manhattan, had made reservations at the Café des
Artistes, a brand-new French bistro already known for its clientele--who were
as colorful as the murals on the walls. Rose had to ignore her growling stomach
during the long drive and endure Fritz's harsh and endless critique of
Angelica's performance in a mixture of English and German. She wasn't sure if
he didn't subject her to the same treatment out of politeness, or because he'd
forgotten she was there. The only one who seemed to be in a favorable mood was
Anna; Angelica and her sullen brother Hans were silent for virtually the entire
trip.
As the automobile made the turn onto West
67th St., Rose thought she spotted a familiar face exiting a restaurant near
the intersection. She turned and stared into the moving mass of pedestrians,
and saw Sebastian, involved in a heated conversation with another man in front
of the restaurant.
Rose blinked and peered harder, but they were
too far away.
It couldn't have been him, could it? He
wouldn't just forget about the play.
She pondered this throughout the evening,
speaking only when spoken to, until, over coffee and dessert, Fritz dropped a
bombshell. "Rosie, haf you considered a career in acting?"
Angelica lowered cup to saucer with a
clatter. "Daddy, don't be silly. Rose paints. What she did today was just
for fun, wasn't it, Rose?"
"I'm not silly. Rose vas excellent
today, vouldn't you agree, Anna?" Anna agreed. "Of course. Rose, you
are a natural on ze stage. I vould like very much to invite you to come vork
for the Geisels after graduation."
Rose dropped her cup, splashing herself,
Angelica and the pristine white tablecloth. Red-faced, she stammered an apology
and attempted to help the waiter clean the spill. The Geisels all thought it
was funny except Angelica, who fussed over the brown stain on her sleeve.
"You should come vork vith us,"
Hans teased, imitating his father. "Ve specialize in vaudeville. You'd be
a sensation."
"Sebastian always said you have ze
presence," Fritz said, studying Rose. "I do hope you vill take me up
on my offer."
She didn't know what to say. At the mention
of Sebastian's name, all other thoughts took flight.
*****
By the time he came to the Vassar campus
seeking her forgiveness, Rose had convinced herself that her eyesight was going
bad, that it was dark that night and she couldn't be sure it was Sebastian she
saw. So she never mentioned it. And when he explained that his father had taken
a turn for the worse, as she thought, she expressed her condolences. But a tiny
voice in the back of her mind cautioned that all wasn't as it seemed.
Sebastian was ecstatic at the news that Fritz
had offered Rose a job and pressured her to take it. With no other offers, save
a few unpaid apprenticeships at fly-by-night galleries, she finally gave in the
day before graduation. She would start in one week, leaving her just enough
time to give notice to the Scotts.
They'd expected it, of course, and she knew
Victoria was happy for her, although William scoffed at the idea that she could
make a career of acting. "You can live here as long as you wish," he
told her. "God knows you won't be able to afford rent in New York."
But commuting back and forth--as Bridie had
done for so many years, only in reverse--would not do, the Geisels insisted.
Their solution: Rose would take a room in their boarding house, as most of the
other members of the troupe had done. Room and board could be deducted from her
salary.
Either Angelica was unaware that she and Rose
would be living in close quarters again, or her protests fell on deaf ears.
Rose wondered if the Geisels were oblivious to their daughter's hatred of her,
but again she took them up on their offer, eager to leave the cramped confines
on her attic space for a glamorous life in New York City.
The excitement faded, however, when she awoke
on Commencement Day. Sadness and apprehension took its place.
Having packed all of her things, there was nothing
left to do but say her good-byes. Rose dressed and left her room quietly. It
was early and few of her dorm mates were awake.
She slipped outside and wandered pathways
lined with sheltering trees, admiring the ivy-covered walls of the Main hall
and the imposing dome of the Observatory for perhaps the last time. This place
had become her sanctuary, the only place she was truly free to express herself.
And now she had to leave it for the unknown. Something tickled her cheek; Rose
touched it and was startled to find it wet.
"We'll miss you, too," came a voice
from the direction of Taylor Hall. Professor Curry--smartly dressed for the
ceremonies--was headed in Rose's direction. She carried an oversize black
leather folder. "I saw you from my window and I thought I'd bring this to
you now."
Rose accepted the portfolio and in an instant
her spirits were lifted. All the sketches she'd completed in the studio program
were there. Her teachers had requested to keep her paintings and sculptures on
display in the art gallery, but made it clear they were hers whenever she
wanted them.
"I know you're going to pursue an acting
career and I wish you all the best," Prof. Curry said. "It's a very
competitive field as well, but I have no doubt that you'll succeed."
Rose's throat constricted. "How can I
thank you? You've been the most supportive member of the faculty from the day I
came here."
The professor placed a hand on Rose's
shoulder. "Don't give up on your artwork. It may seem as though you'll
never sell a painting now, but you've many years yet to learn and practice.
Just be patient. And be sure to invite me to your first opening."
They embraced, and Rose returned to the
dormitory. By now most of the other students were awake, and there was much
bustling in the bathrooms and exchanging of tearful hugs. As she was already
dressed and packed, Rose offered her assistance to Vera and Charlotte, whose
room was a cluttered mess. As class president, Vera would be addressing the
graduates, and she recited her speech softly while pacing the floor. She was
showing no outward signs of anxiety over the future, but then again, she would
be leaving for Chicago with her family in the morning; and then in the fall,
would be returning to New York to pursue a Doctorate in physics at Columbia
University. Her future lay before her like a road map.
"I wish I were graduating,"
Charlotte said glumly. After spending the summer with her aunt in Virginia, she
would be back in the fall to make up for her lost semester.
"Vincent will be here," Rose
offered. "She's lots of fun." That, she knew, was little comfort.
Vera wouldn't be there.
Before they left en masse for the outdoor
theater, Miss Henderson gathered the graduates in the parlor and presented them
each with a small gift-wrapped package. "Good luck to each and every one
of you," she said, wiping away a stray tear. It was the first time any of
them had seen her cry. "Make us proud."
The rest of the day was a blur. Years later
Rose would remember the exact moment she crossed the stage in white cap and
gown and accepted the rolled-up diploma. But the rest of the ceremony had the
aura of a giddy daydream. Afterwards she was caught up in a whirlwind of
congratulations, introductions to her classmates' relatives, and posing for
photographs. Victoria had returned, this time accompanied by Randolph, Lucy,
Richard and Josephine. She particularly wanted her eldest daughter to
familiarize herself with the campus in hopes that she would follow in her
mother's footsteps.
Rose had surprise guests, too; Meg and
Gabriel had taken the train all the way from New York. Therefore it was some
time before she realized that Sebastian wasn't there.
In the evening Rose went home with the
Scotts, all of the belongings she'd accumulated in the past three years jammed
into suitcases and one huge trunk that rested on the floor beneath the
passengers' feet. At the mansion Marie, India, Sir, Arnolde and Cecilia waited
with a cake and champagne. The man of the house was nowhere to be found.
An exhausted Rose excused herself early and
retired to her quarters, but before she could as much as remove her shoes,
Randolph knocked. She groggily made her way downstairs, and discovered
Sebastian awaiting her in the parlor.
He noticed the consternation on her face
immediately. "What is it, love?"
Rose turned her back. "Please go,
Sebastian. It's late. You shouldn't be here at this hour."
"Rose, I'm sorry," he apologized.
"I would have phoned, but--"
"Is that all I'm ever going to hear from
you? "I'm sorries," "I would haves?" You've just missed one
of the most important occasions of my life, Sebastian! And for what? Another
meeting you couldn't miss?"
" 'Another meeting'? What are you
talking about, woman?" Sebastian's face had clouded and it looked as if he
might throttle her. Rose took a step back, but stayed on the offensive.
"Don't speak to me in that tone,"
she warned. "I saw you, the night of my "debut," as you called
it, coming out of a restaurant on Broadway and 67th. I had dinner not far from
there with the Geisels, remember?" As the rage in Sebastian's eyes turned
to confusion, Rose realized she'd hit her mark and moved in for the kill.
"And you told me you were on Long Island with your father. You told me his
condition had worsened."
"He died last night. I've spent the day
making funeral arrangements."
Stunned into silence, Rose realized how
haggard Sebastian looked. He dragged himself wearily to the loveseat near the
fireplace; she joined him and took his hands in hers.
"I'm sorry," she whispered.
"So sorry."
"I need to find her now, more than
ever," he was saying, more to himself than to her.
"Find whom?"
"My mother."
"Your mother??? I thought she was
dead."
"I did, too," he said, "for a
long time."
"I don't understand."
His grip on her hands tightened suddenly, and
he stared into her eyes. "If I tell you something, you must promise never
to reveal it to a soul."
"I promise. Sebastian, you're
frightening me."
"You want to know the truth, Rose. I owe
it to you, and now I'm going to tell you. All of it."