A LADY NAMED ROSE
Chapter Five
As easy as it had been for Rose to lapse into
sleep in the hospital, it eluded her for hours on end during the next few
nights. It seemed she couldn't adjust to the endless cacophony of sound in the
streets below--whether it was drunken laughter or brawls outside of the tavern
on the corner, the rumbling el train a short distance away, or the horse-drawn
carriages and occasional automobile right beneath the one window in what passed
for a living room in the O'Boyle apartment. And if the noise outside wasn't
enough, she had to contend with what went on inside: loud arguments in the
stairwell, dogs barking...and, in the bedroom, halfhearted bickering
alternating with the vigorous lovemaking of her hosts. Rose had never heard
anyone fight and then make up quite as often.
The only alternative at the moment was the
Quinn apartment, which was only a few blocks away. And, as Meg described it, it
was even smaller than this one.
Because the walls were so thin, Rose was
unfortunately privy to much of what was said between Bridie and Joseph, and
that first night, the discussion centered around her.
"She has no baggage, Joe," Bridie
pointed out. "Have you ever heard of a woman traveling thousands of miles
with nothin' but the clothes on her back?"
"Didn't Meg say Rose was robbed in the
shelter?"
Bridie sighed. "Meg thinks that's what
happened to her. Meg has a wild imagination. Did I ever tell you about the time
she thought fairies were livin' in our basement? Bugged the super somethin'
awful!"
"Yes, you told me. But she was a little
girl then. Rose really could have been robbed. We don't know what goes on in
those places."
"Robbed, eh? Well, what about them
earrings she was wearin'? Don't tell me you didn't notice. Real pearls, I
bet!"
Rose resolved at that moment to get rid of
the jewelry as soon as the O'Doyles left for work in the morning.
Finding a pawn shop was easier than she'd
thought it would be. In fact, it wasn't very difficult to find any service one
needed in this neighborhood. But Rose waited until she was a safe distance from
the building before making inquiries. The last thing she needed was Bridie
poking her nose any further into her private affairs.
She could have told them the truth. Instead
of substituting Jack's life story for her own, she could have simply told them
she'd been a passenger aboard the Titanic, that her loved ones and all of her
belongings had been lost in the sinking, and that she was looking to start a
new life in New York. But she knew instinctively that Bridie wouldn't be
satisfied with that explanation. Meg was the one with the education, but her
sister had the street smarts. She'd dig and dig until she discovered the whole
story. And then somehow, eventually, word that Rose was alive would reach her
mother or Cal.
God only knew what they'd do to her if they
found her.
Rose parted with her earrings and Cal's coat
at the pawnbrokers', after first stuffing the cash he'd left into the bodice of
her dress. The diamond was back at the apartment, hidden underneath the sofa
cushions. After agonizing over the question of what to do with the necklace,
she decided to keep it. It was all she had left to remind her of Jack.
She hesitated at entering the secondhand
store across the street. On the trips they'd made to New York in the past, Rose
and her parents had shopped at only the finest boutiques and department stores
like Macy's, Bloomingdale's, Lord & Taylor. Rose DeWitt Bukater would never
have set foot in a dark, dusty warehouse to buy clothing worn and discarded by
other women--many of whom were of a lower social class. But that was ages ago,
and that woman no longer existed.
She ended up rummaging through three stores,
and returned to the apartment with four bags filled with purchases: comfortable
dresses and walking shoes (all of them rather modest compared to what she was
used to), stockings and undergarments, a purse or two, a shawl and a new coat.
And she still had a few hundred dollars left! Cal was quite generous, she
thought with a smile.
Having little left to occupy her time before
the O'Boyles returned home, Rose decided to show her gratitude by doing a
little housecleaning. It was, after all, something she'd have to adjust to.
"Now, let's see, where is the
broom..." Rose located it behind the cook stove. As she reached for it, a
cockroach scuttled up the wall past her hand.
She let out a squeal and jumped backwards,
then giggled nervously. "Come now, it's only a little bug."
Nevertheless, she grabbed the broom quickly, holding it before her like a
shield until she was certain there would be no more nasty surprises.
Hours later, the floor was thoroughly swept,
the breakfast dishes washed and put away, the trash removed to the incinerator
down the hall, and Joseph's dirty clothes--which had been strewn about the
bedroom--placed into the laundry basket in the closet. The night before, Rose
had insisted that Bridie show her where everything went, and Bridie was only too
happy to oblige her. Maybe she wouldn't be so grouchy when she came home.
Rose checked the clock above the couch.
Nearly 5:30. Only a short while before Joseph was due. Since he worked on
Sundays, his Monday shift was blessedly short. Bridie's job, however, was
located quite a distance away and Rose wouldn't be expecting her for at least
two hours.
The idea struck in that instant. She would
prepare dinner, so Bridie wouldn't have to cook!
After several tries--and wasted matches--Rose
was able to light a fire in the coal stove. Happily, she set about dragging
pots and pans from the cabinets and located a large bag of rice. After filling
a pot with water and setting it atop the stove to boil, she sliced the bag open
with a butcher knife and poured a generous quantity into the water. She'd seen
her cook back home boil rice. It was easy.
Hmmm, that didn't look like enough. Rose
poured until nearly half the bag was in the pot. Then she searched in the
icebox for the roast that Bridie had mentioned she wanted to make that
evening...
As Joseph entered the building, he thought he
smelled something burning. He followed his firefighting nose to the fifth-floor
landing, and was alarmed to discover that the smell of smoke was thickest right
outside his own door.
Rose was so preoccupied with trying to remove
an overflowing pot from a burner on the stove, she didn't hear Joseph burst
through the door. He surveyed the room in amazement: the cook stove belching
smoke; grains of rice spilled about the floor; a pot roast sitting forlornly in
a roasting pan on the countertop, surrounded by piles of vegetables stacked
halfway to the ceiling.
"Bloody Christ!" he exclaimed.
"What do you think you're doing?"
At that, Rose dropped the pot.
Luckily, with Joseph's help, she was able to clean
up the mess before Bridie's arrival. To Rose's surprise, he began to season the
roast; during long shifts, the firemen had to take turns cooking meals, he
explained. The rice was a lost cause. While Rose scrubbed the pot with scouring
pads, Joseph offered to tell Bridie a neighbor had asked to borrow a few
cupfuls. Rose thanked him profusely--and then they both collapsed into
laughter. Rose howled until her sides felt near to bursting and tears sprouted
from her eyes.
"So tell me, Rose," Joseph asked between
chuckles, "are you ready to be a maid to a family of six?"
Rose abruptly stopped what she was doing. The
enormity of what she was going to face hit her with his question.
She would have to be ready Wednesday. That's
when Bridie was taking her to interview with the Scotts.