A LADY NAMED ROSE
Chapter Sixty

Thanksgiving, 1918

The war was over.

In the streets festivity reigned. For many families, this holiday, coming on the heels of Armistice Day, would be one of homecoming, of great joy and relief.

For Rose, confined by a desire to be alone to what was once Cecilia Scott's nursery, Thanksgiving would be just another day.

Sebastian wasn't among the soldiers returning home. He was still officially MIA; Rose had long since given up any hope of a reunion. That didn't stop her, however, from dreaming of him and awakening with a ghost's arms about her and a ghost's breath on her neck.

Rose had avoided thoughts of Cecilia in the two months since she'd passed on, choosing to return to her Cinderella role in the theater as if nothing had happened, baffling everyone close to her. But as Broadway's newest darling, her little episode was quickly forgiven, and forgotten. Until two weeks past, when she'd unexpectedly given notice. Hugh had laughed uproariously at first, thinking it a joke—what young actress in her position, a rising star of the Great White Way, would walk away from a leading role in Hugh Pollard's latest work of genius? And then he'd seen Rose's deadpan expression and he'd given her hell.

In the end, however, he'd let her go, by now having learned that when Rose Dawson's mind was made up, there would be no changing it. Being a practical man, he even promised to help her find work if she returned. And he was convinced she would return, though for years to come he would regret not trying harder to make her stay.

"Rose Dawson," he would tell his associates, "was a diamond in the rough."

Her friends had chided her for being a fool; Meg in particular, which surprised Rose, as Meg never seemed to care for the theater crowd. In retrospect, it made sense. Meg was going to miss her.

She hadn't told anyone in the Scott household yet, except Marie, and she hadn't really fessed up to her until after Miss Yvette told her. Marie stayed on after Cecilia's death, now serving as nurse to Cecilia's mother, who'd suffered a complete nervous breakdown and was on a regimen of medication that kept her in a blissful stupor in her bedroom. There was no Bridie to coddle her anymore; following the loss of her husband, Bridie decided to resign and moved with her two children to her in-laws' home. Meg said she was taking in sewing to earn a living.

Rose had accepted, reluctantly, Bill Scott's invitation to Thanksgiving dinner, and arrived to find three new maids and few familiar faces at the mansion. Arnolde had already prepared the meal and left the food in the oven to warm while he went home to be with his wife. Marie had the day off and was preparing her own supper at the cottage in honor of India, who was home for the weekend, but mysteriously disappeared that morning, along with Bill, who'd taken a leave of absence from Harvard. Richard and Josephine had escaped to the cottage after their grandmother shooed them away, presumably so their mother could have her rest, but it was probably for Mrs. Hammond's own sake. William Sr. was closeted in the study and Lucy entertained a suitor in the parlor. All this Rose learned from a rather garrulous maid, who showed her to Cecilia's room.

Rose started to object, "Isn't--wasn't this room...aren't there children's things in there?" And then the servant opened the door, revealing a simple bed and dressing table in a room devoid of any trace of the little girl who had lived there.

"Yes, miss, this was a nursery. The child's things have been put away. I do apologize, but the guest room is already occupied. Mrs. Scott's mother has come for an extended visit." A touch of derision crept into her voice.

Rose was about to get a full dose of Victoria's mother, a woman she'd barely exchanged ten words with in the past. She had just changed into a dinner gown and was about to head downstairs when the old lady appeared in her doorway, giving her the once-over with red-rimmed pale eyes. "You mind escorting me down?" she slurred. "No one else around here seems to be hungry yet. This place is like a Goddamned tomb, it's so quiet." She realized her blunder and covered her mouth with a liver-spotted hand.

"Mrs. Hammond," Rose inquired, "are you sure you feel up to dining this evening?"

"Of course I do! But thank you for your concern, dear." She took Rose by the arm and steered her in the direction of the stairs. Rose had a sudden, panicky vision of the two of them stumbling, then rolling head over heels to the landing below. "Victoria always did say you were such a mannered young lady, Rosalind."

They were indeed the first arrivals in the dining room, save Lucy and her young man, who continued to coo at each other as if they had no company. A waitress materialized and asked if Rose would be having any wine with her meal; before she could respond, Mrs. Hammond barked, "Don't you see me standing here, girl? I'd like a glass."

The maid hesitated, glancing frantically at Lucy for guidance. Lucy finally tore her eyes away from her man long enough to rebuke her grandmother. "You've already had quite enough."

"Bah! It's Thanksgiving." She chose a seat at the table and plucked the wine glass from the place setting. "Fill this, and bring the bottle while you're at it."

Again, the maid looked at Lucy, who shrugged and turned away, then took the glass and scurried from the room.

"Where is everybody?" Mrs. Hammond blared.

"We're right here, Lucille." William made his grand entrance, greeted Rose stiffly, and leaned forward to kiss his mother-in-law's hand. "You're looking...festive this evening," he added, eyeing her gaudy collection of costume pearls--she wore real ones only for the most formal of occasions--and ruby rings with distaste. If she noticed his sarcasm, she disregarded it.

"Rose!" It was Richard, who'd slipped in quietly behind his father. Apparently, no one informed him of her visit. He rushed over, a look of surprise and pure happiness crossing his features, and very nearly hugged her, at the last second realizing how inappropriate that would appear, and instead awkwardly stuck out a hand. She shook it, noting how handsome he'd become, her former charge who was now a fair-haired young man of fourteen.

"Richard, where is your sister?" his father demanded. "The first course is about to be served."

Immediately Richard's demeanor changed. "I dunno. Last I saw her, she was still at the guest house with Sir." He pulled out a chair and poured himself a glass of water from a carafe on the table, insolently failing to acknowledge his grandmother.

Josephine arrived within minutes. Rose noted with some alarm that she'd lost what remained of her baby fat and appeared gaunt. She had a similar reaction to her brother's upon seeing Rose, but then took a seat beside Richard and toyed quietly with her silverware.

"I know better than to wait for Bill," William huffed, settling his bulk into his place at the head of the table. "Let's get started, shall we?" He rang a little bell to summon the maid.

"You're starting without me?" came a hoarse squeak from the doorway. All heads turned. Victoria, in her dressing gown, silk kimono and slippers, with her hair pinned back in a loose chignon and carelessly applied makeup, favored all assembled with a weak smile. William and Lucy's guest both rose but before they could come to her aid, she'd already seated herself at the foot of the table. The serving girl, wheeling in a cart of fresh oysters, caviar, pâté and petit fours, did a double take.

"I'll have one serving of everything, please," Mrs. Scott commanded. "I'm absolutely famished. " Everyone stared, and even Josephine was sitting up straight now, but the lady of the house went on pretending as if all were normal.

"That's right, Vicky," Mrs. Hammond nodded her approval. "Put some meat back on those bones."

Everyone was so busy gaping at Victoria that they didn't notice the slam of the front door. As it happened, Rose was facing the dining room entryway and she saw Bill first, followed by India, Sir, and bringing up the rear, Marie. She had a sudden premonition that something momentous was about to happen, and her stomach did a somersault.

"Good evening!" Bill proclaimed.

His father's face darkened, but when he spoke his voice was controlled. "We were wondering when you were planning on joining us, son."

"Oh, I wasn't planning on joining you at all. I already ate at Marie's. But I have some news that I'd like to share with everyone. Dorothy, could you please bring the rest of the staff in from the kitchen?"

"Just what kind of a stunt do you think you're pulling now?"

"Not a stunt, Father," Bill replied good-naturedly. "Thanksgiving is a happy occasion. I wouldn't spoil it with a stunt."

The waitress returned from the kitchen with the other maids and Randolph, whom the Scotts traditionally invited to Thanksgiving dinner as he had no family in the area, although he ate with the other servants.

"This is the happiest day of my life," Bill announced. "This week, I asked the woman I love for her hand in marriage—" at this point he reached behind him and a blushing India stepped forward, taking his hand, " –and she said yes."

Mrs. Hammond gasped. Richard, who'd been feigning boredom, choked on his water and spit a mouthful across the table into Lucy's face. For once, she was in too much shock to pounce on him.

An apoplectic William leaped to his feet. "How dare you try to ruin this day, and with your mother finally well enough to come downstairs! Did you know about this?" He turned on Marie, who appeared genuinely perplexed.

"No, sir, I sure didn't. India, what's this about, girl?"

"I'm sorry, Auntie." India's eyes sparkled with tears. "We couldn't tell you."

"Damn right you couldn't tell me! All this time I think you're going to school trying to better yourself and you creeping around like a fool with this boy we work for! What the hell's wrong with you?" Her voice rose to such a degree Sir backed into the hallway, out of sight.

"I was going to school."

"Really? So when'd you have time for him?" Marie's eyes widened in sudden horror. "You ain't...in trouble, are you?"

"No, Auntie. Me and Bill never— "

"Well, at least we can be thankful for that," William said, returning to his seat with a stealthy glare at his son. "We're going to have a nice long talk after dinner. Maybe when you go back to Harvard I'll need to check in with the deans regularly, make sure you're actually attending classes."

"There's no need for that," Bill spoke, carefully. "I'm not going back to Harvard."

"The hell you aren't!" William bellowed, slamming his palms on the table. Everyone except Victoria jumped.

"Father, haven't you been listening? India and I are engaged." Bill tightened his grip on his love's hand. "We're moving to California, and we're getting married."

"California?" Marie cried out in alarm. "Baby, why, why are you going all the way out there?"

"Mama's there," India said. "In San Francisco. She wrote to me. She wants me to come see her."

"Martine abandoned you." Marie's voice hardened. "I'm the one that's taken care of you and your baby brother all these years. How could you do this to me?"

"She's not doing this to hurt you." All eyes turned back to Victoria, who was spreading caviar on toast as if the drama unfolding before her was just a play on a stage. She finally lifted her own eyes to meet India's. "Tell her, dear. Tell her of your dream of becoming a writer."

"You knew?" William confronted her, aghast.

"They came to me days ago," Victoria said. "Our son has no desire to work for you. He wants to be a jazz pianist. Maybe someone in this family deserves to find happiness." She calmly took a sip of wine, and leveled her husband with a steely gaze. "They would've told you as well, darling, if you weren't spending all your time in New York with your whore."

William paled a moment, but quickly recovered. "I don't see how you can keep up with my activities, with all those pills you take."

"I don't need to hear this." An indignant Lucy pushed back from the table. "This has to be the most humiliating display I have ever seen. Let's go to the city. I'm sure there will be a restaurant open where we can have a peaceful meal." Her beau remained seated, looking from Victoria to William and back again, until Lucy tugged at his elbow.

He nodded politely at the Scotts, mumbled, "It was nice meeting all of you," and made a hasty exit.

Lucy, at his heels, slowed only to hiss at Bill, "See what you've done."

The silence that followed was so thick it could be cut with a knife. Mrs. Hammond suddenly broke it with a throaty cackle. "Well, you certainly told him, dear, bravo!" She gulped down the last of her wine. "I'll need another bottle. Where's that girl?" She scanned the room for Dorothy, but the maids had discreetly slipped back into the kitchen.

Victoria continued to stare William down. He finally said, "Perhaps we should talk in private."

"I don't believe we have anything to talk about, William."

Later, Rose couldn't put her finger on what possessed her to take the action she did, only that it seemed the right thing to do, to show her support for a friend. She stood, walked around the table and embraced first Bill, then India. "Congratulations, both of you."

"Has everyone at this table gone mad?" William shouted.

"Please don't yell. It's hurting my eardrums," Mrs. Hammond protested. Richard began to snicker. Josephine kicked him in the shin, and he punched her shoulder, causing her to cry out. She promptly grabbed her glass of water and spilled it into his lap.

"Hey!"

"Children, please," their mother admonished. She'd stopped eating and covered her forehead, which had broken into a sweat, with one hand.

"Look at your mother," William sputtered at his son. "Are you happy now? Abandoning your family and your education to elope to God knows where with this—this black gold-digging wench."

"India is not a gold-digger!" Bill shot back. "She's a beautiful, self-respecting young lady, unlike Lucy. Do you know what your daughter's probably doing right now with her so-called gentleman?"

"That's enough!" William ordered. "Go to California, both of you. Be lazy college dropouts and thumb your noses at the world if you must. But you'll never get anything else from me. You can walk to the train."

"I can give you a ride to New York," Rose said, her heart pounding. "I drove here in Sebastian's automobile. I can take you to Miss Yvette's and give you a ride to Pennsylvania Station in the morning."

"Mama won't like this," Marie argued, but her protests had lost all bite.

"I'll explain to her," Rose responded. "I suppose we should be leaving now. I have a trip of my own ahead of me, and I'd like to get up early in the morning to finish packing."

"Where are you going?" Victoria asked.

"Home. Chippewa Falls, Wisconsin. I sold Sebastian's house, resigned from the play, and I'm leaving first thing Saturday morning."

"No!" Josephine cried. She jumped out of her chair and faced Rose imploringly. "You can't leave!"

"I'm sorry to have to break it to you all like this. You've been so kind to me, and I think of you as family. But this is a journey I need to make."

With a sob, Josephine fled the room, her shoes sounding a furious rhythm on the stairs.

Randolph, who'd thus far remained invisible, came forward, grasping Rose's hand. "I'll be right disappointed to see you leave, Rose. You're such a joy to have around. But, if you don't mind me asking, do you intend to make this journey alone?"

"Why, yes, I am, and I thank you for your concern, but— "

"No buts," Randolph said. "I'm going west with you." He turned to William, who by now had run out of steam and was absorbed, as were his mother-in-law and wife, in a glass of wine. "I apologize, sir, but I do have quite a bit of vacation time coming to me. I just don't want to see Rose traveling all that distance by herself."

"Randolph, that won't be necessary." Rose felt as though she were compounding the Scotts' problems.

"Not to worry, dear. I can take a train from Wisconsin to Denver where my daughter lives. I haven't lain eyes on my grandchildren in quite some time."

"Is anyone staying in this house?" William groaned.

*****

"Head for the horizon," Cecilia whispered in Rose's ear the last time they saw each other, and if Rose had any doubts before that the child had made Jack's acquaintance, she didn't now.

So she was going, she reasoned, to retrace Jack's footsteps as closely as she could, and to keep the promise she made him.

The day of her departure, the Saturday after Thanksgiving, was so unseasonably warm it was almost prophetic. No one was at the rooming house when Rose left. All the other tenants were away for the holiday weekend. Normally Miss Yvette would be bustling about in the kitchen, but this morning she left at dawn on some errand, after two men from the church came to load Rose's luggage into the car. She didn't care for good-byes, she told Rose flatly on Friday night, so they'd simply hugged and gone to bed.

Rose deposited her keys in a flowerpot beside the walkway and refused to look back.

She absorbed every sight on the road and committed it to memory: Harlem shopkeepers opening for business; the ever-growing skyline of lower Manhattan—skyscrapers, people were calling the towering office buildings; the many hues of foliage in the mountains; riverboats on the Hudson. It would be several years before she laid eyes on any of it again.

At the Scotts', Randolph briefed a uniformed young man Rose assumed would serve as William's valet in Randolph's absence. While waiting, she wandered into the kitchen and found Marie at the table, unburdening herself to Arnolde. The day before, she and Sir had come to New York to see India and Bill off, and after the train pulled out of the station, the usually stoic nurse collapsed in Rose's arms, sobbing.

"You running off 'n leaving us too, eh?" Arnolde said. He embraced Rose heartily. "We're mighty sorry to see you go, Rosie. You come on back and visit soon, y'hear?"

"I will." She looked at Marie, who held out her arms. Rose ran into them. "Come visit me," she said. "When I get settled, I'll buy you and Sir train tickets to Wisconsin."

"Can you buy us tickets to San Francisco, too?" Marie replied sadly.

She and Arnolde accompanied Rose out to the porch, where to Rose's surprise, William and Victoria, along with Lucy, Richard, Sir, and even the dog had gathered to give her a proper sendoff. An exhausted-looking William politely shook her hand, thanked her for her years of service and offered his assistance if needed in the future.

"Will you be working on your art?" Victoria inquired.

"Yes, I will."

Victoria smiled; it was an uplifting sight. "Good. I want you to keep me apprised of your progress."

As Richard, Sir, and Skipper walked her to her car, Rose inquired after Josephine. The boys shifted uncomfortably, and Sir spoke up, "She's in her room. She ain't feeling too good."

"I see. Well, I'd like both of you to do me a favor, please. Take care of her."

They nodded.

Randolph appeared at her side, almost unrecognizable in a casual traveling outfit. "Are we ready?" he asked cheerily.

"Never more so," Rose responded. She gave each of the boys a hug and kiss, much to their embarrassment, gave Skipper a pat on the head and waved to the pitiful little group assembled on the porch. Arnolde had an arm around Marie, who wiped at her eyes with a handkerchief. Victoria sat in the porch swing, with Lucy behind her, hands on her shoulders. William stood alone, lifting his hand in response to Rose's wave. She glanced upward and thought she glimpsed a face peering through a curtain but couldn't be sure.

She and Randolph were headed down the drive when they heard Skipper barking. "My, I do believe that pup doesn't want us to leave," Randolph chuckled.

Rose looked backward, to see Skipper on their tail, and behind him, a small figure running like mad.

"Wait!" Josephine shrieked at the top of her lungs. In one hand she bore a suitcase, in the other, a stuffed bunny. "Wait for me!"

Rose stopped the Benz and climbed out. Recognizing the battered favorite toy Josie carried, her heart ached and her eyes watered for the first time that day.

"I wanna go with you," Josie panted. "Please, please don't leave me here."

In the distance her parents watched anxiously from the porch steps. Richard and Sir were racing down the driveway, Richard whistling at Skipper, who ignored him.

"You can't go, sweetie. Wisconsin's so far away. You'll miss your family."

"I hate them! They don't care about me." Josephine's voice broke, but she bravely held back the tears.

"They do care." Rose knelt before her and grasped her hands. "Your parents have their own problems, but they have nothing at all to do with their love for you. And Richard and Sir would be so lonely if you left." There was a flicker in Josephine's eyes at the mention of Sir's name. Rose plunged forward. "Besides, Wisconsin's freezing, almost all year round. The lakes are all covered in ice, no good for swimming."

The boys caught up and at Rose's warning glance they said nothing. Rose drew Josie into her arms much as she had when the girl was five years old, and held her close. "When you get older, like me," she said, "you can go anywhere you want."

With these words Rose left Tarrytown behind and embarked upon a new adventure. In a hidden pocket she'd sewn into her coat was a blue diamond, her lucky charm.

Chapter Sixty-One
Stories