LOVE FOR LIFE AND BEYOND
Chapter Six

Rose could already see the shoreline of New York. It will be great to get back on firm ground, she thought.

Slowly, the Statue of Liberty came into view. A great cheer went up as they approached the dock. Molly turned to Jack and Rose, a huge grin on her face.

"It sure is good to be back home."

"Yes, it is," laughed Rose.

"Even if you are going back to Wisconsin after you get married, you’ll still need a place to stay for the time being and you’re welcome to stay with me," said Molly.

"That’s very kind of you," said Rose.

"Thank you very much for your offer," added Jack.

"You’re certainly welcome," replied Molly. "Now, I’ll meet you two at the third class exit after we disembark."

Jack and Rose disembarked the ship quickly and rejoined Molly. She hailed a cab and they soon arrived at the Waldorf-Astoria Hotel. Rose looked at it in horror—she would have stayed here if the engagement had proceeded as planned.

"Cal and Mother might be staying here!" exclaimed Rose. "What will we do?"

"Honey, everything is going to be fine," replied Molly. "You’ll only be here for a night."

Jack gave Rose’s hand a reassuring squeeze. "Molly’s right. Everything will be fine."

A bellhop came and ushered them to two connecting rooms.

"Here’s the key," said Molly, handing it to Rose. "If you want something to eat, just order from room service. I’m going out for a breath of fresh air."

"Wait a moment," said Rose, laying a hand on Molly’s shoulder. "Could you please pawn these pieces of jewelry for me?" she asked, drawing the aforementioned objects from her pocket.

"Sure. I’d be glad to," replied Molly, and departed.

Rose opened the door and entered the room, Jack following behind. He gaped at the opulence; somehow, he could never get over the fact that Rose had lived all her life in such grandeur.

"Gee, this room is even fancier than the one you had on the Titanic," he said.

Rose laughed. "This pales in comparison with some of the rooms in the house in Philadelphia. The drawing room, for instance, was crammed so full of antiques, there was barely room for the furniture, let alone people," said Rose. "Mother insisted on keeping it that way," she added.

Jack made a face. "Let me guess. You weren’t allowed in there and you got into plenty of trouble once when you did."

Rose smiled wryly. "Exactly. How did you guess?"

"Oh, our parlor was pretty much the same. It had horsehair chairs—"

"That were so slippery you had to push your toes against the floor to keep from sliding off," finished Rose. "I remember almost sliding off one of those chairs once when Mother went calling on her friends."

"Ours weren’t too bad, I suppose. They were pretty worn, so you didn’t slip too much, and Ma normally shooed me away with cookies or doughnuts when we had company."

Jack smiled at the memory. He would climb the pine tree by the house and look in the parlor window, often making the most dreadful faces. Once, the mortified expression of one particular lady had almost made him fall out of the tree laughing. Afterwards, he had received a thorough scolding from Ma, but it had been worth it. His parents had perished in the fire not long afterwards.

"You’re thinking about your parents, aren’t you?" asked Rose softly.

"How did you know?" asked Jack.

"The look on your face said it all. I remember seeing a tainted version of it on my mother’s face when someone or something brought up my father," Rose replied.

Jack kissed her. "What was your father like?"

Chapter Seven
Stories