ROSE GOES ON
Chapter Eleven

By the following evening, John had still not told Rose what was going on. Rose stood at the sink, washing the dinner dishes, still wondering what was going on. His secrecy surprised her. He had never seemed to her to be the type who would be embarrassed over not receiving an inheritance; indeed, he had never expected one. There was no reason to hide from her the fact that the girls might have received something; certainly, she would never try to take it from them. But there was also no reason for him to avoid the subject if Mary and Nadia had received nothing. The two children had no idea what was going on, and thus expected nothing.

She wondered briefly if he and the girls might have received something, but not herself and Christopher. In that case, he might be trying to avoid hurting her with the news; not that she had expected anything, anyway. She was no relation to the Anders, not even by marriage, though Christopher called Elizabeth Anders Grandma just as Mary and Nadia did.

Rose looked up as John came back into the kitchen, propping the door open to keep an eye on the three children playing in the main room. Allegro followed him, lying down in front of the open door and licking his paws. Squeals of laughter came from the room as the three children played some game.

Rose glanced out the door to be sure Christopher was all right. He and the girls usually got along, but Mary and Nadia were older and bigger than he was, and sometimes he became the toy. As long as the giggles continued, she wasn’t concerned, but occasionally the older children got too rough with the three-year-old, whether on purpose or not. At times, the girls got upset with Christopher, who would sometimes play with their belongings without permission, or tease them, particularly Mary. Rose had tried again and again to break her son of the habit of teasing Mary, but he never seemed to learn. Possibly, Mary herself would break him of the habit, but Rose doubted it. All the yelling and complaining only made Christopher enjoy teasing her more.

Tonight, however, the three children were getting along. They sat in a circle on the floor, chanting something and occasionally getting up and running around the room, playing a game that made sense only to them. Rose watched as Christopher stopped and attempted to stand on his head, drawing giggles from the girls at his clumsiness. Of course, neither Mary nor Nadia were any better at such stunts, so the boy would undoubtedly be laughing at them before long.

Rose looked at John. He was looking at his folded hands, his expression pensive, as though trying to decide what to say to her. He glanced up when he realized she was watching him.

"Elizabeth has offered me a job," he told her, "and I have accepted."

Rose had turned back to the dishes, but looked up again at his announcement. "What kind of job?"

"As a manager for Anders. She inherited everything from her late husband, and she is looking for people who can be a bridge between the management and the workers. I have experience both as a worker and as a foreman, so she thinks I can do this."

Rose was silent for a moment. "It’s a great opportunity for you," she said at last, turning to dry the stack of dishes.

"You don’t sound very happy."

"I suppose you’ll be moving uptown, taking your place in the higher social strata."

"I suppose I will...if it works out. It’s too soon to tell what will happen."

"Be careful if you move up in society. It looks so nice on the outside, but inside...there’s a lot of backbiting, snobbery, and clannish behavior. The upper class doesn’t like to let outsiders in, especially new money."

"I hardly think I’ll be moving into the ranks of the upper class."

"You will...financially, anyway. I’ve known you for four years, and if anyone can succeed, it’s you. Just be careful that you don’t forget your beginnings. Many people do...and then they look down on those whose circumstances are humbler than theirs, and forget that they were once a part of those humble beginnings, too."

Memories of her own, much higher, beginnings ran through her mind. Not everyone wanted to be a part of the upper class. What she had told John was true--the upper class looked bright and glamorous to an outsider, but only one that had lived amongst them knew what it was really like. To be sure, it wasn’t all bad--there certainly were advantages to being wealthy and high-status, and the upper class, like any other group, had its share of genuinely good people--but she had no desire to ever return to that life.

The life she had chosen was harder than the one she had left behind, but it was livelier and more challenging. Had she remained among the upper class, she would never have known the joys or trials of raising the children--or even her own child. Most likely, her mother would have discreetly sent her away somewhere to have her baby, and Christopher would have been put up for adoption. Then, she would have returned from "school" or from her "visit with relatives", and been quickly married off to avoid another scandal, if not to Cal, then to some other man.

Still, she wasn’t entirely satisfied with the life she was living, either. She liked and respected John, and loved the girls as though they were her own daughters, but this wasn’t the way she had envisioned living when she had stepped off the Carpathia four years earlier. She no longer lived under the restrictions of the upper class, but in some ways her new life was equally restrictive. She lived in John’s apartment, ate the food he provided, and cared for his home and children, but she hadn’t really progressed much from the time when she had been Rose DeWitt Bukater. Although she was no longer under the control of her mother and Cal, she had other duties and responsibilities, leaving little time for her to pursue her dreams.

She was safe and well provided for, but she had been growing more and more restless, especially since Mary had started school, reducing the amount of work she had to do. She had been living with the Calverts for four years, but she had done little to follow her dreams. Her responsibilities to the children in her care made it difficult to take the time to try other things, and while John had never tried to restrict her activities, she suspected that he might not approve of her taking time away from the job she was hired to do.

Her job was good--certainly much better than working in a sweatshop--but it wasn’t what she wanted out of life. Still, could she leave her charges behind, and expose her son to the uncertainties of life? She wanted to experience all that life had to offer, but she had responsibilities to others besides herself.

Rose looked over again as John spoke to her.

"It would mean more money," he told her, referring to the new position for which he had been hired. "I could hire more help, so you wouldn’t have to work as hard. You would have more time to spend with Christopher, more time to do the things you want."

In that moment, Rose made her decision. As hard as it would be to leave the Calverts behind, it was time to move on. John didn’t need her services anymore, and the girls were old enough that they no longer needed a full-time nanny. She could go her own way without the guilt of leaving them in need.

She shook her head. "I won’t be coming with you," she told him. "I lived as a member of the upper class once, and I won’t do it again--not even as a servant." She turned once again to look at him. "I’ve been thinking about this for a long time, John. I was planning to stay until Nadia started school, when you would no longer need me to watch her. I’m twenty-one years old, and I’ve done little in my life. There’s so many things I want to do before I settle down--travel, see what’s in the world, perhaps start a career. I’ve lived in New York City for four years now, and I lived in Philadelphia before that. Aside from going to Europe a couple of times, and going to finishing school in upstate New York, I haven’t really been anywhere. I have a three-year-old son, but I’m not married, and I never have been. I want more out of life than just domestic work."

"If I were to succeed in this job, and move uptown and hire more staff, you would be in charge of them--running the household, so to speak. You wouldn’t be so much a maid as a manager yourself."

"But it isn’t what I want." Rose sat down at the table. "John, please try to understand. It’s not that I dislike this job, or you, or Mary and Nadia. I just feel that it’s time for me to move on, to find my place in the world."

"And what about Christopher? What will you do with him while you’re making your place in the world?"

"He’ll come with me, of course. He’s my son, and I will do everything I can to see that he is provided for. But I can’t go back to the world I left--not even for his sake. I don’t want him growing up in that world."

"I could refrain from joining the upper class. I never aspired to it, never expected to be a part of it. The middle class would suit me well enough, and Mary and Nadia, too."

Rose looked at him, surprised. "You would do that for me? Give up the chance to be a member of high society?"

"I...yes, I would."

Rose gave him a curious look. Why would he give up the chance at the power and status that came with being a member of the upper class, and the opportunity for his daughters to gain that same status, something that most immigrant children never would?

She voiced the question. "Why?"

John looked at her, a little uncomfortably. Rose suspected that his feelings for her were stronger than he let on, but she had never been sure. Was it because he cared for her that he would give up so much, or was it for the sake of his daughters, who had grown attached to Rose over the years?

"Mary and Nadia need you," he told her at last. "You’ve become like a mother to them."

Rose nodded. The girls treated her as though she was their mother, though they still called her Aunt Rose. Neither of them remembered their own mothers, so far as she could tell, though Nadia still sometimes called out in her sleep in a foreign language, one that she never spoke consciously. Could she leave them, after being their caretaker for so many years?

"I’d keep in touch," she assured him, feeling guilty even as she said the words. Both girls had lost their mothers; Mary had lost two mothers. But Rose wouldn’t be lost to them; she would simply be moving on. She was only a nanny, only a caretaker...but she knew that the girls trusted her, and would be devastated if she left. But if she stayed, her own bitterness toward the life that she lived would eventually drive them apart. This wasn’t what she wanted out of life. There were so many things that she wanted to do, so many places that she wanted to see, and she couldn’t do that if she stayed. But could she simply leave them behind?

As though reading her thoughts, John told her, "They’d miss you, especially Nadia. Mary--Mary is strong. She’s used to people leaving. But Nadia..." He shook his head. "I don’t know how Nadia would handle it."

Rose remembered all too well how devastated Nadia had been by the sinking of the Titanic and the loss of her mother, but she knew as well that being cared for by a bitter, unhappy woman wasn’t the answer--and that was certainly what she would become in time. She would always look at the girls and think of what she had given up for them, of what might have been--and they would all suffer for it. Were they her own children, Rose would have had no qualms about taking them with her as she headed out into life, but they weren’t hers; she couldn’t take them with her, and she knew that John would not give up his career so that Rose could fulfill her dreams.

"Nadia is growing up, John. She’s not a baby anymore. In a few months, she’ll be going to school. She’ll make new friends outside of her own home. She won’t...won’t need me. She’ll have you, and Mary, and...whoever you hire to help care for them. And...and I’ll still be around. I’ll write often, come to visit if I can."

"And they’ll still feel abandoned."

"In time...in time they’ll understand. If I stay, eventually I will come to resent them, to resent the fact that I never even tried to do the things I’ve dreamed of. I would be unhappy, and ultimately, so would they."

"You wouldn’t have to be a nanny and housekeeper. You could do anything you want...establish a career, travel. I’m sure they’d enjoy traveling with you."

"And how would you then explain my presence in your home?" Rose smiled ruefully. "You can explain a nanny for your children, but an unmarried woman living in your home, working for herself? I just don’t think it would work. Especially not with Christopher. I know how people can talk, and it would be nothing short of scandalous."

"You could become my wife."

Rose stared at him, not quite believing what she had heard. "What?"

"I said, you could become my wife. Then there would be no problem of your living with me, being a mother to Mary and Nadia. It would give Christopher the legitimacy of my name, too--if you wanted."

"John, I..." Rose didn’t know what to say. She had lived with him for four years, had cared for his children--but she didn’t love him in the way he deserved, in the way she had vowed she would love the man she married. She liked him, respected him--but she didn’t love him. She wasn’t ready to love again, even four years after Jack’s death. She wasn’t ready to make the decision to settle down, to stay with anyone for the rest of her life. It would be easy to marry John, and her life would be stable and serene. There would be no struggle, no worry over where the next meal was coming from, or if she had the resources to give her son what he needed.

It would be easy, but it wouldn’t be right. John would be happy with her for a while, and she might even be content with him for a time, but eventually they would come to despise each other. She wasn’t ready to be tied down, and he needed a wife who could truly commit herself to him, as Miriam had. Maybe one day she would be ready to settle down, and marry, and have more children, but not yet.

"I can’t," she told him, looking down. "I’m just...I’m not ready to settle down, to marry. I..."

"You would still be able to do the things you want," he assured her. "Establish your own career, travel...anything you want to do."

Rose shook her head. It sounded so tempting...the ability to do the things she wanted, without having to worry about what the future would hold--but it wouldn’t be right. John was a good man, and she couldn’t use him that way. If she were to marry him now, it would be no different than if she had married Cal--she would be marrying him for what he could give her, not because she loved him. It wouldn’t be fair to either of them, or to the children who would be caught in the middle.

"No, John." She spoke softly. "It wouldn’t be right. I...I don’t love you--not in the way you deserve. I’m not ready to...to love again, to marry anyone. I need to strike out on my own, to see if I can do it, whatever the consequences. Maybe someday, I’ll be ready--but not now. I would wind up hurting you, and I don’t want to do that. You’re a good man, and you deserve better than that." She stood, untying her apron and draping it over the chair.

"Rose..."

"I’m sorry, John. I don’t want to hurt you, and someday you’ll see that I was right." She turned to leave the kitchen, then turned back for a moment. "I will stay until Nadia starts school--long enough to let the girls understand why I’m leaving, and that it has nothing to do with them--or with you. I...I promise to keep in touch, to write often. If I am nearby, I will visit...but I have to move on. I can’t stay where I am, and never know if it was the right thing to do or not. No matter what happened, I would always wonder if I should have gone my own way, and I would wind up taking it out on you and the children." She turned to leave again.

"Rose."

She glanced back at John.

"If things don’t work out, if you ever need help, I’ll be here. You can come back any time, if you need to."

Rose nodded. "Thank you, John. I’ll remember that, and...I hope that life goes well for you, that you succeed in your work--and that you find a woman who will be right for you, who can give you the love you deserve."

With that, she walked out of the kitchen, closing the door quietly behind her, her mind full of thoughts of the future.

Chapter Twelve
Stories