ROSE GOES ON
Chapter Five

May 10, 1912

Rose continued her job search that afternoon and the next day. In spite of the fact that she now had some work experience, she was still unable to find another job. It was with a sense of urgency that she walked from place to place, trying to find employment. She didn’t have the luxury of being out of work for weeks. Her situation was too precarious.

At the end of the long, fruitless day of job searching, Rose was walking tiredly back in the direction of her boarding house. She was hungry, but wasn’t sure she should spend the money for some extra food. She had been living on two meals a day, and that would have to suffice until she found a job that paid enough for her to live on.

Lost in thought, she made her way down the steps of the soot-streaked factory building she had asked for work at. The factory had been understaffed, but they wanted people with more experience than her, even though she had assured them that she learned very quickly and wouldn’t slow things down. Their answer had still been the same.

What was she going to do? She couldn’t go back to the sweatshop she had quit, and it wouldn’t have paid enough to cover her few expenses. She could always try working for another sweatshop, but she knew that she didn’t have the stamina to keep up with the work, or the tolerance to put up with slave-driving bosses. But she had to do something, and soon.

Her eyes turned downward, Rose didn’t notice the man walking quickly along the sidewalk until she collided with him, almost falling. He quickly reached to steady her.

"Excuse me," he told her.

Rose quickly pulled away from him, stepping back. "Don’t worry about it. It was my fault." She looked at him, recognition dawning.

He nodded, recognizing her as well. "Miss Dawson. We meet again."

"Please, call me Rose."

"All right. If you will call me John." John Calvert put a steadying hand on her arm.

"John."

"What are you doing in this neighborhood?" he asked, looking at her curiously.

Rose sighed, a downhearted look appearing on her face. "I’m looking for work. But what I always hear is that I’m too well-educated, and don’t have enough skills." She shook her head, confused. "That doesn’t make sense."

"They’re probably afraid they’ll have to pay you decent wages if you’re educated. What kind of work are you looking for?"

"Any kind of work, so long as it doesn’t take me back to my old life. I’ve tried factories, department stores, offices--so far, no luck." Except for the sweatshop job, she thought, but didn’t mention it.

His eyes brightened suddenly. "Have you ever considered caring for children?"

"I’ve thought about it, but being a nanny or a governess is likely to bring me into contact with...people I knew before." And that, she thought, is a worse proposition than working in a sweatshop.

"If you worked for a rich family, yes, but...I need someone to care for Mary and Nadia while I work. I could pay you three dollars a week, plus room and board. I know it isn’t much, but..."

Rose looked at him suspiciously. What else did he want from this ‘arrangement’? To be sure, he had behaved like a gentleman the night they had shared a hotel room, but she really didn’t know him well, and there was no telling what else he might have in mind.

"And you would only be expecting me to care for the children, not anything else?"

"Well, if you could help with the cooking and cleaning, that wouldn’t hurt."

"And you wouldn’t be expecting any other ‘benefits’ from this arrangement, would you?"

John sighed, looking at her. "You are suspicious. No, no other ‘benefits’. You’d share a room with the children, and it would be strictly business."

Rose looked down, thinking. Of course she was suspicious, especially after her experience with the foreman in the sweatshop, but he seemed sincere in his words that the arrangement would be strictly business. And she highly doubted he would come into the room where the children were sleeping and attack her. From what little she knew of him, he seemed to be decent. Of course, Cal had seemed decent at first, too, but John wasn’t Cal.

She thought about the two little girls she would be in charge of. Mary and Nadia were sweet, and they liked her, even though Nadia had never said a word to her. But then, Nadia didn’t speak English, so it could simply have been that she didn’t know what to say. And she did need the money. Three dollars a week wasn’t much--the sweatshop had paid better--but this job would include room and board, and she would much rather care for the toddlers than sew dresses.

"All right," she told him at last. "I’ll take it. Just let me stop by the boarding house and get my belongings."

He nodded. "Where are you living?"

"Just a few blocks from here." She told him the location of the boarding house.

"That’s about three blocks from my apartment. I’ll help you carry your things."

The walk to the boarding house went quickly. Rose hurried upstairs to her room, packing her few belongings into the shopping bags she had gotten from the stores she had bought most of them at. Tucking the Heart of the Ocean into the bodice of her dress, she hurried downstairs to return her key.

"Moving already?" her landlady asked her. People came and went, but not usually so quickly.

"I’ve found work in another neighborhood," Rose explained, handing over the key to her room.

The landlady took the key. "I can’t refund you the rest of this month’s rent, you know."

Rose sighed. "I need to take this job now, before someone else gets it. I guess you have a little extra profit this month on that room."

"If I can find another boarder."

"You have a few weeks before it stands empty and unpaid for. I have to be going." Rose picked up her bags and headed out the front door to where John was waiting.

The landlady followed her, watching as John took one of her bags and started down the street. "Huh. New job, I’m sure," she grumbled to herself, watching Rose walk away with the strange young man, who didn’t look to have enough money to hire anyone.

About fifteen minutes later, John and Rose arrived at his apartment building. It was an immigrant tenement, though larger and not so run down as many. John told her the number of his apartment, on the third floor, and she hurried to put her things away before he brought the girls back from the teenager he had left them with that day.

As the door opened, she stepped out of the room she would share with the children. There were only two small beds, so she would have to sleep on the floor at first, but at least she had a home and a job.

Mary squealed in joy as Rose stepped from the room, running toward her with a now much-larger Allegro at her heels. The dog yipped in greeting and wagged his tail so hard his whole body switched.

"Aunt Wosie!" Mary ran up to Rose and tugged on her skirt. "You stay dinner?"

"Actually, Mary, I’m going to stay a lot longer than that--your Daddy has hired me to take care of you and Nadia while he goes to work during the day. I live here now." Rose smiled at the exuberant child.

Mary’s eyes widened. "You do? You our Mommy, now?"

"No, Mary, I’m not going to be your Mommy, but you can keep calling me Aunt Rosie. I’m going to stay with you now."

Mary jumped up and down, tripping and almost falling before Rose caught her and swung her up into the air, giggling. Nadia just watched them, her thumb in her mouth.

Rose set Mary down and knelt down to look at Nadia. "Do you remember me, Nadia?"

Nadia stared at her uncomprehendingly. John spoke up.

"She doesn’t speak English yet. In fact, she hasn’t spoken at all since we last met."

Rose looked at Nadia in concern, wondering if the child might be deaf. "Did she ever speak before that?"

"On the ship. From what Miriam told me, Nadia saw her mother crushed under a falling smokestack, and that may be why she doesn’t speak."

Rose looked at the toddler sympathetically. Nadia stared back, her eyes wide and frightened.

"Poor thing." She pointed to herself. "Aunt Rosie." Pointing to the little girl, she added, "Nadia." Smiling, she waited for a response.

Nadia took her thumb out of her mouth, but didn’t make a sound. Still staring at Rose, she crept over to John and wrapped her arms around his legs.

Rose sighed. "All right, Nadia. You’ll get used to me eventually. Shall I make dinner?"

"I help," Mary volunteered, toddling toward the cooking area. Nadia finally let go of John’s legs and crept after Mary.

"I’ll show you where I keep things." John gestured in the direction the toddlers had headed.

While Rose cooked dinner, with John’s help, she allowed Mary to set the table. The little girl kept up a running dialogue about what she had done that day, frequently mixing up the day’s activities with the previous day’s, and even the previous week’s. At age two, Mary didn’t quite comprehend the concept of time. Nadia followed them around silently, still fearful of Rose and afraid to let either John or Mary out of her sight.

Rose was grateful for the weeks on her own that had taught her a few important skills. Her cooking skills were still meager, but with John’s help she managed to put together a reasonably good meal. Mary darted back and forth between the small table and the stove as Rose worked, complaining that she was hungry. John finally sat the two children at the table on top of stacks of discarded newspapers, giving each a cracker to tide them over until dinner.

As they sat down to eat, Rose gave John a reassuring smile, telling him that he wouldn’t have to worry about the children anymore, that she could take care of them. Inside, though, she wasn’t sure she was up to the task. Mary she could handle, she knew, but it was frightened, silent Nadia whose care she wasn’t sure she could handle.

Chapter Six
Stories