ROSE'S SENSE
Chapter Three
August 1912
Philadelphia
Rose was right. Ruth did survive, although
their relationship had deteriorated to the point that they never spoke to each
other, and avoided each other whenever possible, to the point that they did not
even take meals together. Rose was disturbed by this, but kept her peace. Her
mother had been distant since the sinking, and Rose could only assume that her
bitterness over Rose’s relationship with Jack was responsible.
Still, Rose enjoyed a sort of freedom that
she had never had before. Ruth had let all but one of the servants go, so there
was no one to watch where Rose went. Rose wandered freely through the city,
visiting museums, parks, and libraries. No longer burdened by the strictures of
the upper class, she pursued her own interests, exploring at will and keeping
whatever hours she wanted.
Despite her newfound freedom, however, she
was often lonely. Few people paid much attention to her, and without money, she
could not visit any of the places she had frequented before. None of her old
acquaintances contacted her, and she would have had little in common with them
if she had. The servants that she had once known were gone, scattered to other
employers, and Rose’s life, in spite of her freedom, was largely devoid of
human interaction.
There was one exception to this, however.
Mabel, the servant that Ruth had retained, was friendly toward Rose, often
engaging in long conversations after Ruth had retired for the night. Mabel
worked hard, doing the cooking, cleaning, and acting as a ladies’ maid, which
was why Ruth had kept her on. There was little time to talk during the day, but
at night they often chatted over a cup of tea. Rose valued Mabel’s friendship,
despite Mabel’s rather flighty nature.
Mabel was sixteen years old, and usually a
steady, easy-going girl, but Rose also noticed a tendency to jump at shadows,
and had on one occasion witnessed Mabel standing in the front yard carrying on
an intense conversation with herself. Mabel regarded both Ruth and Rose
nervously, and would jump up with a guilty look on her face if Ruth entered the
room while she was talking to Rose. Rose wondered if she had been forbidden to
talk to her, but Ruth never said anything, just got what she was after and
left.
Sometimes on Sunday afternoons Rose and Mabel
would walk through downtown Philadelphia, window-shopping or walking in a park.
Mabel was unusually quiet on these days, and more inclined than ever to jump at
shadows. Once she shouted loudly at someone visible only to her, and Rose began
to question her friend’s sanity. She wondered what Dr. Freud would have thought
of Mabel.
One Sunday afternoon late in August, Rose and
Mabel were walking through a park in a middle class part of the city. There was
an art show going on, and Rose was intrigued.
Walking through the displays, Rose observed
that they were from local artists. Much of the work was amateur, but a few
works looked professional. Rose slowed when she reached a row of drawings.
There were pictures of all sorts of different
things, but Rose honed in on the drawings of people. It was unlikely, of
course, that Jack was in Philadelphia, but she couldn’t help hoping. And then,
at the end of the row, she saw them.
A series of drawings of ordinary people, but
they looked extraordinary when rendered by this artist. She examined them
closely, noting the signature in the corner of each drawing: JD.
Rose would recognize this work anywhere. As
she looked at the last drawing, she recognized the Titanic. Two figures stood
at the bow, flying as they had that last evening.
Jack was in Philadelphia. The only
problem was finding him.
Rose looked around. Most of the artists whose
work was on display were present; it was likely that Jack was too. She pointed
out the drawings to Mabel.
"He’s here! I know it! Now I just have
to find him."
Mabel hesitated, looking at Rose with an
expression that she did not understand. Finally, she nodded, almost to herself.
"Go ahead."
Rose hurried through the crowd, searching.
She was almost ready to give up when she saw him.
Jack was standing under a tree a little way
away from the crowd, talking to a middle-aged man in a suit. He was looking
through his portfolio, pulling out an occasional drawing to show him. The man
looked over the drawings critically, nodding his head. He said something to
Jack that Rose couldn’t hear. Jack looked hesitant for a moment, then shook his
head. Rose moved closer, curious. The man pulled out a business card and handed
it to Jack.
Rose heard only the end of the conversation.
"The offer’s open any time," the businessman said, walking away. Jack
looked at the card and tucked it inside his portfolio for safekeeping.
Rose walked toward him, suddenly nervous. She
hadn’t seen him since she had left with Cal four months earlier. A lot had
changed since then. Mabel followed her.
"Jack!" Rose called, but he was
already disappearing into the crowd. She hurried after him. Mabel rushed after
her, the odd expression still on her face.
Rose followed Jack to where his drawings were
hanging--just as a pretty dark-haired girl stepped from the crowd and hurried
toward him. Jack showed her the business card and she grinned and threw her
arms around him. Jack hugged her back, but his mind was obviously elsewhere.
Rose stopped, staring at them in shock, her
mouth hanging open. Mabel came up beside her.
"That...that dirty, two-timing gutter rat!"
Rose was almost at a loss for words.
"You couldn’t expect him to wait for
someone who married somebody else."
"But I didn’t marry Cal!"
"Does he know that?"
"He should! It was undoubtedly in the
society column."
"Maybe he doesn’t read the society
column." Mabel looked at her pityingly, still wearing the odd expression
from earlier. "Leave it alone, Rose."
Her last words had been audible to Jack and
the girl. Jack looked at Mabel, startled. Mabel smiled sheepishly and steered
Rose away from the scene.
Rose was still angry. "He could have at
least contacted me!"
"Maybe he didn’t know how."
Rose whirled around, glowering at her.
"What do you mean, maybe he didn’t know how? We have a telephone, and he’s
perfectly capable of writing a letter!"
"Would anyone have told you if he
had?"
"Probably not," Rose admitted.
"Mother doesn’t like him." She brightened. "Maybe he did try to
contact me and I just never knew it!"
Mabel shook her head. "Rose, don’t. You
saw him in the park; he’s with that other girl now. You need to leave it
alone."
"No, I..." She trailed off,
realizing the wisdom of Mabel’s words. Jack had seen her, and had made no move
to approach her or even acknowledge her presence. She should have found a way
of contacting him on the Carpathia. There was nothing she could do now.
"You’re right," she admitted, not
seeing the relieved look on Mabel’s face. Jack had moved on with life; it was
time for her to do the same.