TITANIC ROSE
Chapter Two
The dusk had fallen over the sky. Rose felt
her heart sink. Jack was gone. No denying the facts now. Looking at the others,
she felt she had experienced nothing compared to them. But she still felt
horrible inside. Tonight they would reach New York, and Rose could grieve
properly. She knew no one, however, who she could go to without anyone
notifying her mother. It was important that her existence remain erased in
history. Perhaps, years from now, she could write to her mother and tell her
she was all right. But it wouldn't be now, not when she could be married to Cal
at any moment.
"May I take your name, luv?" asked
a man. Rose look him up and down. He carried a clipboard and was taking names
of survivors for the papers. She decided what she would do after all. No one
would ever know.
"Dawson. Rose Dawson."
"Thank you, luv." The man walked
away. She stared up at the statue. So full of freedom and promise and hope. A
pillar of strength. Rose was happy to be back in the country she loved. But
without Jack.
"When the ship docks, I’m getting off
with you."
"This is crazy."
"I know. It doesn’t make any sense. That’s
why I trust it."
"Jane?"
"Oh, hello, John," Rose replied.
"There is something I must tell you...about my name."
"I know it's not your real name,"
John started, smiling. "I just wanted to see how long it would take before
you never answered to Jane."
"You are so cruel," Rose joked.
"My name is Rose. Rose Dawson. I'm sorry I wasn't truthful before. It
wasn't right to lie to you."
"That's all right. After all, you don't
know who to trust anymore."
"But I shouldn't have lied. Anyhow,
where are you staying in New York? Do you have any plans now?"
"No." John glanced away.
"Maria and I were supposed to live in a beautiful house here. But I don't
think I really desire it much now."
"Oh. It's a shame."
"Yes. It is. What are you going
to do?"
"Nothing, yet. I have no place to stay
now. I can't ever go back to my mother—my—old life. It would be almost too
dreadful."
"You were in first class?"
"How could you tell?"
"That coat. I saw one like it shopping
with Maria. Quite expensive."
Rose suddenly realized her pocket sagged down
on her one side. She felt the extra weight and placed her hand inside. What she
felt was nothing short of a miracle. She could probably pawn it—or something—to
get money. "I have a necklace that is very gaudy."
"May I see it?"
"I don't know where it is. I think I
left in my—oh—somewhere. I don't know."
"I see."
"I shall live on the streets or in a
hotel until I can find a job or something like that. I can't imagine myself
working. I've never had to do it before. I always had servants. I wish I had
treated them better now. Hindsight is always 20/20."
"It is."
"What will you do with your house?"
Rose asked as she leaned against the railing.
"Sell it. Would you like to stay there
until you get on your feet? There are extra rooms."
"I hardly know you! How can you expect
me to say yes to such an atrocious offer?"
"You're desperate, and I couldn't see
you living on the streets of New York."
"Well, I..." Rose stumbled over her
words. John was right, and it would be convenient. She needed a place to stay
for a while. "I guess I could stay for around a week or so. But I don't
want impose."
"I will meet you when we dock,"
John stated. "I will make sure you get there all right."
"Thank you so much."
"My pleasure."
*****
Rose attempted to comb through her hair with
her fingers. She wanted to look semi-decent as she left Carpathia. She had no
belongings of her own, and wouldn't need to carry much. Perhaps she would offer
to help someone. Hopefully, tips would be involved.
"Miss Dawson?" a woman asked,
coming into the room. "There is a Mr. Wilkes here to see you."
"I'll be right out," Rose replied.
She continued to attempt to fix her hair. She wanted to feel pretty again, like
she did with Jack.
"May I come in?" John asked, when she
didn't come out.
"Oh, I'm sorry, John. I was just
thinking. I guess I've been doing that a lot lately."
"So have we all."
"I guess you're right. It's hard to
concentrate, and my head still pounds. I feel as though I'll never get
warm."
"That water was quite cold."
"Yes."
They remained in silence for a moment,
remembering the night their lives had changed forever. Rose looked beautiful,
even though she was pale and her eyes were red and drooping from exhaustion.
"Are you all right, Rose?"
"Hmm? Oh yes, fine."
"Shall we leave? We're docking
now."
"Yes."
*****
As they made their way off the ship, Rose
realized this was what she should have been doing with Jack. They would have
arrived, jumped off the deck, and celebrated their way into eternity. But not
now. No, it would not be like that.
Mother! Rose gasped silently as she saw her mother on the deck below her. There
were Cal and Molly Brown, as well. They were searching diligently, and Rose
knew she was the object of their search.
"John, could we please hurry out of this—open—space?
I would rather be in more with the crowd. Maybe I'll recognize someone I
met."
After reaching the cool air of the city, John
hailed a cab. Rose could still see Cal and her mother. She watched as her
mother wiped her eyes, and then glanced in their direction. Her eyes widened,
and she began to yell. "Rose! Rose!"
"Get me out of here," Rose
whispered to John as they hurriedly scrambled into the cab.
"Why the rush?"
"Anxiety."
Her mother continued to yell as Cal pulled
her into their cab. Rose breathed a sigh of relief as her cab pulled away from the
docks. So many reporters tried get the passengers' stories. She had refused to
comment to any of them.
*****
The house was large, and was three stories
tall. "You were going to live in this big old place with your little
wife?" Rose asked.
"We wanted many children," John
replied quickly.
Much too quickly, Rose thought.
The noise in the street began to overwhelm
her. Honking horns and shouting from newsies. Clattering of cans in the road
and the wind blowing through trees were loud to her.
"I think I shall lie down when we get
inside, John," Rose said. "I feel ill."
*****
The nausea hit Rose like a punch in the face.
She awoke in the morning and couldn't keep anything down. John was worried for
her, and had a doctor come to the house. Rose felt better by the afternoon when
the doctor came, and was ready for the examination. She was sweating a little
and had a mild temperature, but everything else was perfect.
"Just a chill," Dr. Ferguson said.
"She'll be fine in a few days."
But the next morning, the pattern was the
same, and for a week after that. Sick in the morning, well in the afternoon.
Dr. Ferguson was sent for again.
"Well, Rose," the doctor began,
"do you want children?"
"I—oh—what?"
"You are pregnant.
Congratulations."
"But how?"
"Put your hands on me, Jack."
"Oh, no." Rose placed her head on
the backboard and wanted to cry. It was Jack. His child was inside of her at
this very moment. She could feel him.
"Is something wrong, Rose?" John
asked once the doctor had left.
"John," Rose began, with tears in
her eyes, "I am unwed, and pregnant!"