TITANIC ROSE
Chapter Twenty
"What do you mean the baby's coming
now?" Ruth asked in a panic, almost pushing Rose onto the bed. "And
you didn't say anything?"
"I thought--I thought--"
"Don't think anymore!" Ruth yelled.
Thomas was outside, pacing the hall. Rose had been having contractions for
almost thirty minutes now, and hadn't said a word. "Look, just lay there
and do what I tell you to do."
"Sounds like my childhood, Mother."
Rose sighed. "Always just sitting there and listening to what you have to
say."
"Well, if you don't do it this time, you
and your baby are going to die!"
Rose was stunned by her mother's harsh words,
and leaned against the backboard. "It hurts so much. I think I'll just
explode if the pain doesn't stop."
Ruth placed a few towels at the foot of the
bed. "These will come in handy." Rose winced in pain as another
contraction came and passed.
"Now, I'm going to need you to
push," Ruth said.
"You are going to need me to push?"
Rose asked. "No, I think I'm going to need me to push."
"Just do it." Ruth sighed.
*****
Rose awoke from her slumber, sore and still
tired. Thomas lay next to her, holding her hand. "We thought we'd lost
you," he said.
"What?"
"You fainted on us," Thomas
explained, kissing her hand. "That is, after the baby was born."
"Oh, the baby. What is it?"
"It's a boy," Thomas proudly
answered. "And he's sleeping downstairs. Your mother has taken care of him
all day for you."
"I'm not so sure that's a good
thing," Rose stated. "But, anyway, please bring him upstairs. I'd
love to hold him."
"Are you strong enough?"
"Perfectly. Just sore. Has the doctor
been here yet?"
"A few hours ago. He said everything is
well."
"Thank God."
The little boy was carried to the room by
Ruth, who was happy to show off her grandson. "He's the cutest little
thing," she cooed.
Rose took her son in her arms, looking at his
little cherubic features. At only a few hours old, he had a full head of deep
brown hair, just like his father. And, indeed, he was the cutest little thing.
"And to think he caused so much
pain." Rose laughed. "This--this tiny--baby."
"It's a shame you don't have a name
yet," Ruth commented.
"Oh, but I do," Rose replied with a
smirk. "Myrtle and I have come up with such wonderful names for our
babies. When she had Emily Elaine, I firmly decided what the names would be for
a boy and girl. And since it is a strapping young boy, his name is
Andrew."
Ruth stepped back. "You named him after
your father?"
"It was fitting and convenient, wasn't
it? I miss Daddy so much, so my child will be his namesake."
The act touched Ruth's heart in a way, but it
is hard to change once you are set in your ways. Every time she would look at
that little baby, she would only remember her husband and cry.
Rose handed Andrew to Thomas, who held him
with care. "I've never really been around babies before. All my brothers
and sisters were older than me."
"It's time you learned, then," Ruth
told him. "But it looks as though you're doing fine."
"Mother, please send word to the
Sinclairs about my baby, will you? I know Myrtle has been anxious for him to be
born so our children could be playmates."
"They're too young to be playmates,
dear." Ruth pulled Andrew away from her daughter, Rose still grasping for
him. "Now, you rest, and I'll go put Andrew in his crib to sleep. It's
getting late, and babies sleep very much."
"But, Mother, I--"
"Let me handle this," Ruth snapped.
Rose recoiled into Thomas' arms and lay her head against his shoulder.
"We need to send her away, Thomas. Now
or never. She'll try to raise him, and tell me what to do and say that
everything I'm doing is wrong."
"Let her be for now. She'll get over it,
and soon everything will be back to normal."
"Thomas, we have a son. Nothing will
ever be normal again!"
*****
"Oh, isn't he darling?" Myrtle
asked, tickling the sides of the newborn Andrew. Rose was up and about again,
and had invited Myrtle over with baby Emily.
Myrtle looked fabulous for a new mother, and
was already down to her original size. She wore a flowing white dress, her
blonde hair pulled back in a French twist. In her arms lay Emily Elaine.
"Let's get them married," Myrtle
suggested. "Or set them up now so that they can never love anyone but each
other."
"Where do you get your ideas?" Rose
asked with a laugh, giving Andrew a bottle and holding him up.
"It's how everyone used to do
things," Myrtle replied, holding a toy over Emily. The baby kept reaching
for it, and falling back again.
"Your daughter is older than my
son," Rose teased. "Maybe he wouldn't like that when he seeks a girl
for marriage."
"Oh, well. I do hope Emily is pretty
when she grows up. I want her to be popular with her peers, and have young boys
fawning over her."
"Why?"
"There was a girl in my school growing
up who was teased to no end for her looks, Rose. She never married."
"Are you sure it was only because she
wasn't gorgeous? Everybody has something beautiful in them."
"Well, she did punch a boy in the face,
once. Perhaps that's why they stayed away. And maybe now she’s married, for I
haven't seen her in years."
"See? Anyhow, I want Andrew to be
handsome. Just because. No other reason."
"You will have the handsomest family in
town, Rose. With you and Thomas' good looks, your genes will certainly be
passed to your children."
"As long as they all have ten fingers
and ten toes, I'll be happy."
"Me, too. I want to have hundreds of
children, but for now, only one is fine."
"Andrew kept us awake all night. He just
kept crying and crying."
"Babies want their mothers
constantly," Myrtle said. "All the time, if I'm not around, Emily wails
for me."
"Andrew, as well. But he has also taken
to Thomas and my mother. And we haven't been around many strangers to notice
how he acts around them."
"He seems to be a good baby, Rose.
Children are a blessing."