Come Fly With Me
By Princess454
**
When I saw him for the first time, his hair was a mess and his hands were awfully dirty. I was eight years old. I sat obediently in the church pew, my freshly made curls sitting perfectly atop my shoulders. My mother sat next to me, looking up at the priest speaking as if it was just the two of them talking. Naturally my eight year old mind got bored, and that's when I noticed the dirty little boy sitting in the pew across the aisle from me. He wouldn't sit still and his poor mother tried the best she could to keep him from standing up and wandering around. He noticed me staring and waved; I turned my eyes away and looked forward.
When mass ended I saw the mother with her dirty little boy walking in front of us. The mother seemed older than mine, but maybe it was because she looked worried. I'd be too if I had to look after that little monster. The boy's clothes were just as dirty as his hands and I wondered what Momma would say if I even attempted to get out of the house looking like that. Just as that was the first time I saw them, it was the last time I'd see them for a long, long time.
**
1933 was a difficult year around the world. While most were barely eating everyday and the news crackled on the radio that yet another man somewhere in Chicago has jumped off a bridge, my family was doing just fine here in Rochester. It almost seemed like we were living in a different planet than other people.
"My hard work, that's what's got us living under a roof," Father boasted during dinner. "Don't feel too bad about the men on the streets, most of them had it coming."
I disagreed. I couldn't see how Daddy would go to work every day and see the homeless families lining up as early as before the sun rose in front of the soup kitchen for a meal and say those people had it coming. But, I try not to think about it. My parents keep me busy enough as it is, I can't really think about other people.
At the ripe old age of eighteen I was suddenly thrust into a world I was not used to. Sure, I had gotten over playing with dolls and following Momma around all day but it seemed I wasn't quite doing the things I wanted to do anymore. I was home schooled practically all day, then I had piano lessons and singing lessons; by the time that ended there was dinner and then I had maybe an hour or so to myself. Every day was the same.
I treasured lovely afternoons where Momma let me visit my friends from when I had school. There was Vera, Dolly, and Marlene. They were each different in their own way and I loved it. Today was one of those afternoons where Momma let them come over, but of course, knowing Momma, there was always a dual purpose. She had hired an etiquette teacher to implement manners into me and my younger brothers. I guess my friends were included as well.
"You won't be living here much longer, Rose," Momma told me as she swirled the hot rollers out of my hair and let the strands flop gently against me. "If all goes well, you'll be engaged soon and your father and I will be watching you all lovely in your wedding dress-"
"Momma, please," I begged, my eyes rolling. "I don't like talking about this, you know that." I crossed my arms and thought about how my mother seemed to only think about me and my wedding. I'm sure there were other more pressing matters she could attend to.
"I'm sorry, honey. Well your hair looks good, when will the girls be here?" She wondered, fluffing up her own hair and checking her make-up.
"Any minute," I replied and got up off my chair that sat in front of my vanity table. I walked out into the front room and took a seat on the chaise next to the window that faced our street. As a girl I used to love sitting here and watch people.
"I'll start the tea," Momma told me as she glided from my room to the kitchen. I despised tea and knew I wouldn't be actually drinking any; I'd pour it into the fake plant next to my seat in the dining room. My mother was obsessed with following trends and fashions; I suppose the English had started to drink tea again due to the economy and Momma was all about following that trend now.
Soon the girls were over and the etiquette teacher followed shortly after. As I had predicted, all fun had flown out the window. The girls and I took seats at the dining room table as instructed by Momma and the teacher; soon after we were being bossed around as to what to do and how to say things. It was a horrid bother. At one point we were allowed loose conversation—"To only happen should all husbands be out of the room!"—so I used the time to get all the information I could from Vera and her new husband.
"Oh he's just the nicest man," Vera gushed, and having known her all my life I knew Vera was truly happy. Vera was usually shy and extremely humble; but at the mention of her husband, her face lit up bright and ecstatic.
"The wedding was great Vera, I know my family and I had a great time," Dolly let Vera know. We all complimented her on the wedding; Vera's family wasn't terribly wealthy, nor was her husband. The wedding was simple, but most importantly, it was peaceful. I had enjoyed it, personally, but Momma had ruined any peace I had during the wedding by calmly letting me know as we sat in the church that mine would be a lot more extravagant.
I didn't know what the problem was. I watched every second of Vera and her husband's interactions; so slow, so romantic. It was as if they didn't want any of their moments together to end. It was so terribly lovely. If anything, that's what I wanted in my wedding.
"Your hair looked so darling in the wedding!" I heard Marlene exclaim as I emerged back to the present from my thoughts.
"Not as beautiful as Rosalie's," Vera confessed, and smiled over at me. I smiled nervously; I was used to compliments, but I still haven't perfected the best response.
"Thank you Vera, but I must disagree. You looked stunning at your wedding," I replied, knowing that's what any girl would want to hear. Vera's smile grew wider and soon the etiquette teacher returned from where she had been talking to my mother in the kitchen. It seemed loose talk was over.
**
Hours later, I was sitting in bed reading. Dinner had just ended and all I wanted to do was relax. Memories from Vera's wedding kept running through my mind; the event had only been a week ago. Vera seemed so happy in her new home with her new life. I wasn't exactly jealous; her house was a bit too simple, too small. Her husband was a carpenter and I would want mine to be a banker like Daddy, so as he would understand money and business. But her happiness…it seemed so unattainable from where I sat, here, atop my bed listening to the radio crackling from the living room. It seemed my parents were always listening to the radio. I didn't really like it; it was always bad news. I rather not be depressed from other people's troubles. It was as if the radio tried to change the view I had of the world every time, and I wasn't quite ready for that.
Suddenly my mother came in the room and sat atop my bed, smiling at me, her soft hands taking my young ones. "Did you like the etiquette lessons, dear?" She wondered.
"Not really," I confessed, pursing my lips.
"I know but you know what? I had to do it, Grandma had to do it. It's part of everyone's life, sweet heart," Momma explained.
"Vera told me she's never had to do this," I told Momma.
Momma gave me a look that indicated I had said something stupid. "Vera isn't like us. Besides, she's already married and if you don't know the right manners you'll lessen your chance of finding someone."
"Manners have nothing to do with finding a husband, Momma. It has everything to do with love," I replied, and turned over in my bed so as I couldn't look at her. I just wanted to go to sleep and rehearse the words to the song my singing teacher has been teaching me in my head.
"You're eighteen, Rosalie. I'd appreciate it if you started thinking like an adult," Momma told me right before she left the room and closed the door.
I knew my mother knew what was best for me and that she was only trying to help. I just couldn't see why love couldn't be part of the perfect marriage.
**
"He's here!"
Momma swooped to the front door and greeted someone. I was standing in the living room, awaiting their presence. Momma had insisted that I do my hair very well today and that I dress impeccably. I thought today was just going to be an average day, but my mother had other plans. All this talk of weddings and marriage must have gone to her head; it seemed she now felt she had to take the matter of me finding a husband into her own hands.
"We're wasting time having you sit in the house all day. No one is seeing your beauty!" My mother declared a few days prior. She told me it was time I start meeting lots of men just in case I meet the one. I wasn't too fond of the idea; I couldn't just meet someone and know I wanted to marry them! But my mother was making it very important.
"Why the rush?" I asked her one night.
"You know your father works really, really hard," Momma started. I nodded. "But he can't be the sole provider. I have the house to keep and your brothers to take care of. You, my dear, are the time where you have to start your own life. We all love you dearly, but we want to see you out there having fun and living life the way we have always wanted to see you do." Momma ran her hand through my hair and I was starting to believe what she was saying. "Your father and I love giving you everything you want, but it's time you find someone else that can do that for you. You want the finer things in life, don't you?" Momma wondered.
"Yes, more than anything," I replied. At this statement my mind began whirling with thoughts and ideas; me in a big house, decorated to perfection, the most beautiful house anyone has ever seen. Me dressed in high fashion sitting in the garden chair, looking around at all the pretty flowers that grew around the estate. And then the thought of a handsome man coming outside from the backyard doors to greet me, kissing me on the cheek and asking me how my day had went.
"Then make it so that you can have all the things you want," Momma advised. She reached her hand up again but this time not to brush my hair back but to caress my face gently. "Rosalie, you're blessed with beauty. Don't throw away the chance of having a wonderful life."
Momma then decided that I'd been cooped up at home or at school for most of my life and hadn't a clue what to look for in a man; therefore, she was going to seek out some bachelors she approved of for me. I was to meet them and see how things went from there.
"What do I do, Momma?" I had asked right before the first gentleman arrived.
"You just stand there and look pretty. Don't talk too much; be mysterious," Momma replied just before the knock sounded at the front door and she went to answer.
The first man wasn't what I had in mind when I imagined my life in the future. He was older, had a big mustache, and seemed to have started balding. He was too tall as well. These were my first thoughts of Henry Jones.
"Pleased to meet you Miss Hale," Henry said to me as he took my hand and kissed the top of it. "You're everything your mother told me you'd be like and more!"
"Oh, Henry. Please, do join us for some tea?" Momma asked him and we escorted him into the sitting room. Momma went to the kitchen and left Henry and I to sit in the room alone. I was rather uncomfortable and had no idea what to do; it was a good thing Momma said to not talk much, for I had nothing to say.
"Wonderful home," Henry noted suddenly, and I looked up to see him looking around.
"Thank you," I replied, and started to play with the hem of my new dress. Daddy had bought it for me on his way home from work a few days ago; it had polka dots all over and looked just like the dresses I saw some of the more fashion forward ladies from Manhattan wear when they visited the town.
"Here we go," Momma said as she arrived holding a tray adorned with the tea. Once everyone got served and Momma took a seat, the remainder of the meeting consisted mostly of Momma and Henry discussing various matters. I barely spoke a word and wondered instead how long he'd be here for. I had already made my mind as Henry took his first steps into my house; he was to be no husband of mine.
The torturously boring conversation finally ended and Henry claimed he had to attend to some business back at home. "I had a lovely time," Henry told me as he once again kissed my hand and stared up into my eyes; I used every will I had to not roll my eyes in disgust. Henry had stared at me during the hour long session almost without a break and it was an understatement that I was happy he had to go home.
Once Henry was gone I flopped back on the sofa without taking care as to what my posture was like. "Finally!" I sighed.
"That went well. Very well. I feel good about this one," My mother said as she began to pour more tea for herself.
I stared at her as if she had grown another head. "Are you crazy? Henry Jones is the most boring, unattractive man I've ever met. There is no way I'm going to spend my life with him," I let her know.
"Rosalie," Momma scolded and she actually looked mad. "I don't think you understand the gravity of this situation. This is a pivotal time young lady! I'm doing all I can so that you have a life without worry, without stress, without fear." Momma put her tea cup down rather harshly and I stood up in my chair, suddenly guilty. "Henry Jones is a fabulous architect, and he makes a lot of money. Just because he's not appealing visually doesn't mean he won't make a fine husband, and that's what you need to be looking at," Momma finished, and with that she called for our maid to take the tea away. I couldn't stand being yelled at so I decided to go outside and get some fresh air. As I fumed, sitting down on the steps of our stoop, I didn't notice the milk man had arrived to deliver our bottles.
"Excuse me miss?" He said, and I looked up, startled. "Oh, sorry, didn't mean to scare you. Just delivering these," He added, and held up the small metal basket containing four glass bottles of milk.
"I'll take those. Thank you," I told him, and reached for the basket. However, after I took them he still didn't leave. I looked up at him, the sun biting into my eyes, causing me to squint.
"So, what are you so mad about?" The man wanted to know. I almost thought I heard him wrong. What was this man doing, asking me why I was mad? But on close inspection, after he inched forward on his bike and got out of the sun's way, I realized he was actually a young man, a much younger man, close to my age perhaps.
"My mother…she's upset at me, and it's for a dumb reason," I told him, and I looked away down the street and started to watch the passerby and the cars chugging along. I didn't want to keep noticing how nice his arms looked with his plaid shirt's sleeves rolled up to the elbow, and I especially didn't want to keep noticing the friendly smile that made me feel better.
"Parents can be a real drag," The boy agreed; then one of the arms I had been admiring earlier stretched to reach just under my chin. "I'm Emmett McCarty, by the way." The arm had a hand who asked me to grab hold in greeting.
I watched my small, feminine hand become enclosed in his large, manly one. "Pleasure meeting you," I responded, sounding exactly how the etiquette teacher wanted me to sound.
"Well, I have to keep delivering these. I hope I see you later and good luck with your mom," Emmett said, and then with a wink he started on his bike again. I decided I better bring the milk in before I break something, and just as I was about to open the front door Emmett yelled something from the next house. "Hey! I never got your name!" He called.
"Rosalie Hale!" I shouted back then saw that sweet smile flash at me once more before I disappeared inside.
