Once again, Mother had done what Mother does best. Trying to control Roses' actions. She signalled at Roses' cigarette, silently telling her to put it out. Like a dragon, defending her fortress, she blew a cloud of grey smoke onto her mother's face in rebellion. However, Cal took matters into his own hands, taking the cigarette from her and snubbing it out into the ashtray. Cal didn't try to control Rose, he DID control her, and she hated it.
"We'll both have the lamb… rare, with very little mint sauce." Only when he had finished and the waiter was gone did he turn to Rose and ask, "You like lamb, right sweet pea?"
She smiled falsely, not in the mood for arguing, trying to keep her cool. Truth be told, she detested lamb.
Molly of course, could always be counted upon, "Are you gonna cut her meat for her too there Cal?" she chuckled, but the laughter faded to nothingness when she saw that Cal was not impressed. She quickly changed the subject to avoid any awkward silences or confrontations, "So uh… who thought of the name Titanic? . . . was it you Bruce?" she grinned at the pompous man, who was seated at the head of the table like a King.
He wasted no time in replying, "Well yes actually." Thomas sniggered to himself at the sight of seeing Ismay's ego inflate even more. "I wanted to convey sheer size, and size means stability, luxury, and above all, strength!" he straightened his posture proudly when he finished.
Rose however, found his personality unbearable. He knew he had created an immense spectacle, and he wasn't modest about it in the slightest. Thomas Andrews, the designer of this very ship, is so modest and reserved that no one at this table knew he had done such a thing until he told them. She couldn't bite her tongue any longer. "Have you heard of Doctor Freud Mr Ismay?" he shook his head, and she continued. "His ideas about the male preoccupation with size might be of particular interest to you."
Molly opened her mouth in shock, but a wide smile spread across those plump rosy cheeks of hers. Ruth swallowed the lump in her throat when she saw Ismay shrink into his chair, flabbergasted. Cal rolled his eyes, used to his fiery red heads even more fiery temper. And Thomas, he almost choked on a grape as he laughed to himself. Rose was a feisty character… and he loved it.
Ruth whispered to her daughter angrily, "What has gotten into you?"
"Excuse me." She stood from her seat, knowing that she had made quite a mistake, but there's only so long that someone can be treat like a door mat before they react. She may have taken her anger out on the wrong person, but confronting Cal was something she had learned not to do… the bruises on her arms proved that all too well.
"She a pistol Cal. Hope you can handle her." Molly watched the young girl leave the Café, disappearing into a blur of sunlight out on the boat deck.
Cal kept his back turned away from his wife to be, trying to keep himself level headed. "Well I may just have to start minding what she reads from now on, wont I miss Brown."
Ismay was still in shock, looking rather pale. "Who is this 'Freud'… is he a passenger?"
Rose walked over to a railing, overlooking the poop deck. She wondered if it was called that because that's where the 3rd class passengers occupied during the day. A very base thought on Roses' behalf, but it was a valid point. She had tried to go down there earlier that day, but was forbidden by one of the ships officers. Something about, "lice and pick pockets" he said. Rose innocently replied, "But this dress has no pockets to pick from."
Just then, as she looked out over the miles of rolling blue ocean, she felt as if she was being watched. Glancing down to her left, she saw three men, conversing, but the man in the middle was no longer talking, and instead was staring up at Rose. She looked away, feeling the uncomfortable feeling of catching eyes with someone who is staring at you. A moment or two passed, and she looked down again. The tanned teen with the long dirty blonde hair and brown shirt was still staring. "How rude." Rose thought to herself. "Probably deciding if I'm worth robbing or not."
And then, the sound of footsteps made her turn. It was Cal, marching out of the Palm Court Café like a bull exiting a china shop. "What was that exactly?"
"The truth! Mr Ismay an arrogant-"
He cut his bride-to-be off, "Mr Ismay is the man who envisioned this ship… you should be a little bit more grateful."
"It's not as if he bought our boarding tickets." Rose turned away from him, watching the ocean again.
"No, he didn't… I did!"
"So you would like me to treat you with respect?"
"It's the least you could do for the man you love." He tried to sound like he believed what he had said, but even he knew she didn't love him.
"Well, Cal… love is a two way street…" she began to walk away from him before finishing, "I'll meet you halfway." And then she was gone, vanished into the Café again. The sea air had cooled her head, but her heart was burning still. Cal clenched his fists, gritted his teeth and kicked the wooden planks of the boat deck floor… "Better the floor than her." He thought.
Rose took her seat next to her mother, luckily avoiding any awkwardness, as the group was once again in the midst of conversation.
"We MUST win that Blue Ribbon for the fastest transatlantic crossing, and I believe we can! Titanic has the ability to. The press knows the size of Titanic, now I want them to marvel at her speed. We must give them something new to print!" Said Ismay enthusiastically.
"Well, Bruce, why don't we send them another photograph of your face. I'm sure they'll be happy to print that, as would you!" Thomas replied cheekily, winking one of those perfect brown eyes. Rose laughed out loud, which caught his attention. She had the most adorable laugh he had heard. "Although I'm sure they'd want a more… attractive face, on their front page." He added, glancing over at Rose as he said this. Rose took the hint, and blushed yet again.
After that, Molly, Ruth and Ismay got wrapped up in a heated debate about why men call ships "she." Molly's guess was delightful as ever. "Is it because all the woman in this joint have big sterns and should be weighed in tonnage?" Hysterical laughter broke out among them all… all except Rose and Thomas, who sat across the table from one another, having their own, hushed conversation.
"Is everything alright, young Rose?" he sounded genuinely interested and caring.
"Yes… everything's fine… I'm just, feeling a bit under the weather, that's all."
"Well then I'll have to bring you back on top, won't I?" Thomas gave one of his trademark winks over to Rose as he placed a grape into his mouth. Rose watched his tongue caress the fruit and his lips close around it. Those perfectly pink lips. "I suspect you're just homesick. Once you're back in Philadelphia you'll be feeling much better."
At that moment, Cal entered the room, prompting Rose to say, "I doubt it very much."
Thomas could sense the lack of chemistry between Cal and Rose… the lack of communication, of love, even friendship… it wasn't a normal relationship… and he could tell that the beautiful Rose was withering in the dark… so he felt it was his duty to bring the sun back into her life… he was a builder, fixing things is what he did best.
