CHAPTER 10: Confrontation

Rose did not wake up until eleven o'clock the next morning; Gem had let her sleep. Sunlight spilled through her window, resting on her desk, chair, and walls, and casting stripes of light on her bed. The aroma of coffee brewing filled Rose's nose, and she inhaled deeply, breathing in the tantalizing smell. Gem rushed by her door on her way to get something from her and Peter's room, and stopped on her way back.

"Oh, good, you're awake! How did you sleep? Are you feeling better?" She asked, not giving Rose any time to answer the questions. "Come downstairs when you're dressed, won't you?" She smiled warmly at Rose and carefully made her way down the stairs, balancing a stack of extra plates on her hip. It must be a busy morning, Rose thought.

Everything felt normal, everything felt good. Rose took a deep breath and glanced around her room. It was a beautiful day, and everything was as it should be, she thought. She smiled, and that's when she felt the odd tightness on her skin from the dried tears that still lingered on her face. Everything came crashing down on her in that moment. The pregnancy, Sam's half shocked, half saddened face, Aiden coming in to talk to her…the weight of the previous day was almost too great to bear.

But Rose had made a promise to stay strong. She had had enough of crying, enough of feeling like a burden to the Calverts. She had to keep her head up. She sat up straight, got out of bed and slid a thin, comfortable dress on over her head. As summer approached, it was beginning to get warmer; the pale yellow frock would be perfect. Rose shook out her hair and gently ran a brush given to her by Gem through her unruly red curls, calming the tangled mess that was her hair. She looked at herself in the mirror and wiped last night's tears from her eyes.

She stopped at the foot of the stairs and drew in a deep breath before walking into the restaurant area. Then she strode over to her usual working spot at the bar with what she hoped was a confident air. Sam looked up at her as she walked around behind the counter; and they met eyes for a second before he looked away.

Tentatively, Rose cleared her throat and spoke. "Good morning, Sam." She said, straightening up to give him the impression that she wasn't afraid. Inside, her heart pounded as she waited for a response.

"Morning." He responded flatly. He bent to pick up a glass from the shelf under the counter, and his hair fell in front of his face, shielding his eyes from Rose.

"It's busy today," Rose tried again. "I don't think we've had this many people, at least not that I've seen."

"I guess so."

A man in a faded gray jacket came to the bar and Sam went to take his order. Rose heard him ask for a cup of black coffee and immediately began preparing it, as she always did while Sam took orders. Then Sam came up behind her. "I'll do it, Rose." He said shortly, and Rose quickly withdrew her hands, stung. She watched while Sam made the man his coffee with a mixture of hurt and annoyance. Why was he treating her like this?

After the man had paid for his drink and went to sit down, Rose approached Sam. "Sam, we have to talk."

"Later, Rose, people are about to start coming in for lunch." He said without making eye contact. But Rose had made up her mind.

"No. We are going to talk now." She led him outside, ignoring his objections. Once they were outside the restaurant, she turned to face Sam, hands on her hips.

"What the hell, Rose?" he exclaimed, backing away from her.

"What is wrong with you?" she asked. "Do you realize how rude you were to me just now? Everything you've said this morning has been curt, or short, or brusque. Why won't you just speak to me normally?"

Sam made a sound that was a cross between a sniff and a cruel laugh. "I'm being rude? You're the one who dragged me out into the street by my shirt sleeve!"

"Sam, we both know what it is that's making you act this way. My question is why."

"Why? You actually have to ask why?" he said, clearly angry. "You came into our home with nothing more than a soggy coat and dress on your back, and we took you in without a second thought. I showed you around the city, helped you. Rose, we—" He lowered his voice and leaned closer to her, but his eyes weren't smiling like they used to. "We kissed. And then, then you come back from the doctor saying you're pregnant? And you won't even tell us who the father is? It just doesn't work that way, Rose. I can't believe you would fool me like that."

Rose's jaw dropped at his last comment, and had trouble containing herself. "Fool you? Fool you? This is absurd! Sam, I had no idea about this baby! If I had, I would have told you, all of you, right away! This is just as difficult for me as it is for you, if not more so. How do you think I feel? Did you even consider that?"

Rose looked around and saw that an elderly couple on the street had been startled by their argument and stopped walking to stare at them. Rose didn't care; in fact, she barely noticed.

Sam did not pay them any mind either. "I want to believe you, Rose, I really do." He ran a hand through his brown hair, messing it up even more. "But this isn't the first thing you've been secretive about. You didn't even tell us about these 'mysterious symptoms' you've apparently been having, and I saw that newspaper article about you "dying" on the ship. Who are you, Rose?"

Rose spoke quietly, but her words sounded almost venomous. "Who am I? My name, Samuel Calvert, is Rose Dawson. I am the girl who you took pity on a month and a half ago when I needed shelter. I am the girl you took out for Italian food not even a week ago, and I am the girl who you kissed." She said emphatically. When she spoke again, her voice softened. "All that time, when we went to the dock, and when we talked, and laughed, I did not have any idea I was pregnant. It's clear now that I am, but I swear on my life that I didn't know until yesterday."

She looked at Sam pleadingly, willing him to believe her, willing him to understand.

"How did it happen, then? You tell me, Rose. Why are you pregnant?" he asked. Rose could tell that he believed what she had said so far, but he still wanted answers that she wasn't willing to give.

"I think you know how women conceive children, Sam." She said, looking away and trying to avoid the actual question.

"Fine. Don't tell me." Sam said, and Rose could hear the distaste in his voice. Rose's shoulders drooped as he turned to go inside.

"Sam, wait!" She called. He turned around and she went to him, taking his hand. She knew it was a dangerous move, but she had to restore his trust in her. She didn't want to lie to him, but she could not bring herself to tell him about Jack. "I—I made a mistake." Just hearing herself say those words disgusted her. Being with Jack had been anything but a mistake; they knew exactly what they were doing. "I was foolish, and, well, that's how it happened." She looked down at the ground, hating herself for dishonoring Jack, and hating the fact that she had to lie.

Sam cupped her chin, turned her head toward him and looked her straight in the eye. "Is that the truth?" He asked.

No, Rose thought.

"Yes." she said. As much as she hated lying to him, she somehow felt it wasn't right to tell him about Jack.

"Alright, Rose. I believe you." Before she could open her mouth to respond, he pulled her into a tight one-armed hug and held her. "We're going to get through this, Rose. It's going to be okay, you hear? Don't worry." He said, his voice taking on the caring tone she knew so well.

How long they stayed outside Rose did not know, until Gem came outside.

"Oh! There you are, you two! Come on, back to work! There's a line forming, you know." She hurried back inside, Sam and Rose following quickly.

Sam smiled and handed Rose a notepad to take orders on. She let out a sigh, glad to have the Sam she knew back.