October 24, 1929
Philadelphia, Pennsylvania
Mastbaum Theatre
Exiting the picture palace with her nine-year-old daughter's arm wrapped around her elbow and an excited four-year-old boy walking backwards describing the movie they had just seen, Rose laughed enjoying her children's happiness.
"I liked the dancing!" James laughed.
"How did those characters dance?" Rose smiled.
James mimicked the silly dance from the cartoon short. He spun around and clicked his booted heels.
Older folks from the same upper class as the Hockley's took notice of the dancing child and smiled in amusement.
"James, people are staring," Grace rolled her eyes, embarrassed by the upper crust adults looking at the dancing child with a smirk. "You're acting a fool."
Cocking her brow, Rose feared her daughter had inherited some of her father's proud, no-nonsense traits.
"He's having fun, darling. Did you not enjoy the picture?" Rose asked, brushing Grace's long dark hair back over her shoulder.
Grace shrugged and held her chin up high, "I much rather see a Greta Garbo picture."
"When have you ever seen a Greta Garbo picture?" Rose let out a laugh. "You're much too young."
Pouting with the annoyance of being 'too young,' Grace folded her arms over her chest and muttered, "Says you."
"Shall we go home and finish making your Halloween costumes?" Rose suggested as she waved her hand for the chauffeur to pick them up.
Grace sneered, "Halloween is for…" she eyed her little brother, "… children. Can we have another grand dinner like last month? So many fabulous people were over. The women's gowns were—"
"—No! It was boring!" James replied before Rose.
Ignoring the insult, Grace ignored her brother and kept her dark eyes on Rose, "Can we, mother?"
"Perhaps another time, my love. We'll have plenty of parties in the future." Rose lovingly patted Grace's cheek.
The chauffeur got out of the dark blue 1929 Pierce-Arrow Model 133 S and walked around the car to open the back door for the mother and children.
"Mama," James looked over his shoulder at Rose as he climbed into the backseat of the vehicle, "can we come back tomorrow?"
"Tomorrow?" Rose smiled, "We'll see."
Scoffing, Grace spun around to her mother, "You always give James whatever he wants!"
"That's not true."
"Yes, it is!" Grace folded her arms and glared at Rose. "You never care what I want!"
Rolling her eyes at the girl's tantrum, Rose stood her ground firmly, "Enough of this silliness Grace. You are much too young for a Greta Garbo picture. Nor are we having another party at this very moment. Now, get into the car and stop whining about."
Seeing it unless to argue with her mother anymore on the topic, Grace grumpily climbed into the car. "You're so mean," Grace grumbled.
Releasing a breath and shaking her head, Rose looked at Mason the chauffeur. He tossed her a sympathetic smile.
"Take us home, Mason." Rose directed the chauffeur as she took his offered hand to help her into the back seat of the car.
"Yes, ma'am," Mason bowed his head and closed the back door then moved back around the car to the driver's seat.
Hockley Residence
Stepping out of the vehicle, a sudden feeling of complete dread washed over Rose. She glanced over her shoulder to the brownstone mansion curious about this feeling swirling at the bottom of her stomach and climbed into her chest.
It was a familiar feeling that she felt before during the night of Titanic's sinking. She and Jack walked hand in hand to confront her mother and her ill-tempered fiancé.
Running past her from the car and up the steps of the home, Grace threw open the door as James followed in tow.
Entering the house, Rose couldn't shake that familiar feeling.
Her dark blue-grey eyes bounced into the parlour, library, dining room, playroom, and found nothing out of the ordinary.
She turned back around towards the front door and eyed the closed wooden door adjacent to it; Cal's Office.
"Is everything okay, Mrs Hockley?" Ellen asked, holding James's hand, who was excited to play wooden cars with her.
"Uh, yes," Rose said, though she felt the total opposite. She looked back into the playroom and said, "Stay in here with the children, please."
Ellen nodded her head, "Yes, ma'am. Oh, James, you want to play. with the cars again?" She continued to play with James as Grace sat at a desk the corner by the window writing her fantasy stories.
Rose began to walk down the hallway when Andrews appeared in the parlour, "Tea, madam?" He asked.
Distracted, Rose nodded her head not hearing the question being asked, "Um… excuse me."
Rose faced the closed office door and wrapped her hand around the doorknob.
Opening the door, letting the natural light illuminate into the dark room filled with smoke and smelled of booze, Rose followed the stream of light to find Cal sitting beside the drink cart staring at the pistol in his hand.
Rose felt the blood drain from her face and the air dissipate from her lungs.
Unable to blink in total disbelief, all Rose could do was stare in horror.
"What are you doing?" She finally found her voice.
Realising for the first time that he was not alone, Cal tore his dark eyes from the pistol and looked at Rose across the way. "Please leave, Rose. I don't want you to see…" his voice was small and it sent a haunting cool shiver down Rose's spine.
Never in her seventeen years of knowing this man had she ever heard his voice in such away.
"No, not until you tell me what in the hell you are doing."
She watched as his chin quivered and a weighted amount of stress landed on his shoulders.
Rose wasn't blind to the fact that within the last few days, Cal had been working much more and he comes home angry and tense. She had tried to talk to him about it but he always refused, not wanting to share his grievances with her. This excuse sparked many arguments in the last four days.
"Just leave, Rose. This is of no concern to you."
Immediately angered by his words, Rose closed the door firmly but not in a slam, which would frighten the children down the hallway.
"Don't you tell me this is of no concern to me. When my husband is sitting in the dark with a half-empty decanter and a pistol in his hand, it then becomes very much my concern." Rose held her hands on her hips standing her ground.
The conflicted sadness in Cal's eyes shifted to anger and impatience. He jumped up to his feet and yelled, "Get out! I don't want you here! Go away!"
It had been a long time since Rose had seen this blazing temper side of Cal. But still unafraid of him, Rose did not move an inch.
"No!" Rose fired back and took a step closer to him. "What are you doing, Cal? Are you going to shoot yourself?" Cal did not reply. "Talk to me!" She pleaded.
Falling back down into the chair, Cal buried his face into his hands. Rose watched as his shoulders gently shook and the sounds of sniffling filled the air.
"I failed," his muttered through his fallen tears.
Growing calmer, Rose eyed her husband with curious worry. She walked closer to him, though she was still very much aware and cautious of the pistol in his hand.
"Failed what?" She asked him gently.
"I lost it." Cal lifted his face from his hands, revealing his tears staining his cheeks. "I lost everything we have except for a few scraps. The investments… The trust funds for the kids… gone…" his tears fell down his cheeks harder, "… We have nothing."
Rose stared at him with a sympathetic gaze. For the last few days, she had read the newspaper headlines about the New York Stock Exchange collapse. She had heard through the grapevine that many of their social acquiesces had been affected by the crash losing almost all of their fortune. But for some odd reason, she didn't think the crash would affect them.
When she didn't respond, Cal gritted his teeth and said, "Did you hear me? We. Have. Nothing."
Snapping herself from her surprised state, Rose crossed the rest of the short distance to him and knelt in front of him. She held his face in her hands and wiped away his fallen tears with the pads of her thumbs. "No, you're wrong. We don't have nothing. You didn't fail me."
"The money is gone… Why would you stay?" Cal felt his heartbreak and his underlying fears set in about his relationship with Rose.
Rose frowned, eyeing him carefully remembering the 'circumstances' at the beginning of their marriage which had drastically changed in the last decade in a half.
"Is this what you think of me? Is this what you think of our marriage—What our entire relationship is?—A business transaction?"
Cal looked at her coolly, "Isn't it?"
Insulted and hurt by this, Rose dropped her hands and stood up straight looking down at him. She shook her head, trying to understand him, "I don't know if you're joking or not." Rose stared at him in disbelief, "Do you not know me at all? Do you honestly believe that I would just-just up and leave because our societal status has changed? What do you take me for?"
"Isn't that what you married me for?—My money?" Cal asked snidely trying to push her away with his words.
It had just occurred to her then, "Oh," Rose knew what he was trying to do. He was trying to push her away but she refused to budge. "It's not going to work. I won't leave. You can say all of the cruel things that you want, Cal, but I will not leave." She pushed her initial annoyance aside and knelt back down to him, taking his hand, "I've been where you are. I had almost jumped off a ship because I felt hopelessness and like I had no other choice. It wasn't the answer then and this isn't the answer now," Rose placed her hand over the pistol and slowly took out of his hand putting it down on a nearby end table. "No money in the world would ever change what I feel for you. Money means nothing. We can always make more but this…" she reached out and placed her hand flat against his chest over his heart, "… You and I and our children that does mean something, Cal. That's what's important."
Feeling like a fool and questioning his self-worth, Cal lowered his head. "Why do you even love me? I'm not worth it. I was so terrible to you—"
"—Hush," Rose silenced him by placing her forefinger against his lips. "We've grown so much since our past. We're not those same people. I love you for your will to be a better man. I love the father you are to our children." She pushed the piece of dark hair that had fallen over his forehead, "We are each other's second chance."
Cal brought her hand that she held to his lips.
With a small smile, Rose shifted from her knelt position and slid across his lap. She wrapped an arm around his neck. Cal laid his head down over her collarbone letting her hold him tightly, taking comfort in her love.
