Chapter Three
The next day we spent on the promenade deck, where Rose taught me how to draw. She was not the most talented artist, but she was a fair one and much more so than me.
"No, not like that, like this," she said, taking the pencil from my hand and redrawing the line. I laughed.
"I'll never understand art," I complained. "You have such a knack for it, and I have not. I much prefer books and literature."
"Don't worry, you'll understand soon enough. All you need is practice. After all, anyone can be an artist if they try hard enough," Rose comforted, drawing a few more lines on my sketch and making the water actually appear to be water.
"I'm bored, Rose, let's take a walk around the deck," I suggested.
Realizing she had lost the attention of her pupil, Rose agreed and put away the papers we had been drawing on.
"Do you really want to marry Cal?" I asked.
Rose remained quiet for a long moment, and I imagined that she hadn't heard the question.
"No, but it means so much to Mother that I do," she said, just as I opened my mouth to ask the question again. "And Cal may be crude, but I'm sure he has his good points. I'm sure I could grow to love him eventually."
I rolled my eyes. Since I was the youngest, I had more time to dream about marriage, and I thought it should be done only for love, not for profit or revenge, or any of the other possible motives for marriage. But Rose was older, and my mother had had more time to teach her about the rules of society, and the sacrifices one is often forced to make for one's family. I often regretted Rose's fate, because though she was the more rebellious one, even she didn't dare to rebel quite so much against our mother's teachings.
"Rose, that's stupid," I said. "This isn't the Middle Ages, you shouldn't do this. You know you'll never be able to love Cal if you don't love him already."
Rose was quiet, absorbing my words.
"What do you want me to do, Margaret? As Mother says, the money is gone. We have nothing. If I don't marry Cal, we'll all end up in a poorhouse," she said finally.
"I don't care! I could survive in a poorhouse, I think. As long as you're not suffering in the same way you are now, I'd be happy," I argued. Since I had become Rose's friend and confidante, I had learned to be more argumentative and stubborn, just as she was. She joked that it was a trait hidden beneath years of training and false attitudes.
Rose laughed at what I said, shaking her head sadly.
"If only that were true, Margaret. But I doubt that even you have that kind of courage. Nevertheless, I appreciate the thought."
That night a woman came on who became one of the few society friends I had on the Titanic: Molly Brown. She was "new money" according to Mother, who greatly disapproved of her. And though we didn't go out of our way to speak with her, Rose and I both enjoyed her company as well as her free spirit and sharp-witted tongue.
That night, when we were preparing for bed and as Rose was brushing my hair for me, we talked about Molly. We laughed at the expression on Mother's face when she chose to sit by us at dinner.
"She looked positively disgusted," I said.
"Like she was about to be seasick," Rose added.
It felt like we were actually sisters. Ever since I had turned six and I had begun to be instructed in the ways of society by my mother, Rose and I had begun to grow apart. She disapproved of the way I followed Mother's every order, and I disapproved of the way she constantly sought out trouble and danger. And when our father died, Rose withdrew even further from me, probably because she thought I couldn't relate, never having been as close to him as she. But Titanic had brought us together, and I was grateful for that.
"Cal too, did you see?" I asked. "Especially when she started talking to you about your plans for the future."
Though I thought Rose would laugh at that, she didn't, and as I looked at her face in the mirror, she seemed distant, withdrawn, sad. I knew she didn't want to marry Cal any more than I wanted her to, but she, unlike I, had a sense of duty towards family that I had never had.
"Rose, are you alright?" I asked unnecessarily. She forced a smile and nodded, then continued to brush my hair as if nothing had happened. "The Robinsons want me to meet their son tomorrow morning. He'll probably be hideous and stupid, just like the rest of them. Any man who requires his parents to get him a fiancée is probably weak-minded or something."
Rose laughed at that, and I smiled, glad to see that the change of subject had changed her mood.
"Don't worry too much about it; I'm sure Mother doesn't expect you to marry him. The Robinsons may be rich, but they are not nearly as rich as Cal, and she wants you to marry into as much money as possible. And if you do like him, you can always marry him just to annoy Mother," Rose said. We both laughed, knowing I would never do that.
"Will you come with me, Rose? Please?"
She stopped brushing my hair for a moment, and I turned to look at her. She smiled, and I knew I had made her happy.
"Of course, if you really want me to," she said. I smiled.
"Of course I do, I wouldn't have asked if I hadn't meant it," I said seriously, and hugged her. It felt like we were little children again.