Chapter 22
"I'll be outside in the garden, if you need me, alright Rose?"
Rose nods, and takes a deep breath, setting her shoulders back in a way that makes her appear more confident than she feels right now. "Okay, Jack."
"Are you sure you don't want me to go with you?" He's gazing at her anxiously, having picked up on her change in demeanor.
Rose looks back at Jack, mouth set in a determined line. "I'm sure, Jack. I'll be all right. I think this is something I need to do alone.
Jack nods in understanding, and waits until Rose has walked purposefully through the double oak doors that lead to Molly's sitting room before turning and walking outside.
The room Rose enters is large and ornate, yet cozy at the same time. The walls are lined with books and oddities from around the world, and the furniture is shining mahogany, the chairs upholstered with chintz and brocade. It reminds her of her childhood home; it is so very different from the simplicity she's used to now with Jack.
In the center of the room, seated stiffly in an upright chair is another fixture from her childhood: her mother. Even from across the room Rose can tell that the past several years have taken their toll on her. Her hair is beginning to turn white at the roots, and her wrinkles are more pronounced. Age spots are forming on her face and hands, and there next to the chair was propped an oak cane, which her mother reached for awkwardly.
As if to save her mother from the burden of standing up, Rose crosses the room quickly, and seats herself on a nearby sofa, ignoring the decorum she would have paid attention to in her mothers presence just some two years ago. The older woman remains looking down at her hands on the cane.
Rose clears her throat. "Hello, mother."
When Ruth finally looks up, Rose finds, to her surprise that there are tears in the older woman's eyes. She thinks back through her life. Had she ever seen her mother cry? No. Not even at the loss of her husband. The closest she had seen Ruth come to tears was on the Titanic after scolding Rose about the importance of her engagement to Cal. It was her desperation that had caused the tears then.
Do you want to see me working as a seamstress? Is that what you want? All our fine things scattered to the wind?
The memory brings a frown to Rose's face more-so than the sight of her mother in tears.
"Rose." Ruth makes as if to reach for her daughter's hand, but draws back.
Minutes pass without a word, and Rose sighs out of aggravation before making to stand up. "Perhaps this was a bad idea. I wanted to see you, but now I can't recall why. You know I'm alive, but that isn't going to change our situation so I'll just leave you be."
Ruth looks up quickly, hurt. As far as she knows, she has this one chance to make things right with her daughter and she was letting it slip by.
"Rose, please. Sit down. There are things you need to hear."
Hesitantly, Rose complies, perching again on the edge of the sofa.
"You're stubborn, Rose."
"Is this supposed to be some sort of apology, mother, because I don't—"
"Let me finish, please." There is the stern look she knows so well.
"You're stubborn. You inherited that from me, I'm afraid, and I owe you an apology. Actually, several. I admit now that I was in the wrong. I should never have forced you in to that arrangement with Cal. Not without giving you time to get to know him and consent on your own. I learned his true nature too late, and for that I am truly sorry."
Ruth looks up from her hands to find Rose's gaze piercing, stirring up further remorse within the old woman. Rose only nods for Ruth to continue.
"After your father died, I panicked. I know I kept a tight leash on you as a child, and I should not have been so uptight, but I knew that there was no money long before your father passed. I wanted you to have a secure future. I wanted you healthy and ultimately happy. When the opportunity arose, I thought the Hockleys were the key to that, and I never paused to ask you what it was that you wanted. I never took the time to get to know you, my daughter, as your own woman, and that is my biggest regret. Watching you turn your back on me for, for Jack, on that ship, even when it meant near certain death… that broke my heart. It changed me. It made me realize all of my mistakes with you. I was never a good mother, and I know that I cannot change the past, but if you would only consider letting me be a part of your future…"
Ruth's eyes were full of tears again, and Rose, although still angry, regarded her mother differently than she ever had before. Ruth was frail, and sitting in that overly large chair, with tears streaming down her wrinkled face, she seemed small; she was no longer the intimidating figure of Rose's memory. As she stared at this small person, her own tears came.
"I would like to forgive you for everything, mother, but I'm not sure if I can. "
Ruth nods, sadly. "I don't ask for forgiveness. I know, with all of the pain I have caused you over the years, forgiveness is not within my rights. All I ask is that you will allow me to be a part of your life for as long as I can be, and for the chance to try and make things up to you if I can."
Rose breathes in deeply. "Mother, If I'm to let you back in to my life you have to understand that I no longer live in the same manner. I will no longer follow decorum, nor will I be expected to, and that is something you have to live with. I will conduct my life the way I want to, and you will no longer have a say."
Rose knows her words are likely hurtful, but she doesn't care. They need to be said.
"I am going to live with Jack for what I foresee being the rest of my life, regardless of any idea of scandal. I will not be brought back into the fold of society."
She waits, expecting protest, but only receives a nod.
Her mother lays a hand on her knee. "I owe you an apology in regards to as well—for the way I treated him in the past, and the way I spoke of him. I was too prejudiced to see him clearly for what he was to you, or as a person in his own right. And I owe him a great debt."
Rose looks straight into her mother's eyes now, bewildered at this change in attitude.
"Rose, that young man never stopped looking for you. Day and night he was on your case, always following some new lead or another, and if it hadn't been for him and his persistence that it would have been what you would have wanted, I would have never found a home here with Molly. I would still be on the streets."
Rose's eyebrows raise in surprise, and Ruth takes note.
"Rose, on the Titanic, I had forgotten what it was to love. Or I didn't want to see it. I wanted so badly to believe that you had found love with Cal that I pushed away any possibility for your unhappiness. I had no idea just how unhappy you were." Ruth takes a deep breath.
"Jack told me how you met. When it still seemed a dismal hope that we would ever find you again, he told me the real story. If I had known then the misery that you felt; that you would have rather thrown yourself off of the ship than go through with the marriage, I would have never acted the way I did. I wouldn't have been happy, but I would have relented and tried to seek other options, because you are my daughter, and even though I am terrible at showing it, I love you, and I only want you to be safe and happy."
Rose chokes on a sob she hadn't realized she was holding back, and moves her hand on top of her mother's. This is the most open and honest her mother has been with her in her entire life.
"Do you realize, mother, that that's the first time you've ever said that to me? That you love me?"
Ruth lets a breath escape her lips. "I am truly sorry, Rose. For every pain I have ever caused you."
Rose closes her eyes for a minute, takes a deep breath, and then stands.
"It's going to take time for me to process everything, mother, and I will do my best to try and forgive you over time. I cannot promise to be very present, but at least now we're back in each other's lives and we can both start to move forward. Jack and I plan on traveling soon, but I'll make sure to write."
Ruth gives a small smile, and stands shakily, leaning on her cane for support.
"That's all I ask, Rose. Let me see you out."
"Oh, that's not necessary. I don't want you to strain yourself because of me. I'll only go and find Jack, and head home, but we'll be back around."
Her mother grasps her hand, giving it a squeeze and looks into her face as if committing it to memory. "Thank you, Rose. For giving me the opportunity to get everything off my chest."
With a nod, before she lets any more emotion show, Rose turns and heads out the double doors, and through then entry hall of Molly's mansion to the front gardens, where she finds Jack seated on a stone bench with a pad of paper on his lap. At seeing her approach he sets his drawing aside and stands.
Wordlessly, Rose lets herself be drawn into his embrace, and lets her tears fall onto his shoulder. She had expected tears, but what she hadn't expected was for them to be tears of relief