Chapter Sixteen

October 2nd, 1913
New York City, New York

Rose found herself at Tim's house that evening making dinner. They had gotten off work around the same time and Rose had decided to put in effort to make herself stay out of her apartment. When she was there, she only found herself wanting to lay down and stare at pictures of Jack. But she knew it wasn't good for her. The dreadful feeling about him was ever more present as his birthday approached. Last year, it had been horrible. And still, this year, seeing the date on the calendar, it's significance still weighed on her heavily. Part of her hated herself for going to Wisconsin for those documents, but at the same time she was grateful for the few keepsakes she had left of him. She was trying her hardest, however, to look forward to a future. One she was unsure of, but slowly and surely, she was building confidence to get off the beaten path and make her own. She found herself steadily growing towards that goal by being around the good-natured Tim.

"How's it coming?" Tim asked, appearing from the stairs with his coat draped over his arm.

"Fine," Rose called, "I'd say the stew is almost ready. Just a few more minutes for the potatoes to soften," She turned to gaze at him across the kitchen island.

"Hey, I got a surprise for you," Tim grinned, laying his coat down on a chair.

Curious, Rose set her wooden spoon down. She approached the kitchen island, placing both her palms down on the counter, "You have my attention. What would that be, Mr. Calvert?"

"Well, it's not for another month, but I'm excited, so I have to show you now," Tim reached into his coat pocket, withdrawing two glossy tickets and a small pamphlet, "It's for an art show here in New York City. It's not snooty art or anything like that," He explained as Rose took a ticket into her hand to inspect, "These are local artists just trying to show the world what they can do. That's my favorite kind of art."

Rose smiled and reached for the pamplet, "I've never heard of these artists," Rose said, reading through it, "That will be great. A fresh perspective. New art entirely," Rose grinned at him, "That's much better than going to an event at a museum to see the same Van Gogh paintings we've all seen dozens of times," Rose set the pamplet down on the counter, "This sounds great, Tim. Thanks so much for buying the tickets. When is it?"

"November 10th," Tim told her, "We can make a whole evening out of it. We can go out to dinner and the art show."

"Mmm, very traditional," Rose grinned as she returned to stirring the stew, "Another trick from those novels you read?"

"Oh man, I'm going to get Maggie for that one," Tim laughed.

...

October 8th, 1913
New York City, New York

Rose had just finished checking her empty mailbox and was beginning up the hall for her apartment, when her name was shrieked, bouncing off all the walls. She hunched her shoulders for a moment and turned to see Liliana in the front foyer, her leather helmet tucked under her arm.

"Yoo-hoo, Rose! I finally made it home from school fast enough!" She was nearly breathless, grinning at Rose as she slumped her backpack onto the ground, "It's that time of the year again! You remember, right?" Rose sighed and grinned, gripping the strap of her purse.

"Of course. It's time for your birthday again," Rose said as Liliana fished into her backpack, slamming books and pencils around to find what she was looking for. Finally, she found a light pink envelope and took it to Rose, leaving everything discarded in the front foyer. Rose noted that her name looked to be penned much better than last years invitation.

"I hope you can make it," Liliana told her, smiling sweetly and innocently, "Maybe you can bring your beau by, too. You're still seein' him, right?"

"Tim, yes," Rose nodded, tucking the invitation in the pocket of her coat, "I'll see if he can make it. Thanks for the invitation, Liliana," Rose turned and began putting her key in her apartment door. Liliana stayed where she was, watching the back of Rose.

"Are you going to marry Tim?" Liliana asked.

Rose paused and peered over her shoulder, "I don't know, Liliana."

"Well, I think you should," Liliana put her hands on her hips.

"Why's that?" Rose now turned towards the girl and arched her eyebrows, genuinely curious in her answer, though, she had to admit, she wasn't expecting much.

"First of all, you've been seeing him for awhile now. He was at my birthday last year, so that's tellin' you something," Liliana came closer to Rose, peering up at her. Her blond hair was held back by a green headband to match the green and black plaid velvet dress she was wearing, "Second of all, he looks like all the hero's from the books. You know, tall, dark, handsome, mysterious," Liliana counted off on her fingers. Rose grinned as Liliana continued, "And three, I wanna be the flower girl, so why aren't you two married yet?!" She put her hands back to her hips, "It's obvious you two are in love. What's the hold up!"

"There's a lot more that goes into a relationship that leads to marriage than you think," Rose told her, nearly in a maternal way, "It's not like in the books, Liliana. I know you and your sisters are ferocious readers. I saw all the books in the apartment. I'm the same way, books everywhere. But you have to understand they're for enjoyment. The man is always going to get the girl and they'll live happily ever after. But in real life, there's more to consider."

"So, you don't think Tim is the one?" Liliana's eyebrow furrowed.

Rose shifted the weight between her feet for a second and shook her head, slightly flustered, "No, that's not what I'm saying," She forced out, "What I'm saying is these things take time. And we all have our own timeline. When the timing is right, I'll know. Just like you will in the future when you meet the man of your dreams."

"I hope he's blond," Liliana grinned, "Blond hair and bright blue eyes. That's what my dream man would look like."

Rose sighed and smiled, pressing her hand to Liliana's shoulder, her heart pounding in her chest, "Blond hair and blue eyes does make for a good look on a man."

...

October 10th, 1913
New York City, New York

Rose finished making Tim's coffee and delivered a warm croissant to a patron's table before going to his. He grinned up at her from his newspaper as she smoothed her apron and withdrew an opened light pink envelope, offering it out to Tim with a smirk. He pulled the card free from the envelope, adjusting his glasses on the bridge of his nose.

"Oh, this is the girl from last year, right?" Tim asked, grinning up at Rose.

"Lucky us, we have been invited to the party of the year twice now," Rose laughed.

"Hey, she's turning sixteen this year, huh? Let me buy her gift, I know just what to get."

"Oh?" Rose cocked an eyebrow up, "What's that?"

"It's an old Calvert tradition for the girls," Tim said, "I'll see you this Saturday?"

"Same as last year," She leaned over and pecked him on the cheek.

...

October 14th, 1913
New York City, New York

Jack and Frenchie steadily carried a canvas to lean against the wall beside the door to the studio. They both took a moment to breath, glancing to the twelve finished paintings. Frenchie walked down the line, inspecting each one. Jack put his hands on hips and simply waited, watching every step his boss took. He paused, however, and looked to the debutaunte scene Frenchie had yet to get to. He was busy admiring the water hole scene that had many heads bobbing in it. Jack gnawed on his lip for a moment when he realized that four out of the twelve debutauntes were vibrant red heads. It looked out of place to Jack. He hadn't realized what he had been doing when he had done it. He thought, surely, Frenchie would demand it be re-done. But Frenchie turned to it and then clapped his hands together, coming back to Jack.

"They look wonderful, Jack! These are going to look great at the art show," He nudged Jack with his elbow, "Maybe some of them will sell!"

"Oh, I don't have a doubt in my mind," Jack crossed his arms over his chest, "We hopefully won't come home with any of them."

"Just two more!" Frenchie said, brushing past Jack and going to their cluttered work space, "The fishing on the lake scene and the park of dogs. We can do it!"

"I gotta go make some green for the grass and brown for the dog's fur," Jack said, jabbing his thumb in the direction of the backroom, "You'll know where to find me."

"Okay, sure," Frenchie was already distracted, "I'm going to paint the base, then, to the dog park."

"Sounds good," Jack replied, collecting some buckets and draping some towels over his shoulder. He walked into the backroom and paused when he saw Iris sitting up on the window sill, the large window propped open. She had her eyes closed and her head pressed to the pane. Her shoes were discarded on the floor. Jack and Frenchie had been painting for nearly thirteen hours. Iris was trying to be supportive, but fatigue was obviously wearing on her. Jack smirked, setting the buckets down and crossing to her on the sill.

Jack gently reached out, pressing his hand to her arm, "Hey, Iris," He whispered, giving her small push. She stirred for a moment and turned her eyes on Jack, her face turning beet red, "Hey, wake-y, wake-y."

"Oh, Jack," She sat up on the sill, her knees coming towards her chest, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to doze off."

"It's alright, it's been a long day," Jack told her, smiling all the while, "Why don't you head home? Frenchie and I are startin' another painting."

"Another?" Iris was incredulous as she reached for her shoes. Her arm fell just short, however. Jack knelt, grabbing the black heels, and handed them to Iris, "Thank you- but Jack, Frenchie needs to sleep. Two paintings left? I'd say you could do that in a month's time."

"Yeah, well," Jack shrugged, "We're on a roll," He crossed to his buckets and began wiping them down, "Besides, if we finish early, then Frenchie will have time to do all his meticulous finishing details. That way he'll be feelin' sky-high about 'em when we take them to the show."

"Well, if you think it's worth it..." Iris said, slipping her heels on and leaping off the sill, "I guess I'll head home. I think I've given enough moral support for today."

"You're relieved, soldier," Jack joked, his eyes down on the bucket.

"See you tomorrow?" She asked, coming to stand behind his crouched body. She reached down, pressing her hand gently to his shoulder. Jack peered up at her.

"Same place, as usual."

...

October 16th, 1913
New York City, New York

Tim knocked on the door while Rose was busy heating her curling iron on the stove top. She called for him to let himself in. He came through the door in a dark grey woolen three piece suit, something red tucked under his arm. He grinned when he saw Rose, closing the door behind him and coming to the edge of the kitchen tile.

"Can you believe it? It's been one whole year since our first date," Tim grinned. Rose laughed, lifting the curling rod and twirling a tuft of hair around it.

"So, what did you get for sixteen-year old Liliana?" Rose arched her eyebrows at him, "I'm dying of curosity as to what the Calvert tradition is."

Tim pulled it out from under his arm and offered it towards Rose. She set the curling rod down and fluffed her hair, crossing and taking the package into her hand. There was a large velvet bow tied across all four sides of the rectangular gift. Beneath it was a well-made leather journal with flowers carved into it. And lying diagonally across the top of the journal was a nice black and shiny fountain pen to accompany it. She slowly looked to Tim.

"When a girl turns sixteen in the Calvert family, she got a journal?"

"Yeah, there's a card with what my dad would say when he presented it," Tim said, pointing towards the side of the bow, "I think it's something Liliana could appreciate as she becomes a woman in this world."

Rose flashed a small smile at him and reached for the card. His handwriting was so pristine and neat, she was nearly jealous of his penmen skills.

Dearest Liliana,

I hope this journal finds you well. My father had a tradition of giving each one of my sister's one when they turned sixteen and I wanted to pass this tradition onto you. This is what my father said every time a sister received one, like it was their right of passage. I wanted to be sure you got your turn, so you now you know you're a real woman. As my father would say, 'On this day of your sixteenth birthday, you've crossed a milestone and entered a new chapter of life. As you grow to become a woman in this world, just know, everything isn't sugar and dolls. Instead, you will face times that make you question who you are, wonder what's to become of you. These are feelings you, as a woman, cannot show weakness to in this world. Any self-doubt that might plague you is to go into this journal. You are to release it through the ink of this pen, not allow it to grip you. And one day, I'd like you to find this dusty journal packed in a box in the cellar. I want you to read it and reflect. I want you to laugh at it. On this day of your sixteenth birthday, you are given your ticket to freedom in this world'.

Happy Birthday, Liliana.

xoxo, Tim and Rose

Rose's green eyes darted up to Tim, slowly lowering the card back to it's place beneath the bow. She swallowed roughly and glanced to the journal, then back to him.

"I think she'll love it," Rose breathed, "What a grand tradition to have, Tim."

"I only hope to do the same if I have a daughter," Tim grinned, making Rose's body heat up.

...

"Daddy, I think it's time for presents," Liliana said sweetly, looking up from her slice of cake, baked by Suzette's magical touch. A lot of parents smiled behind their glasses of wine and party punch, glancing towards Edgar who was grinning, twirling his whiskey around.

"Alright, pumpkin," He finally said, "Finish your cake and we'll do presents."

Liliana began scarfing the rest of her cake down. Her sister, Cat, peered at her as if she was disgusting, taking her time to finish the rest of her cake. Liliana carelessly wiped the crumbs from her face and darted towards the couch nearest to the table. Parents and friends migrated that way. Many adults seated themselves in chairs or stood at the back of them. All the girls and boys settled on the floor in front of Liliana, as if they were her audience. She was just reaching for the closest present when her father stepped between her.

"Nuh-uh. Not yet, young lady. I want you to first thank everybody for comin' and thank them for the presents," Edgar told her. Liliana blushed furiously and batted her eyes towards the crowd. Rose smiled behind her wine glass. That girl had a way with people.

"Thank you, everyone," Liliana said bashfully, "You really do help it be the party of the year."

A laugh ran amongst the adults. Edgar grinned at his daughter lovingly and handed her the first present, which was small and wrapped in newspaper, "This one is from Shirley and her parents."

Liliana excited ripped it open and gasped in delight, holding it up, "It's a brooch! Shirley, I didn't think I told you I collected them," She smiled adoringly at it. Edgar passed her another gift from her friend Ellen, "Oh, earrings. They're darling. Thank you, Ellen."

"Hm, oh, this one is from Rose and Tim," Edgar said, holding the present towards her.

Liliana's eyes lit up and she reached for the present, holding it against her chest for a moment, "You two actually got me something?"

Rose and Tim cackled at this. Tim licked his lips and grinned, "Of course we did. Didn't all of us here bring you gifts?"

Liliana blushed and looked to Tim before she reached for the card. Everyone in the room watched in silence as she read the rather long note. Liliana's smile grew bigger and bigger. She tore the ribbon away and held the pen up, watching the light reflect on it. She then opened the journal and ran her palm along the page. Liliana set her new gifts to side and bolted from the couch. She raced to Tim and Rose, throwing her arms around both of them.

"Thank you, thank you!" She whispered. Tim grinned and placed his hand on her head. Rose stared at Tim as he gazed down on the young girl who was making her descent into womanhood. Something about him. He had a way with people. He just knew things. And that was incredible to Rose.