Chapter Twenty-Eight
November 27th, 1913
New York City, New York
The train bucked back and forth as Rose watched the familiar sight of the dipping skyline as she and Tim travelled north, towards Tarrytown. The trees began to grow more abundant, some towering as high as a skyscraper itself. Tim sat beside her, holding a bottle of champagne between his legs. He had told Rose it was tradition to drink before the Thanksgiving Feast in his household. Rose fidgeted with the cuff of her peacoat as the train jostled her in her seat.
"How was your week?" Tim asked, adjusting his glasses and glancing towards her.
"Pretty busy," Rose replied, looking towards the window, "Between the holiday season at work and actually making friends," She grinned and looked to Tim, "You make it look so easy."
Tim chuckled at this, "Truth be told, it's pretty tiring."
"Well, you never show signs of fatigue," Rose told him.
"It all pays off in the end," Tim shrugged, "Actually, something happened this week that made it all worth it. I had been meaning to tell you about the most interesting man that came to my office this week."
Hesitantly, Rose turned her eyes on Tim and arched her eyebrows, "Oh yeah?" She asked, almost shakily, "What happened?"
"Well, his name was Jack," Tim replied. Her heart leapt to her throat even though she already knew he was going to say that. She clenched the cuffs of her peacoat as he continued, "He was younger than me, that was easy to tell, but he really looked like he had lived through a whole lifetime, I don't know," Tim shrugged, "You looked at his eyes and you could tell it was a man down on his luck. Seemed humbled, yet bitter," Tim shook his head, "I'm getting muddled in the details. Anyway, he told me plain and simple he wanted a divorce. Not anything I haven't seen before. It was the same exasperated look and the tone of a man who was ready to throw the towel in. But the weird part is that his wife's name was Rose. Really caught me off guard," Tim chuckled. Rose was overcome with a chill, "He told me not to chase after women named after flowers. So, we chatted about it, why he wanted it, blah blah," Tim shrugged, "But then he asked me what I thought was the most important part to loving a woman. And when I answered him, he did something I don't get to see enough in the law world. He decided to end the consultation and said he would go talk to his Rose. He didn't come back all week, so I hope they figured something out."
"Wow," Rose said breathily, a wave of nausea coming over her. She trained her eyes down and forced a weak grin, "that sounds really rewarding."
"I just hope he gets the same feeling from his Rose, that I get from mine," Tim smirked and leaned in, gently pecking Rose on her clammy cheeks.
...
Jack was sitting on the communal table, his legs firmly planted on a stool in front of him. He was staring at the large canvas before him that he had begun that morning for Frenchie. It was a commissioned piece of a woman's four grandson's playing a game of marbles. They were dirty and dusty, carelessly laid out on a dirt road with a sloppily drawn circle between them. He had started with the sky. His eyes followed the few clouds that were beginning to take shape. He reached towards the plate sitting in his lap and raised a sandwich to his mouth, his eyes never leaving the painting. He was mesmerized by the light blue paint he was able to mix that morning. He had been so triumphant, his laughs echoing off the silent studio.
Jack took a drink of water and set his water back onto the table beside him, taking another bite out of his ham and cheese sandwich. He raked his hair from his eyes as he finally, he looked around the vacant studio. Jack reached for a potato crisp, chewing without bothering to close his mouth. Again, his eyes wandered around. He looked out the big bay windows, noticing it was quite a beautiful day. He was just thinking about taking his lunch to roof to relax when the studio door opened, groaning loudly through the space.
He looked over his shoulder see Iris walking in, wearing a long dark grey woolen coat. The sash dangled at her side as she let the door shut behind her. She paused when she saw Jack and said nothing. He set his plate down on the table and took a hurried drink of water, hoping to his feet and wiping his hands along his courdoroy pants.
"Iris, hey," Jack said, "I didn't expect to see you today since it's Thanksgiving."
Iris crossed to the communal table and leaned down, reaching for her art supplies in the table. She paused, her eyes hovering over his half-eaten plate. She then looked to Jack, "Is that what you're having for Thanksgiving?"
He smirked and snorted faintly, "I guess so. I have enough for another sandwich, too, if I'm feeling like indulging myself, that is."
"No, seriously," Iris straightened up, setting her portfolio on the table, "Do you not have plans for Thanksgiving?"
"No," Jack knitted his eyebrows together, "I never do."
"Where's Rose?"
"She's visitin' someone else. Why?"
Iris shrugged and recollected her supplies back into her arms. She took a few steps away from the table and looked to Jack, "I just figured, I dunno, that you'd spend Thanksgiving with her since she is your beloved."
Jack placed his hands on his hips, sensing the edge in her voice, "Iris, we need to talk. Now might not be a good time, but we need to exchange some words. I know there's probably somethin' you wanna tell me, anyway."
"Oh? What's that?" Iris turned towards him now.
"You know what I mean," Jack looked pointedly at her, "You should just say what you really think. That you're pissed off at me. That I'm an asshole. Something."
Iris shrugged rather uselessly this time, "What's the point? It will only make things worse."
"I want you to say what you really think," Jack came closer to her now. She gazed up at him. Jack could see all the hurt unfolding in her eyes, "You shouldn't have to keep it all in, Iris. Now tell me exactly what you want me to hear."
His gentle voice just about turned her skeleton into jelly. Iris sighed and lowered her supplies. She felt rather pitiful in that moment, feeling meek as she stood before Jack. She opened her mouth for a moment, but snapped it shut. Jack waited patiently, his hands tucked into his pockets.
"I won't say it," Iris shook her head.
"But why not?"
"Because it's not what you're going to want to hear."
"I can handle being told I'm a jerk and an asshole, Iris," Jack said, pressing his hand to his chest, "I obviously hurt your feelings and I more than anything want to give you the right to be mad at me, so we can figure this out. You're such a great friend to me, it would be wrong to just let that go."
"Okay, fine," Iris said rather sternly. She licked her lips for a moment, lowering her eyes. She shrugged again and heaved a heavy sigh, "Jack, I love you."
"Wait- what?" Jack's face instantly became confused.
"Yeah, not what you expected, right?" Iris said, looking at him, "Certainly not what you wanted to hear. But I can't help myself, Jack. In this past year I've known, I've developed these feelings I've never felt for someone before. Sure, I've had school yard crushes, but never have I felt the way I do before. Even if I'm hurt or jealous or angry or upset, it doesn't matter, because my feelings never changed for you, Jack. And... I can't say I'm surprised someone else has your heart. Who wouldn't want it?"
Jack sheepishly rubbed the nape of his neck, lowering his eyes, "Well... that's even worse than me just being an asshole..."
"I told you; there was no point in you knowing," Iris said, now taking a few steps away from him.
"Iris, you're important to me," Jack looked up, stepping closer to her again.
"Not as important as Rose."
"What does that matter?" Jack asked quickly, "It's not a competition, Iris. If I care for you, there's nothing I wouldn't do to keep you safe."
"So, you're telling me that if Rose and I were both dangling off the side of a cliff and you only had time to save one of us; you'd choose me?" Iris arched her eyebrows, "Because for some odd reason, Jack, I think you'd save her."
"Iris, that's ridiculous," Jack sighed, putting his hands on his hips again, "It would never come down to that, you know that."
Iris paused for a moment and licked her lips, "Are Frenchie and I going to lose you, Jack?"
"What? No," Jack shook his head, "I'm not going anywhere."
"You're not just going to book it for that horizon you two always talked about?" Iris waved her hand loosely at her side, "We're not going to come in one day and find your room empty? Some half-assed letter left on the communal table?"
"No," Jack shook his head again, "I would never do that to you two."
Iris nodded after a moment and scuffed her boots to the concrete floor. She took a breath and straightened her shoulders now, walking towards the door. Jack stood in place, simply watching as her thick blond brain bobbed against her back. She paused, however, and looked over her shoulder towards Jack, "You comin'?"
"Where?" He asked.
"To our house, of course," Iris replied, a small grin spreading across her lips, "For Thanksgiving."
After a moment, Jack finally smiled as well, some tension easing from his body, "Yeah, sure. I'll just grab my coat."
...
Rose and Tim stepped up to the familar porch. It creaked beneath each step as Tim rapped curtly on the screen door before pulling it open in the same brisk movement. As Rose stepped through the doorway, all of her senses were attacked. The house was decorated in many fun colored garlands. They dangled over the archways and were wound around the curtain rods. The house had a mix of smells. Faintly, the salty ocean air, but more prevalent was the smell of vegetable stew, baking bread, and turkey. When the screen door clattered behind the couple, there was shifting from the kitchen, and the radio, which was belting Christmas music already, was lowered in volume.
Eileen appeared in the kitchen archway. Her brown hair was free around her shoulders and she was wearing a red and brown plaid dress with matching heels. A dirty apron hung loosely around her neck. Upon seeing her son, her eyes lit up as normal and she lunged forward, making sure to envelope Rose into her arms as well.
"Timothy! So glad you're here! Great timing, too. I think your father needs help bringing wood in from the alleyway," She pinched his cheek maternally and then took the bottle of champagne from his hands, "And good, you bought the right brand this time," She stuck her tongue out at Tim.
"Hey, I did that once three years ago," Tim laughed warmly.
"Rose, honey, do you have arms of steel that could help mash a bowl of potatoes?" Eileen turned to her now, "The girls have all been taking turns this morning. Maybe you have the final touch to get the right consistency?"
"I'd love to help," Rose told her as Tim slid her jacket off her shoulders and hung it with his by the door.
"Aw, Mom, I'll do it," Tim said as he adjusted his vest, "You should all sit down and have a glass of champagne."
"I might as well work for my free meal, right?" Rose grinned.
"You are just sugar, dear," Eileen pinched her cheek this time, making Tim chuckle, "Go help your father, Timothy. He claims he can carry all of it himself, but I think that's begging for his back to blow out. I need him upright for dinner, do you hear me?"
"Yes, yes, I'm going," Tim said, already heading for the kitchen.
Eileen and Rose followed shortly behind. When she entered the kitchen, every counter was cluttered with a dish, a bowl, a utensil, or food. She couldn't believe the madness. The family was large, however, and there were a lot of people to feed. The twins, Lena and Penny, were wearing matching green short sleeve dresses. They were at the kitchen island stacking asparagus into a long glass dish. Kate was busy fishing asparagus out from boiling water and placing them on the island for the twins to continue the assembly line. Maggie had a dish of golden-glazed bread, which she was tenderly spreading butter across the top. She stuck some oven mitts on and danced between the carnage, ducking below Kate and putting the bread back into the oven. Diana was busy polishing silverware, holding them up towards the window. When the girls caught the flash of Rose's red curls, all their heads snapped her direction, and slowly, she watched a wave of smiles greet her.
"Hi, Rose!" Kate greeted, lifting her tongs from the pot, "Nice to see you."
"Rose is going to keep mashing the potatoes," Eileen announced with a smile, "But first; who would like a glass of champagne."
"Oh, thank goodness Tim did the one thing we asked of him," Maggie grinned, closing the oven door, "I'll pour it, Momma."
Rose reached for one of the many aprons dangling from the pantry door, pulling it around her neck and tying it off. She gazed distantly across the kitchen to see Tim and his father hauling logs of wood towards the burn pit in the center of the backyard. Dan was smiling as he looked to his son. They shared a laugh, knocking their shoulders together, as they went back to the alleyway for another haul. Rose held in a sigh and approached the bowl of mashed potatoes at the kitchen island.
"Hold on, Rose," Maggie caught her attention before she reached for the mashing utensil. Rose looked up to see her extending a flute glass out towards her, "We never complete the mashed potatoes without us finishin' off the bottle. It's tradition."
"Yeah, Momma never makes the glaze for the turkey right without a few glasses," Kate giggled, holding her own glass in her slender hands.
Eilieen gave her a look, "The champagne is just motivation."
"Sure," Kate laughed openly now.
All the women gathered at the cluttered kitchen island now, each with their own drink. Slowly, each Calvert girl looked to each other before Diana finally shrugged and said, "So... what do we toast to this year?"
"What did we toast to last year?" Lena asked, furrowing her brow.
"I think to Daddy's knee surgery going well," Penny replied and all the women nodded as they came to remember.
"Well, he's not havin' another one of those," Eileen said.
"Oh, I know," Kate said, eagerly, "Let's toast to our newest family member: Rose!"
"Oooh, I like that idea!" Maggie nodded and raised her glass. Rose immediately felt her face heating up, "Finally, a girl who can actually put up with our perfectionist and meticulant brother. You definitely have what it takes to be a Calvert, Rose."
"Here, here!" Eileen was so giddy to raise her glass. Rose was the only one not raising her glass. Her heart was thudding heavily in her chest as she looked to each set of hazel eyes of the sister's. Rose hated herself terribly in that moment. She wished she could have been any other person but herself as she stood in their bright and sunny kitchen. Rose felt a lump growing in her throat and she blinked rapidly to keep any tears at bay. The nauseating feeling had returned and it was resonating deeply within her.
"Thank you," Rose finally said, lifting her glass. She didn't mean it in the slightest.
...
Dusk had descended on New York City by the time Tim and Rose had returned by train. She felt as if she was walking so slowly, weighed down by the enormous meal she had just indulged in. Tim walked quietly beside her, a small grin present on his lips. It was chilly outside that night and their breath puffed before them as they walked through the silent pools of light on the sidewalk.
"I think today was really great," Tim told her, wiping his glasses free of any smudges, "My mom knocked it out of the park, as usual. I swear, I gain fifteen pounds during the holidays."
"Yes, I probably shouldn't have eaten that much," Rose said, keeping her eyes lowered.
They paused just outside of Rose's apartment complex. She gazed up at the building for a moment before becoming aware of Tim's eyes on her. She turned her head to meet those hazel eyes and she felt a shiver wrack on body.
"What?" Rose asked, gently touching her cheek, "Do I have dinner on my face still?"
Tim chuckled warmly, his shoulders bobbing up and down, "No, not at all. I just... I really think you're becoming a wonderful addition to my family, Rose. You've melded in so well. I know my sister's adore you. When I see you interact with them, it just reminds me of why I care for you so much."
Rose's entire body grew hot and her stomach tossled wildly inside her, "Well, they're all very nice," She replied, rather dumbly.
"I heard Maggie say you had what it takes to be a Calvert through the screen door earlier this afternoon," Tim said, "I don't think she could have been more right. I want you to be a Calvert one day, Rose," She said nothing and instead just stared at him, trying to keep her quaking body still from the eye, "One day soon, too," He leaned in, gently pressing his lips to her's. She did everything in her power to decently return the kiss, "Good night, Rose."
Rose watched him walk away for a few moments before she went inside. Upon stepping into the light of the foyer, she just about collapsed. Her heart rate was off the charts. She allowed a few tears to brim her eyes now and she cursed under her breath, It shouldn't be this hard, she shook her head, her curls rustling against her shoulders. Rose fished her keys from her pocket and let herself into the apartment, some lone tears coming down her cheeks. But she paused, however, upon realizing the candles in her living room were lit and the windows were open. Rose looked around, her shoulders rising and falling. Her eyes fell on Jack who was sitting on the window sil, his knees propped up to his chest. A cigarette dangled between his lips. Upon hearing her, he turned his mesmerizing blue eyes on her.
"Hey," He said, lowering the cigarette, "I brought brownies."