Chapter Thirty-Nine
January 15th, 1914
New York City, New York
Jack decided to take Rose to see the townhouse he had rented for them. He noticed she hadn't been feeling particularly well recently and was hopeful to fix the gloomy clouds gathering overhead. Jack thought that seeing their new space, seeing all the opportunities they had, would make her begin to feel good again about the future and come to terms with her past decisions. They walked hand in hand down the gentle curving slope of the sidewalk, the sound of the familiar windchimes reaching Jack's ears. He glanced to Rose, who was absorbing the approaching neighborhood. He grinned and looked forward, determined this would provide a new light in her life.
"Right here, number 311," Jack said, pointing towards the house. The relator had given Jack a key so they could slowly move themselves in. Jack and Rose paused on the porch and he held the gleaming brass key in his palm between them. His free hand reached for her's, squeezing it tenderly, "I think seeing the space I picked for us is really going to get you excited."
"Excited for what?" Rose asked softly, looking towards Jack. He observed how tired she seemed. It almost hurt his heart to see no flame in her green eyes.
Jack brought his hand up and grazed her cheek, "The future, Rose. Our future," He tucked the key back in his pocket and placed his hand against the side of her belly, "The future of our child."
Jack opened the front door for Rose and she slowly wandered through. Her mouth was left agape as she spun around the foyer and entered the large and brightly lit living space. She ran her slender fingers along the mantle of the fireplace and slowly walked towards the french doors, gazing out towards the melting snow in the backyard. She meandered into the kitchen, rounding the island and stopping in front of the deep ceramic sink. Jack appeared in the archway, crossing his arms over his chest and simply observing Rose.
Rose rest her hands against the edge of the sink, her eyes slowly inching around the room. She tried to imagine a different time in that moment. She tried to think what the room would look like on a summer evening. Rose turned her head towards the space reserved for a kitchen table, surrounded by windows. She imagined an evening sunset, orange and pink, bleeding through the windows, bathing the walls. She imagined dinner had just been had, full of laughs and story telling. Rose looked towards the sink, imagining suddy water and bobbing dishes, a blessing that the family was fortunate enough to share another meal together.
But in the next moment, Rose was in tears, pressing her palms to her flushed cheeks. Jack was at her side with the sighting of the first salty tears, wrapping his arms around her slender body. He cradled her against him, pressing his chin against her head. She hiccupped slightly as she basked in the warmth that radiated off of Jack's body.
"Do you want to talk about it?" He asked gently.
Rose sighed and closed her eyes for a few moments. She parted from Jack and walked towards the bay window. She leaned against the wood casting of the windows, her slender fingers grazing the cold glass. She watched the snow before turning her stinging wet eyes towards Jack.
"I'm scared," She told him, shrugging.
"Of what?" He asked, pressing his hip against the kitchen island.
Rose sighed, tilting her head back against the window. The cool glass stung the nape of her neck, causing goosebumps to pucker across her skin, "Jack, I still don't know how I feel about being pregnant. I... I don't know if I can be a good mother."
"That's crazy, Rose-"
"But that's not the worst thing," Rose's black lacy flats padded on the tile floor, scuffing across the grout, "I'm just an eighteen year old pregnant girl, Jack. Society will turn their back on me. My entire world as I know it is changing. I... I just feel like the carpets been yanked out from underneath me and there was absolutely no flooring beneath it to ever find my balance again."
Jack put his hands in his pockets and slowly strolled into the empty space beside Rose. He glanced upwards to the moldings dividing the ceiling from the wall and fleetingly gazed out the window before looking to Rose, "Things are going to work out," Was all he said with a simple flippant shrug.
"But how do you know?" Rose asked, clearly distressed, "People could find out, Jack. And the world I come from... that's such a major thing, being pregnant before getting married. I've told the only supportive person in my life; my boss, Winston. But other than that, Jack, there will be no more accepting smiles or congratulations. It will only be pursed lips, arched eyebrows, and worst of all, silence."
"That's not how it will be at all," Jack told her with bright blue eyes. He pressed his hands to her shoulders, lifted his eyebrows, and gazed straight into her wet eyes, "Things are going to work out, Rose. We'll get married before the baby gets here, but right now, let's focus on making a home for the baby before it comes. You and me have faced harder things than this. To me, Rose, this is the easy part. This is the part that makes the most sense, that feels the most natural," He lowered his hands to her waist, "I know everything is going to work out."
A weak smile mustered across Rose's lips but still, tears continued to gleam in her eyes. Jack lifted her hands, gently pecking at her knuckles. Jack's face lit up, tightening his grip on her, "You haven't seen the best part of the house, yet. Come on," He tugged her wrist and towed her from the kitchen and up the stairs to the right of the entrance. She glanced down the hallway as he took her to the first room, across from the stairs, "This is the master bedroom," He told her, pushing the door open. Rose stepped in and her grin became even bigger.
The room had a slanted ceiling with one large sturdy oak rafter. The bedroom was large and spacious with a walk in closet. Beside that door was the bathroom, with a porcelain clawfoot tub and a separate shower. Rose looked towards the sparkling marble fireplace as she walked past. She gripped the brass door handles of the french doors on the wall opposite of the entrance. When she opened them, she was welcomed by a sharp gust of wind. Rose slowly stepped out onto the spacious balcony. It was snowing again and flakes were caught in her curls and eyelashes. Rose approached the railing and gripped it, gazing down on the backyard.
"Just imagine," Jack appeared beside her, smiling all the while, "it's summer time, it's warm. You could lounge out here and read a book, have a glass of lemonade. You can get up and look down into the yard and see our child playing, having the time of their life beneath the sun," Jack nodded, his breath puffing out before him, "That's why I like it so much. It's a cul-de-sac, there's a yard. It's plenty of space for a child to explore and be outside. It's important to me, Rose, that they get that chance, to be a kid. Not cooped up inside all day."
Rose felt warm inside as she listened to Jack speak about the future of their baby. It made her feel different, tingly, in a way. She lifted her hand to rest against her stomach, lowering her eyes as Jack continued to talk.
"There's also a modest office. It's plenty of room for you to have half for your intersts and for me to have room to paint," Jack said, looking to Rose, "We have room for the baby and a guest room, too. Or... maybe another child," Jack shrugged sheepishly.
"You see a future here?" Rose lifted her eyes to meet his.
"I do, yes," Jack told her. He was quiet for a moment, slowly licking his lips, "Do you?"
Rose smiled, "Yes. I think I do."
Jack grinned, too, making Rose's heart leap in her chest. He dipped down and gently pressed his lips to her as the snow fell around them. They parted, but their faces hovered close together, "I'm tellin' you, Rose," He whispered, "Everything's going to be alright."
Rose's fingers grazed his cool cheek, "I know."
...
January 20th, 1914
New York City, New York
Rose heaved a sigh as she exited her apartment and took a few short steps to apartment 101 directly across the hall. She paused for a moment and smoothed her dress, glancing up and down the hallway. She gnawed on her lip and stalled for only a moment more before she knocked curtly on the door. For a moment, she prayed nobody was home. She hoped, for once, not a single member of the household was to be found. But after a few beats, there was movement on the other side of the door and she exhaled, her shoulders nearly slumping. Rose could hear muffled voices and after a moment, the jangling of the locks on the door. It opened a gap and Suzette stuck her head into view. When she saw it was Rose, she opened the door completely. Rose glanced behind Suzette to see Cat and Liliana on the couches beside the fireplace. Liliana was on her feet the moment she saw Rose.
"Hi, Mrs. Dawson," Suzette greeted warmly, "Everything okay?"
"Oh, yes, fine," Rose nodded politely, "I was wondering if your father was available?"
"Sure, come on in," Suzette stepped aside, "I'll fetch him. He's in the study."
"Thank you," Rose said softly, stepping through the door. Suzette closed it and disappeared around the corner. Rose remained in the foyer, her hands folded in front of her. Liliana bounded from the living room.
"Hi, Rose!" She said, her black clip-on shoes clacking on the tile, "What're you doing here?"
"I just needed to speak with your father," Rose told her, rather reserved.
"Did your hot water go out, too?" Liliana asked.
"No, nothing like that," Rose shook her head.
"Hey, is your friend Jack still in town?" Liliana put her hands on her hips, "I wanted to take him to see the Statue of Liberty. It should be on every American's bucket list."
Rose looked to Liliana, "He's still here, but rather busy."
"Will he be staying long?" Liliana asked, rather eagerly.
"Why?" Rose furrowed her brow.
Liliana blushed madly in the next moment, "I just thought it'd be the right thing to do to show a new person around the amazing New York City, that's all."
Cat brushed past, heading towards the kitchen with a book tucked under her arm. She paused, however, looking to Rose with her dark eyes, "No, Liliana fancies a perfect stranger. She's eager to jump straight into a man's arms."
"I am not," Liliana shot back, looking towards her sister with a scrunched up face.
"Well, sounds like you don't agree with what you wrote in your diary," Cat shrugged and continued towards the kitchen, not even throwing her sister another look.
Liliana crossed her arms over her chest, "Hmph... bitch."
Rose was opening her mouth to speak when Suzette reappeared with Edgar at her side. The old man grinned, lowering his bifocals from their perch on his thick nose, "Ms. Dawson, always a pleasure. I hope you've been well, sweetheart," He gripped her hand warmly, "Please, come sit down and we can chat."
He whisked her completely into the living room. She gingerly seated herself, crossing her legs at the ankle. Liliana sat next to Rose, imitating her posture in hopes of looking more like a lady. Rose folded her hands into her lap and Liliana copied. Edgar made himself comfortable, propping a throw pillow against his lower back. Suzette approached the back of the couch and cleared her throat, "Liliana, let's get dinner started in the kitchen and leave Daddy and Ms. Dawson to chat."
"I'll catch up," Liliana replied, "I'd like to spend time with Rose."
"Now may not be the best-"
"It's okay, Suzette," Edgar grinned up towards his daughter, "It'll help her learn the way of business, anyway," He threw a playful wink towards Rose and she grinned politely. Suzette sighed and left to start dinner. Edgar cleared his throat and sunk into the couch cushions, "Now, what would you like to discuss, Ms. Dawson?"
"Well," Rose let out a long sigh, twisting her fingers together, "this isn't easy to do, but, I'm here to inform you I'll be vacating my apartment by the beginning of February. I'm... I'm moving. But I'd just like to say, Edgar, you've been a wonderfully fair landlord and I appreciate everything you've done for me. It just looks like it's my time to move on. I hope you understand."
Liliana nearly fell out of her chair in shock. Edgar himself even seem surprised, but he didn't twitch much, "I must say, Ms. Dawson, I certainly wasn't expecting you to tell me that."
"Where are you going?" Liliana surged forward, gripping Rose's wrist nervously, "Are you leaving New York City?"
"No, I'm just moving," Rose replied, "I did not mean to shock you two. It's time for me to go, though. I thought I'd inform you so you could find a new tenant."
"Well," Edgar smiled and sat forward, extending his hand, "Ms. Dawson, you've been a truly wonderful tenant. You're young, you have your whole life ahead of you. I suppose it shouldn't really be a shock to me. I wish you only the best, young lady. Please, let me know if there's anything more I can do for you."
Rose gripped his hand tenderly, "Thank you, Edgar," She then stood and smoothed her dress again, glancing subconsciously towards her stomach. She looked between the distressed Liliana and content Edgar before she grinned and began out the door. As she was shutting the door behind her, Liliana stuck her shiny buckle shoes between it and the threshold, making Rose look back towards her. Liliana squeezed through the gap in the door, shutting it completely.
"Rose, where are you moving to?" She asked, folding her hands together and pressing them against her chest, "I hate to think we'd never talk or see each other anymore. Surely there's a forwarding addrss I can contact you by."
"I don't know the proper address," Rose told her, shifting her feet back and forth, "I promise it won't be like that, Liliana."
"Why must you move? What can you do somewhere else that you can't do here, living across the hall from me?" She stuck her lower lip out, her mood becoming pouty.
Rose sighed, lowering her eyes for a moment, "A lot, Liliana. There's a lot of things that require me to move."
"Are you marrying Tim?"
Rose looked to Liliana, only staring. Her fingernails dug at her palms for a moment before she pursed her lips and shook her head, "No. I'm not. I'm moving for myself, Liliana."
Liliana's arms slowly fell by her side, long and lanky, complimenting to her willowy figure, "You and Tim broke up, didn't you?"
"It doesn't matter," Rose crossed to her door, gripping the brass knob beneath her slender fingers, "All that matters now, Liliana, is what I can do for myself."