Chapter Forty
January 28th, 1914
New York City, New York
It was a fresh winter day. The sky was a bright ceruluean without a cloud to be seen. Rose's apartment had all the windows open, as normal. The cream curtains tranquilly drifted in the fresh breeze coming into the apartment. Rose was busy dropping book after book into boxes. She hoisted one upwards, carrying it to stack it by the front door. She let out a long sigh, rubbing her lower back as she turned around the room, seeing her apartment in mayhem.
Jack appeared from the back room, carrying a box of Rose's dresses. He looked to her and clucked his tongue as he effortlessly lifted the box to top the stack, "Hey, you should be doing your closet. Why are you doing the heavy stuff?"
"My books have a particular order," Rose told him, turning back to the bookshelves that weren't even half-way packed up, "That way, when I'm unpacking them, I can put them back in order."
"You're telling me all of these books have a meaningful placement on the shelf?" Jack arched his eyebrows, "I thought you just shoe horned them wherever you could."
"No, no, there's an order," Rose insisted, crossing back to her space and sliding an empty box closer to her, "I can handle it, really, Jack," She looked over her shoulder towards him, her curls spilling down her back. Rose held a book in her hand and she grinned, running her fingers along the indention of where the title was, "Let me do as much as I can before I can't."
"You're not going to be completely indisposed," Jack joined her at the bookshelf, handing her books that she then situated into the box. She crouched down and looked back up at him, "There are days you may feel sick, may feel huge, but you'll still be able to function, I promise."
"I just keep thinking about the horror stories I heard from my mother and her friends," Rose shuddered at the thought, feeling a warm sensation as she recalled the sun bleeding into the tea room of her childhood home, where she was forced to partake with the women of the society, "My mother herself suffered a truly awful pregnancy with me. It's probably why she never had another."
"Well, like the doctor said," Jack shrugged, clustering three books into his arms and handing them down to Rose, "the sickness should subside further into your pregnancy," He grinned at her, pausing from clearing the bookshelf, "Besides, you're stronger than those women."
Rose laughed airly, "Or just more reckless."
Jack knelt down beside Rose, gazing at her from across the box, "Trust me when I say you're strong. You've put up with more than any person should have in eighteen years, Rose," He smiled in the next moment, gripping the side of the box, "Speakin' of which, you're about to be nineteen. Fresh year, fresh start, right?"
Rose grinned weakly, "Yes... I almost forgot."
"And just imagine," Jack grinned, "this year, we will celebrate your birthday in our new home."
"Yes, speaking of which," Rose stood up and gazed around the room for a moment, "We're not going to have nearly enough furniture. The living room is bigger than mine."
"Yeah, we'll have to piece it together slowly," Jack rubbed the nape of his neck sheepishly. He wrapped his around Rose's waist, "It's okay. By the time the baby is here, I'm sure we will have everything that we need."
"You sound so sure," Rose looked to him, "Makes me think you've done this with a woman before."
Jack burst out into a chuckle, his shoulders bobbing and making her body quake against the side of his. He looked down at Rose, pecking her on the forehead, "Guess you'll never know. Suppose you'll just have to trust me, huh?"
"I guess so," Rose said with a cheeky-knowing grin.
"You're stuck with me now, no going back!" Jack enveloped Rose into his arms and swung her around. She giggled ferociously as he purposefully tipped over, laying Rose across the couch and falling ontop of her. Rose's head sunk into the couch cushion, her curls splayed around her. Their fingers absent mindedly toyed with each other as he gazed down on her beautiful face that glowed in the afternoon light. He took in a deep breath and whispered, "I don't think you know how excited I am about the future, Rose."
"Why are you so excited?" She asked softly, tilting her head.
Jack reached up with his free hand, tenderly stroking some curls from the frame of her face, "This time last year, I had just begun working for Frenchie and livin' in his attic," Jack told her, his touch igniting a flame across her skin, "I was an absolute mess. Thinking you were dead... thinking it was my fault-"
"It never would have been your fault," Rose whispered, furrowing her brow and gently grazing his jaw.
"That's what it felt like," Jack replied, "All I had to remember you by was a newspaper clipping. It was your obituary... but it had the nicest photo of you. I would stare at it for hours, just thinking about you. To be starting the new year with you and a baby on the way... it's just so wildly different, it's exhilerating. I don't know. I can't explain it. But I do know, I'm excited, Rose."
"In a way, it is a dream come true," Rose replied, her lips barely moving, as her green eyes gazed into Jack's, "But... I'm still scared, Jack. About going through with this- giving birth to this baby. What if I can't do it?"
"You can," Jack told her seriously, his hand resting on her collarbone and his face hovering inches above her's, "and you will. I'll make sure you're good and comfortable. We can even hire someone to help us. I promise everything will be taken care of," His calloused fingers met the tip of her jaw, making her entire body radiate beneath his, "It's okay to be scared, Rose," He whispered, his face coming closer to her's, "It's something we've never done before. It's a new path and it's alright to be scared. But please, don't think something bad will happen. I won't let it," His palm now cupped her cheek and she melted into the touch, "You and this baby are my entire world, I swear."
Rose lifted her head, gently meeting his lips. The kiss was slow, but promising. When their lips parted, Rose gripped his neck, staring into those familiar blue eyes. The blue eyes that nearly matched the sky in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean. His blue eyes that promised comfort, protection; everything she desired, "I have to ask..."
"Ask away," He whispered, rather breathlessly, as he still clung to the feeling of her lips.
"Do you want a boy or a girl?"
Jack smirked, lowering his eyes for a moment, his blond hair tossling across his forehead. He lifted his bright eyes and pressed his hand to the side of her stomach, "I don't care," He shook his head, his smile never wavering, "As long as it's healthy, I really don't care, Rose. Boy or girl. The choice isn't really up to us, anyway, is it?"
Rose giggled, resting her head back against the couch cushions. She also gently brushed over her stomach, which wasn't showing much of a sign besides the smallest lump, "Well, I hope it's a little boy that looks like you."
Jack cocked a bold brow up and laughed, "Just for that, I hope it's a little girl that looks like you, instead," The couple shared a laugh, relishing in the cool breeze from the open window. Together, their hands rest on Rose's stomach, where their future await them.
...
February 1st, 1914
New York City, New York
Rose stood in the center of the living space of her new home. Not an apartment, an actual house. She gazed straight ahead towards the french doors. Beyond that, the wet melting snow radiated brightly in the overhead sun. Rose gazed towards the few boxes stacked against the walls and then at the two love seats from her apartment that had made it to the house. She took a few curt paces around the room, looking all around, and making mental notes as to what her and Jack would have to shop for to make it more of a home. She put her hands on her hips, inspecting the windows. She couldn't decide what colors the curtains would need to be. Something to brighten to room up, she thought, as it was the first thing in sight of the entrance.
Just then, the front door opened, tearing Rose away from her thoughts. She walked towards the archway leading into the foyer to see Jack carrying a box in, followed by two other people, whose arms were also full.
"In the living room is fine for the time being," Jack told the older brunette man and young blonde girl. Together, the trio cluttered everything they were carrying along the wall, dusting their hands and sighing in relief. Jack clapped his hands together and put his hands on his hips, "Well, I don't think everyone has formally met. Rose, this is Frenchie, my boss, and his younger sister, Iris; she's an artist, as well."
"It's great to meet you," Rose shook Frenchie's hand first, which was met with great vigor. Iris' handshake was a bit more stiff, but she shared the semblance of a fragile hand like Rose, so she didn't think much about it, "Jack's told me really great things about you two."
"Congratulations, by the way," Frenchie said, rather sheepishly, "Jack's a really great guy. The order of your life is not what matters. But having a guy like Jack, does."
"Aw, shucks, Frenchie," Jack grinned, giving his boss a small nudge, "He's just sayin' that because he loves babies for whatever reason."
"They're cute!" Frenchie furrowed his brow together, "Are you telling me you don't think babies are cute, Jack?"
"I think you've found your nanny," Iris said quietly, a small smile on her face.
Rose giggled at the comment and Iris looked towards her. Iris' eyes followed Rose's long ferocious curls falling down her back. She examined the glow of her porcelain skin. Rose looked towards Jack and immediately, Iris' eyes darted to him, to see his bright eyes and big smile. Iris panged inside for a fleeting moment, gazing down to the freshly upholstered carpet.
...
Rose stepped out onto the connected balcony of the master bedroom to take a break. They had hauled majority of the bedroom things there first and she was determined to have it unpacked in time for bed. She knew she would be tired once night came. Rose tilted her head up into the sun, going to lean against the railing. She took a moment to gaze over the empty backyard before looking back up towards the sun, crossing her arms over her chest. Rose sighed, her lower back aching in protest of all her movement. Her feet throbbed in her shoes. Even her legs hurt. Rose brushed a curl back from her face, sighing in the process.
She heard the shuffle of feet onto the deck and opened her eyes, expecting Jack. She masked her shock, however, upon seeing it was Iris. The petite blonde girl stepped out onto the balcony and gazed over the slushy mess of snow down below before glancing towards Rose. Iris lowered her head for a moment, her wavy blonde hair falling around her face.
"You and Jack are really having a baby, huh?" She asked, rather dumbly. She lifted her bright blue eyes to look at Rose.
"I think so," A small grin twitched at her lips. Rose glanced towards the yard for a moment, "I definitely feel sick like I'm going to have a baby."
"What's it like?" Iris asked, her eyes never leaving Rose's, "Being pregnant, that is."
"Well," Rose shrugged half-heartedly, "I've only known for less than a month. But, honestly, I feel fatigued much easier. Nauseated. It's not always great. You can only do so much to alleviate the pain, sometimes."
"And... this is what you want?" Iris tilted her head slightly, a lock of her hair grazing her round cheek, "To get married, have a baby; be a wife and mother?"
Rose lowered her eyes for a moment, watching her fingers tap against her arms, tucked together to keep her warm. She eventually looked back to Iris, "It will be more than just being a wife and mother. Jack wouldn't let that be my only identity. He wouldn't think of me only in those terms."
"You know," Iris let out a long sigh and turned towards the railing, gripping it and looking out over the backyard, "you're very lucky to have someone like Jack."
"I am," Rose nodded.
"Have you ever loved anybody else?" Iris asked, gazing over her shoulder at Rose.
Rose meerly shrugged, remaining where she was, "There were people I thought I loved," Rose glanced towards the sky, squinting for a moment, "but I didn't know what love was, then."
"What is love to you?" Iris nodded her head.
Rose took in a deep breath, gazing all around before she finally looked at Iris, "Love feels like home. I look at Jack and that's what I see."
Iris turned her eyes back towards the yard, gripping the railing tightly. Her teeth copied, clenching with great strength, building a tensity in her shoulders, "That's what I felt, too..." She whispered.
"Pardon?" Rose leaned forward, "I didn't catch that, I'm sorry."
Iris ran her tongue along the front of her teeth, feeling hot tears prick behind her eyes. She didn't dare look at Rose. Her entire body was beginning to tremble, making her ache. Iris took a deep breath and shook her head, "Nothing."
Rose watched the back of Iris for a moment, "You know, he cares a great deal about you."
"That's what everyone says."
"I'm sorry it's not what you wanted."
Iris looked towards Rose now, her eyebrows arched, "It doesn't matter. At least someone got what they wanted," And with that, she turned on her heels and left. Rose watched the door where she disappeared and heaved a sigh. She finally gave in to her aching feet, sinking to the ground and straightening her legs out in front of her. The boards of the balcony were cool and stung her thighs. Rose gazed back towards where Iris had disappeared, lost in thought, as her hand rest over her stomach.
...
Rose was tired as she made her final entrance into her old apartment complex. The sun was setting, bathing the city in bright hues of orange. Rose checked her mailbox, but luckily, nothing was there. She padded down the hall, gazing towards her familiar silver key. She sighed, jamming it into the apartment's door one last time. When she entered, she nearly shuddered at the sight of the barren apartment. She closed the door gently behind her, slowly wandering towards the center of the living space. She twirled in a circle, her gray cotton dress swirling around her legs.
For nearly two years, this had been her safe place. Her hideaway. She gazed at the walls where posters of nickelodeans had once hung. She stared at the indention in the carpet of where her heavy oak bookshelves used to sit. Rose's hand slowly glided along the breakfast bar, the cool tile stinging the tips of her fingers. Rose paused, however, when she saw a forgotten pack of crumpled cigarettes sitting on the bar. She stared at them for a moment before she reached forwared and flicked the packaging open to see one cigarette and a lighter remaining. Rose twiddled the cigarette between her slender fingers in front of her eyes.
One last time. One more to take the edge off, She thought to herself, placing it between her lips. She lit it and inhaled, not even bothering to open any windows. Rose closed her eyes and relished in the burning sensation of the smoke against her throat. Her entire body tingled as she drew from the cigarette again, her lipstick smudging the end.
Everything's gonna be alright, Rose.
"I know..." She whispered, lowering the cigarette for a moment.
I'm excited for the future.
"I want to be, too," Rose said, her voice nearly strained.
Everything will work out.
"Is it that easy, though?" Rose protested, smoke drifting from her lips slowly. She turned to look at the empty room around her, "Can people really live happily ever after? Those phrases are used in fairtytales... and I was always chastised for blurring the line between them and reality. Is it really all so simple? That you get what you want and everything else magically fades away, makes sense, and works out... it seems so far fetched," Rose took a drag of her cigarette, carelessly letting the ash fall across the carpet as she paced.
"I want to believe everything will work out. I'll have Jack, we'll have our home and our baby, and life will finally make sense," Rose took a deep breath, her nostrils flaring, as the smoke of her cigarette wafted past her, "But when has anything in my life actually worked out? All these skeletons... they'll topple over me, they'll crush me sooner or later," Rose shakily inhaled from her cigarette, "And they just keep adding up..."
Rose glanced to her cigarette, sad to see it slowly burning away. Quickly, she took another drag and shook her head, "I want to be a good mother. I want to be Jack's wife. Hell, I just want to be excited about this pregnancy... something's stopping me, though... I just want to give in to it, dammit," Rose curled her hands for a moment and let out a long sigh, a loose strand of hair from her bun and grazing her cheek, "Just give in, Rose. Stop being so wound up. Stop worrying so much."
Just then, there was a knock at the door. Rose's head snapped that direction and she was motionless for a moment before she briskly walked towards the kitchen, holding the cigarette under the faucet of running water. She glanced to the rather hazy room before she opened the door. When she did, the contents of her late lunch nearly found its way out of her.
Standing there was Tim with an envelope in his hands. He looked to Rose and slowly his hazel eyes wandered around her, seeing nothing but empty space behind Rose. He licked his lips and cleared his throat, "Hi, Rose."
"Hello, Tim," Rose said, straightening her shoulders.
"Are you... moving out?" He asked, rather hestitantly.
Rose took a deep breath and glanced over a shoulder for a moment before willing herself to look into Tim's eyes. Each moment she did, however, she felt as if she was going to be horribly sick, "Yes... I am."
"Onto bigger and better things, hm?" Tim asked, his face not twitching to reflect any emotion in the least, "When's your last day at this residence?"
"Today, actually," Rose told him, "I'm just here for the last things."
"Oh," Tim arched his eyebrows for a moment and nodded, lowering his eyes to the parcel in his hands, "I won't keep you long, then. I just wanted to give this to you," He held it out towards Rose. She saw her name was written across in a dainty, yet sharp, cursive.
Gingerly, Rose took it into her hands and looked to Tim, "What is this?"
"Well, I'm not sure if you remember," Tim rubbed the nape of his neck sheepishly, gazing up and down the hallway for a moment, "But I took one of your short stories and gave it to a client of mine in publishing. That's their response. I didn't open it, so I have no idea what it says."
"Thank you," Rose lowered her eyes to the large envelope cradled in her arms, "I'll read it later. I appreciate you bringing it by, Tim."
Tim nodded slowly, "How are you?"
Rose lifted her eyes from the parcel and shifted her weight between her feet for a moment, "I'm hanging in. What about you?"
"I guess I'm just doing the same," Tim nodded, casting his eyes down.
Rose bit her lip and paused before taking a short curt breath, "Is there a reason you brought this directly to me? You could have mailed it. I forwarded my address with the postal service."
Tim pursed his lips, "I know... I just wanted to see you again. That's all."
A silence fell between the two. Rose shifted the parcel in her arms. It crinkled with each of her movements. Rose looked to Tim, "You know we can't keep seeing each other, Tim."
"Says who?"
"Says me," Rose insisted, shaking her head, "It's not good for us. Especially you. Why do you insist on continuing to see me?"
Tim was silent. The silence continued on beat after beat and Rose waited rather impatiently, wondering if he actually had anything to say. He licked his lips and placed his hands on his hips, "You act like you're replaceable, Rose. I don't know if you know, but you're not. Some days, I just want to see your face. I think it will make everything in the world better."
"How could it?" Rose furrowed her brow, feeling rather hurt, "I... I can't even bring myself to say it; I'm ashamed, Tim. How could you possibly even want to look at me again after what I did?" She felt herself beginning to drown in the familar waves of self-hatred.
Tim sighed, shuffling his feet, "Because I love you. And those feelings won't go away."
"How can I make those feelings go away?" Rose asked softly, feeling herself begin to tremble.
Tim shrugged, "I don't think anything you could say could make them go away."
Rose lowered her eyes for a moment, slowly licking her lips. Her heart was pounding ferociously in her chest, the parcel shaking in her hands. She willed herself to look back to the patiently awaiting Tim, who himself looked lost in the fortress of human emotions. Rose took in a deep breath, her shoulders hunching, "What if I told you... I was pregnant and marrying a different man?"
Tim's eyes darted towards Rose, obviously caught off-guard. He was still for a few moments, unsure of how to react. He eventually reminded himself to blink and breath, "Is that the truth?" He asked softly.
Rose kept her shoulders straight, trying not to falter by her words, "It is. It's not how I intended it to be... but it's the truth."
Tim was silent as he gazed down onto Rose, his glasses gleaming in the light. He opened his mouth for a moment, but no words came out. He lowered his head and pursed his lips again. She could tell so many things were running through his mind. So many what if's, the very same that had scattered through her mind so many times before.
Tim's eyes eventually tore away from his shoes and he looked to Rose, "I still love you. It's not what you want to hear, but I do, Rose. I'll leave you alone because it's what you want. But... I'll never stop thinking about you. I'll never forget our time together."
Rose nodded, gripping the door weakly, trying to keep the tears away, "Okay, Tim."
"You know where to find me."
Rose looked to Tim with glassy eyes. She said nothing and opted only to stare at him. Tim paused for a moment, looking to the parcel in her arms. He then looked at her one last time before he turned and began back down the hallway, his leather soled shoes padding against the carpet.