Chapter Fifty-Five
July 1st, 1914
New York City, New York
There was a knock at Jack and Rose's door shortly after the clock struck ten. Rose rushed down the stairs, fluffing her curls down her shoulders. She threw the door open and grinned when she saw Thomas standing there. They exchanged a hug and Rose quickly ushered him into the house and towards the kitchen. Jack was busy getting coffee brewing and slicing up some fruit. He grinned and greeted Thomas as he brushed past. Quickly, he began settling his things on the island, pulling out many folders of files.
"Thanks again for offering to come to my house for this," Rose told him, absent-mindedly smoothing creases out of her maternity dress. She watched as he lined paper after paper out on the counter, each one begging to be signed by Rose.
"Not a problem," Thomas grinned, barely glancing up from his task, "You're looking very well, but like I told my wife when she was pregnant with our kids: You look like you're ready to pop!"
Rose grinned politely, running her hand over her large belly, "The time for the baby to be here is coming up fast. I'm just glad I was able to finish my novel before that fiasco."
"As someone who raised three boys and two girls, I can say with ease that you're going to do just fine, Rose," Thomas replied, seating himself in the stool, "What're you hopin' for?"
"Boy or girl, either will be fine," Rose told him, watching as Jack arranged neat slices of fruit along a plate, "We just want it to be healthy."
"By the looks of you, talking by experience, of course, I'd say you're havin' a boy, Rose."
Rose smiled, glancing to Jack again, "You know, that's what I've been telling Mr. Dawson here, but he is just certain we're having a little girl."
Jack now turned towards the island, setting his artistically laid out plate of fruit in front Thomas' work station. He crossed his arms over his chest and grinned nearly mischeviously between Rose and Thomas, "My gut feeling just says it's a girl. I know it."
"Uh-oh," Thomas chuckled heartily, "I know those tones. Bets have been placed, haven't they?"
"Friendly ones, yes," Jack replied with a nod. The coffee maker beeped, drawing him back to the side counter. He began arranging three cups of coffee, laying out his raw sugar and creamer beside them. Thomas gestured to the empty stool beside him.
"Well, shall we get started on these mountain of papers I need you to sign?"
"Yes, right away. I certainly don't want to keep you."
"Feh," Thomas waved his hand dismissively as Rose lowered herself into the stool beside him, "Between you and I, I like the time I get away from the office during the day. It's so damn hot and loud in there. I swear, I still hear those typewriters roarin' away when I'm laying down to go to bed. This, to me, is a vacation."
Rose smiled at the warm friendliness that Thomas exuded. She was comforted by his paternal personality. She certainly felt lucky in that moment to have been put into Thomas' hands. She watched as he shuffled a few papers about. He handed her a fountain pen for herself and he cleared his throat.
"A lot of this is just legal mumbo-jumbo. I'll do my best to keep it curt but clear," Thomas told her. Slowly, he lowered the tip of his pen to the first paper on the list, "With your signature on this form, you're agreeing to allow Iron and Tooth Publishing to publish and market your work. As the author, you'll retain all rights. We aren't interested in buying or taking that off of you. Whatever you write will be promoted and marketed by us, but we won't own any of it. Just sign here," Rose did as she was told, "Good, good," Thomas flipped the page over to the next one, "This one is your official contract. For the next five years, you're agreeing that any and all writings of yours will be promised to Iron and Tooth Publishing to market. I need your intials here and your signature at the bottom."
Rose felt a jolt of excitement rush through her as she daintily signed her name across the bottom. This contract was a promise to her. That for the next five years, she was guaranteed to have honest and open feedback on her work. They might not publish everything, but she was pleased to know someone would always have eyes to look at it. It was goodbye to the slush pile for the next five years. She pressed her free hand to her belly as wrote out the last of her name.
"This is just a page confirming that rights will be attained under your legal name, Rose Dawson, and payment will always be served to you and only you," Thomas explained, pointing to where Rose needed to sign. Quickly, she scribbled across it and he turned the page again in the portfolio, "This is a no contest form. You don't sue us and we don't sue you. We always work things out in a proper business format."
Jack set their coffees on the island. Thomas grinned and reached for it, "Thank you, Mr. Dawson. I sincerely appreciate it."
"Just call me Jack," He replied, leaning against the counter while holding his own mug.
"Curious question, this has nothing to do with the meeting at hand," Thomas sat up straight, looking towards Jack, "I'm sure you get asked this all the time, but... are you in any way related to the Boston Dawson's?"
Jack smiled at the question and withheld a laugh. He took his time sipping his coffee before he finally shook his head, "No relation. My family sprouts from Wisconsin and just a bit north beyond the border."
"Ah, it was worth asking," Thomas chuckled at himself, "It's just not a name you see every day," He turned his eyes towards Rose, "What was your maiden name?"
"Oh," Rose seemed rather surprised by the question, but did everything she could to mask it. She lowered her coffee mug, her slender fingers nervously running along the rim, "It was... it was Barnes," She said, throwing a fleeting glance towards Jack, who seemed amused, "Nothing fancy. Just Rose Barnes."
"Rose Dawson has a better ring to it," Thomas nudged her playfully. He then cleared his throat, "Sorry for the delay. Curiosity always kills the cat, huh?" He laughed at himself once more before he tapped his pen to the paper, "Back to focus... actually our next topic is rather in the same vein," Thomas sipped his coffee and cradled his head in his hand, looking at Rose, "Your published name. Some people publish under their legal name, some choose a pen name. Which would you like to do, Rose?"
Rose's eyes hovered over the page for a second. She hesitated, setting her coffee mug on the island. She tapped her fingernails to counter top, running what felt like every possible scenario through her mind. She looked to Jack for a moment before she shook her head and licked her slips slowly, "To be honest, I hadn't thought about that," She said, looking at Thomas, "But I actually would rather not publish under my real name."
"Okay," Thomas nodded, quickly checking a few boxes and scribbling furiously, "Did you have a different name in mind?"
"No," Rose sighed, "I'm sorry. I hadn't been brainstorming anything."
"Not uncommon," Thomas assured her with a smile, "We just will need it by the last week of July, so we can print the book cover, alright? Until then, start thinking. Hey, you might even come up with a great baby name, too."
They barrelled through the next pages quite easily. Thomas did a short concise explaination and Rose signed without hesitation. They slowly nibbled off the fresh fruit Jack had served. Jack lingered in the kitchen the entire time, watching with pride as Rose signed all her documents. She was turning into a real author right before his eyes and he couldn't help but think how beautiful it was to see. She was sprouting her wings, finally, after breaking out of her cocoon.
"That's everything," Thomas triumphantly declared after Rose lifted her pen from the paper, "We're going to start proof reading and sending you our ideas of what to keep and what to cut. We'll get it trimmed down to a good size and then the real fun begins: Designing, publishing, and hitting the shelves. You have a lot to look forward to for the rest of this year, Rose."
She couldn't help but blush madly at the idea. Her cheeks radiated with warmth and she nodded at Thomas, "Thank you again. Thanks isn't even enough."
"Pleasure is all mine," Thomas told her, taking her hand into his, "I've been in this business for decades, Rose, and accepting a new author and seeing that same smile you have on over and over again... well, it's why I call this the dream business. Again, the pleasure really is mine."
"I just never thought this would happen in a million years," Rose laughed, nearly embarrassed.
"Well, with the way you write, it was bound to happen before that," Thomas guffawed loudly and began packing all his things into his briefcase, "We'll be in contact, Rose. Until then, brainstorm your pen name. Oh! I almost forgot," Thomas grinned, lowering his briefcase to his side, "I wanted to invite you two to my fourth of July party at my beach house in Coney Island. Hell, bring some friends, too. There will be live music, lots of great food, the beach, and, of course, fireworks. Rose, this would be great for you. A lot of authors will be there. Let me write the address down for you," Quickly, he hunched over and scribbled it off, handing it towards Rose, "And please, bring some friends. The more the merrier," He grinned politely between Jack and Rose, "I'll let myself out. I have a train to catch. Good day!"
...
July 4th, 1914
New York City, New York
As Jack and Rose left their house that evening, they were pleasantly surprised to see the neighborhood was coming alive as the sky became stained in light blues, pinks, yellows, and oranges. There wasn't a cloud in the sky, which meant the fireworks would be great everywhere. A group of boys on bicycles wheeled by, already wielding sparklers. They hooted and hollered, weaving between each other, as they took the downhill curve of the neighborhood road. Next door, Rose and Jack returned a wave to Mr. and Mrs. Finnian, the parents of two rowdy twin boys. Mrs. Finnian was smoothing a linen over their picnic table while her husband trimmed the hedges lining their walkway. In the empty driveway were two discarded bikes tangled up in each other. Jack spotted the two blond boys squatted down in the yard, playing with a lighter their father gave them for the festivities. Across the street, Mrs. Sawz and her teenage daughter were hanging American flag banners along the bushes lined beneath the picture window of their living room.
The couple steered out of their neighborhood and began down the road, in the general direction of the train station. They had one stop to make, however, and that was the studio. Jack had invited Frenchie and Iris. He figured it'd be good to get them out into a like-minded crowd. As they strode down the sidewalk, Rose glanced at her dress. She rubbed at the creases in the silken fabric, trying to get it flat along her belly. She tugged at the grey collar and let out a huff.
"What's wrong?" Jack asked, looking towards her.
"Oh, nothing," Rose replied, clearly flustered, "I'm just regretting this dress choice like I knew I would. I tried on nearly six different dresses today and I wasn't pleased with how any of them looked on me. I'm huge and every dress accentuates that."
Jack couldn't help himself from grinning. He stared forward at the approaching curve where they would take a right for the studio, "You're not huge. Quit sayin' that. You're pregnant, Rose. This is what happens. Nobody is judging you for being fat. Besides, I think you look quite nice," He wrapped his around her waist as they made it to the street corner.
"You have to say that," Rose laughed, huddling against him as they walked, "No woman I've ever met has been this large. Well, they were still able to fit into corsets, at least," Rose shrugged, "There's no fixing this bump with a corset."
"You don't even own a corset," Jack replied, "And I don't ever want to see one hangin' in our closet, got it?"
"Yes, sir," Rose said, flashing him a goofy smile.
"You won't have this stomach in a few weeks," Jack told her, "It'll all be over soon. Watch, the baby will get bigger and you'll miss this," He grinned as he placed his palm flat to her stomach, "I'll bet you'll want to do this again."
"Let's see how delivery goes," Rose replied, "Then we'll re-evaluate."
"Everything will be fine," Jack said confidently, "I won't let anything happen to you, I promise. Someone knowledgeable will be there who has seen it all. There won't be anything out of the ordinary," He bent his head down, gently kissing her on the temple, "Don't worry about a thing. Just leave it all to me, okay?"
Rose stopped walking and Jack quickly rooted in place, wrapping his arms around her, "I know you'll do everything you can, Jack," She told him, gently grazing her fingers along his arms, "But these things are unpredictable."
"You know, I had a hunch you were already getting worried about this," Jack tightened his hold around Rose, "And actually, I've already talked to a few people."
"You have?" Rose's eyes lit up in surprise.
"When I first found out you were pregnant, I laid all my money out in front of me," Jack said, a gentle breeze blowing his blond bangs across his forehead, "And I counted all of it. I put some aside. One of those stacks I put aside was to pay for a mid-wife. One that could live with us in the days leading up to the birth and at least the next few days after. And I secured one. She had rave reviews and has been in the business for over ten years. She'll be coming to stay with us at the end of July."
"Wow... I just... Really?" Rose stammered, "Jack, I'm so surprised. Honestly, I didn't think we could afford something like that at the moment. An actual mid-wife? That's great. I just thought we'd ask the old woman down the street."
"Mrs. Barnabee?" Jack furrowed his brow.
"She's seen a thing or two in her life, I just know it," Rose burst out laughing now. Jack smiled as he watched her shoulders bob, her cheeks growing red, "I just can't believe it. What's her name?"
"Annette Brown."
...
Coney Island, New York
It wasn't a far train ride to Coney Island. Maybe just a little under an hour. Frenchie was dressed in a black beret and black suit with a crisp white cotton button up and a grey silken tie. Iris opted for a long sleeve dark red dress with gold trimming and a waist band. They both seemed rather eager for the social. Iris told them it had been nearly a decade since either of them had gone to Coney Island. The brakes of the train began to squeal, kicking steam up as the train slid into the station. It was equally as beautiful an evening as it was in New York City. The smell of the salty air, the squawk of the seagulls, the waving of palm trees, and the sound of the ocean only added to it.
It was hopping in Coney Island. Many ice cream parlors and milkshake bars were packed to the boot with many more spilling out on the sidewalks and curbs to enjoy their treat. Outdoor patio restaraunts and bars were nearly overflowing and the sound of music came from all directions. The beaches running adjacent to the walk paths were dotted with many people. Several heads could be found bobbing in the ocean for one last dip before the sun set.
The group of four slowly pushed through the herds of people. The further they walked, the more the crowds thinned out. As they made it around a long curve, the foot traffic significantly dropped, but more sleek and shiny black cars began to take up the road. The houses around them grew larger and more ornate the further they walked. Rose continually glanced to the slip of paper Thomas had given to her, slowly counting the numbers as they passed.
"Right here," Rose said, pointing to a dark grey brick house with white trimming and shutters. Many nice cars were parked along the curb and lined the round driveway that featured a statue with angel pouring a pot of water from her shoulder, "Number Five Fifty-Seven."
Frenchie let out a low whistle, digging his hands into his pockets, "It's a nice place. What does he do for a living again?"
"He's the owner and chief editor for the publishing company I write for," Rose replied, her eyes glued to the tall magnificent house. Just beyond the sheer white curtains of the first floor, she could see a number of people bobbing past.
"Well, we should get in there," Jack said, looking amongst his group, "Let's all have a good time."
"This fourth of July will be a good one. I promise, brother," Frenchie pressed his hand to Jack's shoulder as he brushed past him and began leading the group between the cars and to the front door. Rose curtly knocked on the door. There were a few beats between before the tall oak door swung open and a woman in a white and yellow formal dress with dark brown hair answered. She grinned as she looked amongst the decently dressed assortment of young people, but when her eyes laid on Rose, they lit up.
"Are you Mrs. Dawson?" She asked.
"You can just call me Rose," She replied with a friendly grin.
"Thomas told me to be on the look-out for a woman with bright red hair! He certainly wasn't exaggerating about it's beauty," The woman laughed daintly, pressing her manicured fingers that were covered in rings to her collarbone, "I'm Thomas' wife, Nadia. It's a pleasure, Rose."
"Oh, yes," Rose sprung forward to shake her hand, "The pleasure is all mine, Nadia. Thank you for having us at your party."
"Oh, nonsense!" Nadia waved her hand dismissively, "We love hosting people. The pleasure is ours, really. Why don't you all come in and get a drink? There's plenty to eat, too. Rose, Thomas is out on the promenade. He'd really love to see you!"
"Okay, great," Rose grinned. She glanced to Jack with a hopeful face before she led the group in through the doors. The house was absolutely stunning and beautiful. It was an attestment to what modern housing was beginning to shape up to be. The floors were made of hand-laid marble tiles with smooth grouting in between. Many decadent and Asian-looking rugs covered the floors. There were lounge chairs and big fluffy couches arranged around the open foyer, accomodating dozens of people with relaxing places to sit, smoke, drink, and chat. A gleaming oak spiral staircase lead upstairs to who knew how many rooms. Just beyond that was a large, almost industrial kitchen. Thomas and Nadia had hired professionals chefs who zipped around the kitchen, pushing many appetizers of devilled eggs, sasuages and cheeses, across the counter for hired help to deliver around the social atmosphere. It was instantly charming and coaxing to Jack, Rose, Iris, and Frenchie, as they entered.
"Like I said, help yourself," Nadia folded her hands together politely, "Whatever you need, don't hesitate to ask. There's a bar on the back porch. Any drink you'd like, we can make it."
"Wow, thank you so much," Jack said, shaking his head in near astonishment.
"I'm going to find Thomas out back," Rose told him as Nadia was drawn into a nearby group for a big laugh. She seemed like a delightful host.
"Well, that's where the bar is, so I'm following you," Jack grinned, giving her a nudge to lead the way. He glanced over his shoulder towards Iris and Frenchie. The siblings had already been drawn into observing a large landscape photo of a rose garden that was displayed above a large white couch. Jack grinned, They'll be fine.
Jack and Rose stepped through a large doorway that was easily eight feet tall. The french doors were left open to welcome the cooling summer breeze. Just beyond the decadent large porch was a garden with an in-ground pool in the center. Beyond that, a gate had been left open at the far end of the garden, which spilled out onto the white-sand beach. The ocean looked beautiful bathed in the golden evening light. It seemed many attendants of the party were slowly drifting down towards the beach. It was breath taking. Jack and Rose took a moment to gaze over it together.
"Rose Dawson!" Came a familiar bellow. The couple's head snapped towards the direction of comfortable patio furniture situated in a circle around a steel burn pit that already had a fire roaring in it. Amongst the well-dressed men and women stood Thomas, raising a martini glass, "There you are! I've been waiting for you, darlin'! Grab yourself a drink and join us!"
"What do you want?" Jack asked, gently touching her arm, "I'll get it for you."
"Something fruity," Rose told him, "I'll just before over here."
"Go knock 'em dead," Jack said before gently kissing her temple and disappearing into the crowd gravitating towards the open bar. Rose nervously smoothed her dress again and slowly approached the social circle. All eyes turned on her and she suddenly felt warm in her short sleeve dress. She could feel performance anxiety blossoming in the pit of her stomach. She worried about every word she would speak tonight. And felt ever so self-conscious of her large state.
"Rose, come on, sit down right here beside me. There's plenty of room!" Thomas gently pat the cushion beside him. He seemed very relaxed, not at all wound-up like he was at work. Rose could only guess he was a few martinis in. Hesitantly, she squeezed between two men sitting in garden chairs and she plopped down beside Thomas, folding her hands into her lap. The fire in the pit reached her skin and felt nice. Nervously, she looked between each unfamiliar face, but they seemed welcoming nonetheless, which calmed her nerves a bit.
"This is who I was tellin' you about, with the new novel," Thomas told them, popping the olive from his nearly empty martini into his mouth. He smacked loudly, without shame, "Her new novel is going to be called The Greater Heights. Lemme tell ya, I'm glad this girl came across my desk, because damn, she can write. We've pitched only the general plot outline and have received dozens of orders from book stores all over the East Coast. I'm thinkin' we can make it all the way to California with her!"
"Oh, Thomas, there's no need to boast about me," Rose shook her head, "Let's talk about someone or something else," She suggested, glancing around the circle of people, "I'm sure you've all done amazing things."
"No, no," Thomas was already chuckling as he waved his hands at the people surrounding him, "Just a gaggle of publishers and editors like me who just make money off the creative. Only creative thing we're doin' is decorating our office."
Everyone in the group broke out into laughs, shifting about in their chairs, and sipping their drinks with big grins. All their eyes were on Thomas, who seemed to be the man in charge of the dream works. A waitress came by to collect everyone's empty drinks and soon returned with fresh ones. Thomas took a sip of his martini and grinned at Rose.
"I might as well introduce you, Rose. It's always great to have contacts in the business," He turned his attention towards the group of people, "She's mine for the next five years, boys, sorry to disappoint you. Rose, here to my left is Mr. Richard Crows. He is the chief editor of Windsor Publishing Co. Next to him is Mrs. Sharon Ferris, lead editor for Yates and Rebarb Publishing Co.," Slowly, Thomas ran around the circle. Rose did mental olympics to solidfy each name spoken to her.
"So, Rose," A man by the name of Peter Jones grinned at her, stirring his drink in his lap, "Any ideas for the next novel?"
"Oh, just a few," Rose replied modestly, "I'm hoping to start writing again in fall."
"Yes, congratulations," Melody Bringer said, raising her cocktail, "Not only have you made yourself into an author, Rose, you've also been awarded the title of mother."
"Still sounds rather foreign to me," Rose told them, earning chuckles from those gathered, "It certainly was unexpected, that's for sure."
"We'll all be waiting for the birth announcement," Richard Crows said politely, "We all send our best regards. Not to mention, we're all rather eager to read your novel. How is it that Thomas always manages to get the bright and fresh new talent in all of New York?"
"Now, now," Thomas piped up, lowering his martini glass, "This one was handed to me."
"Oh, by whom, Thomas?" Melody Bringer smirked from behind her drink.
"None other than the fine Mr. Timothy Calvert."
"Oh, that dashing lawyer?" Sharon Ferris nearly huffed melodramatically, "How is it he did so much work for all of you, but I was never able to get him into my defense division!"
"Gotta know people in high places, I suppose," Richard Crows grinned mischeviously beside his pouting colleague, "He doesn't work for me anymore."
"Oh! Maybe his schedule isn't so booked anymore."
"He moved to Maryland," Thomas told her. Sharon Ferris threw her hands up in mock resignation.
"And so I will never be graced by Mr. Calvert's gentle lawyer touch."
"Sharon, are you talking about your business or yourself at this point?" Melody Bringer almost laughed.
"Oh, I know I'm not the only woman in this circle whose been enraptured by those hazel eyes and dark unkempt hair," Sharon Ferris held her nose in the air, all the while sipping her martini. Rose shifted, nearly uncomfortably, in her seat.
"Then why don't you go tell him how you feel?" Melody Bringer bellowed with a laugh, "He's right over there, speaking with Mr. Harrison Gotz."
Rose felt her heart nearly beat to a stop. Chairs and wicker benches creaked as everyone began craning their necks and gazing through the waves of people. Rose hesitantly looked over her shoulder and spotted Tim nearly instantly. He was speaking with an elderly gentleman who supported himself with a cane made of ivory. Tim was holding a crystal tumbler filled half-way with golden whiskey. He was grinning politely, bobbing back and forth as he listened to the man speak. He was dressed nicely again. To Rose, it was earth shaking to suddenly find him here.
"Rose, come with me, darling," Sharon leapt to her feet and carefully weaved between everyone's legs, "Come on, dear. Come help me break the ice with Mr. Calvert."
Quickly, Rose popped to her feet and followed Sharon from the circle. Rose and Sharon bumped into Jack who had a whiskey for himself. He handed a green apple martini out to Rose who quite liked the taste of it. Rose explained in passing to Jack where and what she was doing. He seemed rather confused but after a moment, he shrugged it off, and gravitated towards a circle that Frenchie had joined. Sharon squared her shoulders and glanced to Rose.
"You know the man, right?" Sharon asked.
"Yes," Rose nodded, watching as the woman smoothed her dress and straightened her back, "We used to work together."
"I know you're married, but how could you stand to be in the same room as that man without gawking at him or running your fingers through those dark locks?"
"He's uh..." Rose found herself trailing off as Tim broke away from Mr. Gotz. His eyes had met her's and he remained where he was, with the last of the golden evening light bathing all over him, "He wasn't really my type," Rose finally told Sharon, never tearing her eyes away from him.
...
Soon enough, night time was alive in Coney Island. Distantly, the booms of small fireworks echoed from piers and backyards. Occassionally, large fireworks exploded in the sky, drawing everyone's attention for a few fleeting moments. Everyone awaited the city's fireworks show. They were all rather eager, but occupied themselves with free-flowing booze and small appetizers on toothpicks. Jack and Rose stood at the railing of the back deck, gazing down towards the ocean and watching couples weave through the dark garden, finding corners light did not illuminate. Another firework went off overhead and the couple raised their eyes, watching the green fizzle and dissipate into the inky dark sky. It nearly reminded them of their time on Titanic, but neither of them brought it up.
"I've met a lot of great people," Rose told Jack, taking a curt sip of her drink through a slender straw.
"Yeah, I saw," Jack grinned, whirling his crystal tumbler in his hand, "You were charming them, just like I knew you would," Jack lowered his eyes for a moment as another firework went off. Rose admired the way the explosion illuminated his silky skin, "Congratulations, Rose," He told her as he draped his arm around her shoulder, "I'm really proud of you."
"Thank you," She said softly. She cocked her head to look into his blue eyes. Gently, her slender fingers grazed his stubbly cheek, "I love you."
Another firework went off, making Rose's porcelain skin glitter, "I love you, too," Jack told her once the thunderous boom had resounded. They leaned in to meet each other's lips tenderly and slowly. Jack and Rose were beginning to forget about everyone around them. They were melting into their own little world together. But suddenly, Jack's attention was drawn over the railing, to a garden bench that two people occupied. Jack squinted for a moment, watching the couple kiss in the shadows. Jack grinned mischeviously for a moment until the fireworks went off, illuminating the duo.
"Is that Iris... kissing Tim?"