ROSE DAWSON: REBORN FOR THE BETTER
Chapter Thirteen

January 15, 1913

Rose waddled down the street, her footing precarious as she avoided icy patches. The baby was due any day, and Luke hadn’t wanted her to go out, but there hadn’t been much left in the icebox, so she had slipped out to the market, intending to be gone only a short time.

She hadn’t counted on how slowly she would have to walk to avoid the patches of ice. She couldn’t afford to slip and fall—not so close to the birth of her baby. Her enormous middle made walking harder, too, slowing her further, and the trip back from the market, weighed down with bags of food, made her wish she had taken Luke’s advice. He would have driven her to the market when he came home from work, or gone there himself, if she had asked. Certainly, it would have been easier than walking there and back.

Rose put a hand on her stomach as another pain moved through it, tightening her muscles and seeming to press down on the baby. The pains had been coming since the previous evening, so she hadn’t thought much about it. No one had explained what to expect when the baby came, so she was only beginning to realize that she was in labor—and she still hoped to get home before the pains became more intense.

She pulled her coat tighter around herself as a gust of wind blew her hood back. The sky had been clear and blue, with the clouds on the distant horizon, when she had set out three hours earlier, but the storm had blown in more quickly than she expected. Even as she moved slowly down the street, snow swirled around her, making her shiver violently.

Only three more blocks, she told herself, clutching the bags tighter and forging ahead, only to stagger precariously as her foot slipped on a patch of ice. She steadied herself, her heart pounding.

It was after dark now, and the storm grew stronger with every passing minute. She steadied herself against a light pole, looking around in hopes of seeing a cab, but the street was almost deserted. Few people wanted to go out in the storm and dark.

She bent forward as another pain lanced through her, clutching her middle. Three blocks had never seemed so long, and she wished more than anything that she had followed Luke’s advice and stayed home. So what if there wasn’t much food in the apartment? There was enough for the night, and they could have taken the car to a restaurant if none of the food at home appealed to them.

Rose sighed, letting go of the light pole and stumbling on through the darkness. The snow swirled around her, dimming the streetlights. But she had to get home, so she forged ahead, moving slowly through the storm.

After the third time she had to stop to wait for a contraction to pass, Rose was getting frantic. She was still two blocks from home, and the pains were growing closer together and stronger. It was growing harder to walk, with the snow piling on the ground, and she was freezing. She had to get home—Luke was undoubtedly home from work by now, and he would be worried. He’d be angry with her for endangering herself, but he’d forgive her, and get her a doctor or take her to the hospital.

Maybe, she thought hopefully, he was looking for her right now, driving through the streets looking for her. She had left a note saying where she was going, in case he got home early, so he would know where to look.

Rose groaned as another contraction began, stumbling toward a bench next to a high fence. She would rest for just a few minutes, and then move on.

As she pushed a pile of snow from the bench, she was surprised by a sudden gush of warm fluid. She stared down at the puddle between her feet, the fluid turning quickly to ice. Forgetting about the snow, she sat down, drawing her legs up and clutching her middle.

She was out of time. The baby was coming, and she didn’t have the strength to keep going. Setting her frozen bags of food beside her, she clutched her skirts, the amniotic fluid already frozen in the fabric, stiffening it and chilling her further.

*****

At that moment, another figure slowly made her way down the icy street, coming home from a long, grueling day working in a sweatshop, sewing the fine dresses she had once worn herself. Ruth DeWitt Bukater paused, startled, at the sight of the hunched figure curled up on the bench. What was someone doing out in this storm? Ruth had been there long enough to know that there were abandoned buildings where the homeless often stayed at such times, if they couldn’t find other shelter. Even a doorway would be better now.

She started to walk past when the woman curled on the bench looked up and gasped, "Help me. Please."

Ruth stopped, looking at the wrapped, hunched figure. She knew that voice, even laced with pain and teeth chattering from the bitter cold.

"Rose?"

Rose was startled. Who was this? Then, looking closer, she realized who it was. "Mother!"

"Rose, what are you doing out here? Where have you been? We thought you were dead!"

"Mother, help me. Please. I’m having a baby. I need to get home. It’s only two blocks away—I just need some help...what are you doing here?"

"Never mind that." Ruth helped her up. "I’ll explain later. Where do you live?"

Rose pointed, leaning on her mother for support. Ruth helped her along, holding her up when Rose slipped on the ice. Her daughter was panting, clutching her stomach every few minutes.

Ruth did the best she could, but she wasn’t terribly strong. She had always been slender, and the job she had been forced to take after Rose’s disappearance didn’t allow her to buy much food. Together, the two women slowly made their way to the next corner, within sight of Rose’s apartment building.

Rose slipped again, clutching her mother for support, despairing of even getting to the building, let alone inside and home. She stumbled a few more steps, her legs threatening to buckle.

"Rose!" Ruth caught her, holding her shaking daughter upright. "Rose, you have to keep going. I can’t carry you."

"I know, Mother. I—" Rose stopped, turning in surprise. "Hope! What...how did you know I was here? Did Luke contact you somehow?" She couldn’t imagine how. Hope had no telephone—but maybe Luke had driven to her apartment and enlisted her help in finding Rose.

"Don’t worry, Rose," Hope told her. "He’s waiting for you, along with the doctor. I told him to call the doctor before I went to get you."

"How did you know I needed a doctor?" Rose asked, surprised but relieved.

Hope just smiled secretively. "Women’s intuition," she told Rose. When Rose started to ask another question, she hushed her. "I’ll tell you later. Right now, we need to get you home." She nodded to Ruth, and each woman put one of Rose’s arms on her shoulders, helping her down the street.

*****

They made it back to the apartment, and none too soon. Rose collapsed as they helped her in the door, falling to her knees on the carpeted floor. She shook her head wearily as Hope and Ruth helped her up, assisted by the doctor. When Rose looked as though she would fall again, Luke picked her up, carrying her into their bedroom and laying her on the bed.

"Rose." His voice was tense, anger mixed with relief. "Whatever possessed you to go out in this storm? Don’t you know how dangerous it is?"

Rose might have snapped back at him, but she was too tired, and she knew that his anger was only out of concern for her.

"I didn’t think it would take so long, and the sky was blue when I left. The storm blew in faster than I expected."

"But why did you go out in the first place? It’s so cold, and you’re so close to having the baby."

"I went to the market," Rose explained weakly. "We were almost out of food."

"And you couldn’t have waited for me, or called a cab? You could have killed yourself and the baby, going out like that."

"I didn’t know, all right?" Rose snapped, her temper roused. She started to sit up, but stopped as another contraction knifed through her. "Luke..."

"I’m going to get the doctor." He hurried to the door, then paused. "Rose, I’m not trying to restrict you. I know you would never stand for that. I just don’t want anything to happen to you."

"I know." Her eyes softened. "I love you, Luke."

"I love you, too, Rose. I just hope you’ll be all right."

*****

The birth was short and swift. Rose lay in the bed, panting and crying out with each contraction that lanced through her, bearing down and working to bring her child into the world.

Ruth and Hope stayed with her, though Luke waited in the parlor, pacing restlessly, as the doctor had made it clear that he was unwelcome at a birth. He permitted the two women to stay, though, particularly after they both proved to be stubborn and immovable.

Ruth talked to Rose between contractions, telling her what had happened since she had disappeared and finding out how Rose had come to be newly married and living in New York City.

"Mother," Rose began. "You never did tell me how you wound up here in New York. What were you doing on the street on a night like this?"

"Well, Rose," Ruth started. "You were right about Cal. When he found no sign of you on the Carpathia, he told me that with no marriage to come, he no longer had any obligation to me. I haven’t seen him since. When we reached New York, I didn’t even have enough money for a train ticket to Philadelphia. I had to stay in a shelter in New York until I found work." She paused. "Everything is gone, Rose. All of our possessions, everything that mattered to me. And I’d lost my daughter, too. I didn’t know what to do, so I finally found work as a seamstress in a crowded, dirty factory making the very dresses I once spent so much on. I learned very quickly what life was like for those less fortunate. I only hope that your life has been better."

Rose closed her eyes, waiting for a contraction to end. When she opened them, she said, "I’m sorry, Mother. If I’d known..."

"You would have married Cal?"

Rose shook her head. "No. I wouldn’t have married him. But I would have made sure you had a home, and enough food to eat, and clothes to wear. My life hasn’t been bad. I moved in with Hope just after the Carpathia docked, and found out that I was pregnant soon after."

Ruth hesitated. "The baby...is it your husband’s, or..."

"It’s Jack’s, Mother. I met Luke last June, in Central Park. We were married last month."

Ruth looked at Rose for a moment, her eyes disapproving. Then she sighed.

"Didn’t I warn you about that boy, Rose? He caused you nothing but heartache. I suppose he left as soon as he knew about the baby, or as soon as he learned that you had no money."

Rose looked at her mother, tears shining in her eyes. "It wasn’t that way at all, Mother. Jack didn’t leave me—not in the usual sense of the word. He died in the sinking—but not before he made me promise to go on." She didn’t tell Ruth about Jack’s visits since. Rose knew she wouldn’t understand.

"Rose..." Ruth hesitated again. "I’m sorry. I know you felt strongly about him."

"I loved him, Mother. At least I had a chance to tell him before he died. We would have been together, had he lived."

"Rose...I don’t know what to say..."

"Don’t say anything, Mother. It’s over and done. He’s gone...and I’m alive. And so is our baby."

She quieted as the doctor bent over her, checking the baby’s progress once again. "Not much longer," he assured her. "It’s almost here."

Rose looked at the clock by her bedside. Three hours had passed since she had come home. It seemed an eternity to her, but Hope had already told her how quickly the birth was progressing. Hope’s son had taken much longer to be born.

A short time later, she was ready to give birth. Squeezing her eyes shut, crying out in pain, she bore down, determined to bring her baby into the world. She hardly noticed that both Ruth and Hope were holding her hands, not objecting when she squeezed their hands against her own pain.

The delivery was quick. Fifteen minutes after she had begun to push in earnest, one last push succeeded in expelling the child from her body. She pushed herself up, wanting to see her newborn.

There was silence for a moment before the baby, shocked at being suddenly brought into the cold, bright room, began to wail, flailing its little arms and legs.

Rose gave a sob of relief, her mind at ease at last. Her long walk in the storm hadn’t hurt the baby at all. She held out her arms, holding the baby close when the doctor handed it to her.

She cradled the naked, squalling infant, noting that Jack had been right. The baby was a girl. She was tiny but perfect, her tiny mouth open as she announced her presence, her thin red-blonde hair plastered to her head. She looked like both of them. Josephine Dawson Calvert was the most beautiful child Rose had ever seen.

After the doctor had taken care of Rose and cleaned up and examined the baby, he left to announce the birth to Luke. Rose and Luke had already agreed that, for Josephine’s sake, they would let people think that Rose was a widow, never saying a word about the baby’s illegitimate status. What did it matter, anyway? Josephine had not chosen the circumstances of her conception or of her birth, and Rose had no regrets.

*****

After the doctor left, Ruth retired for the night, overwhelmed by what she had just seen. Luke had insisted that she not go back out in the storm, and had directed her to the extra bedroom in the apartment. Now, he sat beside Rose, holding her newborn daughter, already loving her as though she were his own.

Hope still sat on the other side of the bed, watching the three family members. At last, she stood, knowing that her work was done.

"Good-bye, Rose," she told her, coming to stand beside her.

"Oh, Hope, you don’t have to leave. Wait until morning, at least. I don’t think Mother will object to sharing the extra room with you."

Hope shook her head, her eyes full of something that Rose did not understand. "No. I have to go now. It’s time for me to go home."

Luke stood as well. "If you must leave, let me call you a cab. It’s too far, too cold, and too dark to be walking the streets."

Hope smiled, but shook her head. "Not that home. I won’t be going back there."

Rose looked at her, confused. "Hope, you’re not making any sense. Where will you be going? Did you move somewhere else?"

"In a manner of speaking. Rose...it’s not a place you can visit. Not now, anyway."

Rose stared at her, still confused. Then, she noticed the changes that had taken place in Hope.

Hope’s winter attire had given way to the clothing fashionable the previous spring. It was slightly tattered, and wet, though it did not drip on the floor. And an unearthly glow had come over her.

"Hope, what..."

"When the Titanic sank, you surfaced near to a woman who screamed for help, begging the boats to come back. When at last a boat did come back, she was floating in the water, frozen and lifeless. You were lucky enough to survive—but she was not."

Rose’s eyes widened, the implications sinking in. "My God...that...that was you," she whispered. "But you were there when the Carpathia docked, and all this time..."

"Jack Dawson knew that you would be on your own now, and that you would need some help. He couldn’t be there—it would be too hard, and would change the way things were supposed to happen—but I could. You didn’t know me, or anything about me. At his request, I left my husband and son for a time to help you. It gave me more time to live, more time to accept that I was no longer living. But I could only stay until you were ready to make it without our help. I’ve spoken to Jack frequently over the past few months, learning what I needed to do to push you toward your destiny, and telling him when the time was right that he could visit you in your dreams, when you were able to see him without being broken by the grief."

"He was there at the wedding," Rose told her, her fingers reaching to clutch the locket at her throat.

"Was he?" Hope smiled. "I didn’t see him, but I was sure he would be watching you on that day. He’s been watching over you since he died. He couldn’t stop until he was sure you would be all right."

Rose nodded, understanding so many things now...how Hope had always been there when she needed her, the way she had encouraged Rose and Luke to come together...and even the way she had suddenly appeared this night, helping Rose through the storm with no difficulty. For Hope had known when she was needed, had always kept an eye on Rose—and had helped her in fulfilling her promise to Jack.

"Hope..." Rose embraced her friend, ignoring the cold dampness of her clothes. "I...thank you...for everything. I wouldn’t have made it without you..."

"Yes, you would have," Hope whispered, hugging Rose back. "I was only here to ease your way. And now, I’m going back. I thank you...for giving me another chance to live, to do some good in this world before I left it forever. And, in time, we’ll meet again. But you have your own life to live now, your own family...and I have mine. Good-bye, Rose. Good-bye, Luke. Good luck to you both." Then, unable to resist having the last word, she added, "Good-bye, Josephine Hope. Someday, your mother will tell you about your father, and about the lady who helped her after he died."

She touched the infant’s cheek, then stepped away. And, as Rose and Luke looked on, she slowly faded away, her eyes looking beyond them to something they could not see.

When she was gone, Rose looked up at Luke, tears shining in her eyes. But in spite of her sorrow, she smiled, drawing him down to sit beside her.

"Hope...the name was fitting. She stayed...to give me hope...and to bring me to you."

"Or to bring me to you," Luke murmured, embracing Rose and the now-sleeping baby. "I saw her on the pier before I ever saw you—and tried to interview her. Of course, she wouldn’t grant me an interview, but she stayed nearby until you came up and shouted to me, mistaking me for Jack. That was when she moved in, waiting for you to run into her. It was all planned out—and I’m thankful for that, because without her, we would never have come together. Rose...I know that you’ll never forget Jack, but..."

"No, I’ll never forget him," Rose whispered, putting a hand to his face, "but I’m not going to spend my life pining away for him. He gave me the greatest gift a person can have—the gift of myself—and then led me to you. Thanks to him, I’m a whole person now, free to love and to be loved...and I love you, Luke Calvert. Jack will always be in my heart, but inside, hidden away with my memories." She smiled. "A woman’s heart is a deep ocean of secrets, Luke, capable of infinite, unending love. I’ve had two great loves in my life...and I’ve been truly blessed."

Epilogue
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