Two days later, Rose turned to Robert in puzzlement. The train seemed to be heading in the direction of Iowa, rather than California.
"Where are we going?" she asked him, somewhat suspiciously.
"Alaska, eventually."
"But where are we going now? This isn’t the way to California."
Robert looked a little sheepish. "I guess I forgot to tell you."
"Forgot to tell me what?"
"We’re making a slight detour."
Rose frowned. "To where?"
"Cedar Rapids, Iowa."
"Why, and what’s in Cedar Rapids?"
"I have some relatives there."
"You sure did forget to tell me."
He sighed. "All right. Let me explain."
"Go on."
"I’m originally from Cedar Rapids—that’s where my mother was from—and I was born there. I still have some cousins there. When my parents were traveling actors, they would sometimes take the opportunity to go there, and I knew my cousins growing up. However, I haven’t been back there since the summer of 1906, when I stopped there on the way east. Since we’re heading west anyway, I thought it would be a good idea to stop and see my cousins."
"You’ve mentioned being on your own after the San Francisco earthquake in 1906. What happened?"
"The earth shook."
"And?"
"The city burned down in places."
"And?"
"Our theater troupe was there—staying in a brick hotel."
"And it fell in?"
"Yes."
"So how did you get out?"
"I was sharing a room with my parents and little sister. She was seven, and afraid of the dark, monsters, dogs, and nightmares. She’d had a nightmare and was hiding under her bed, crying. Our folks were sleeping soundly, but I woke up and tried to talk her out from under her bed. She wouldn’t come out until I crawled under there with her and talked to her. She crawled out eventually, but I was too big, and I got stuck. I was trying to get out from under there when the earthquake struck. The building collapsed, but I was still safely under the bed. I got out before the fire came, but only five members of the troupe survived out of eleven. Unfortunately, my parents and sister weren’t among the survivors. I spent about three days on the streets of San Francisco—not an experience I really want to repeat. I left after that."
"Have you ever been back to San Francisco?"
"No."
"It looks much better now. I was there for a few months. My friend Deborah was injured in the earthquake—she’s in a wheelchair now—but her family survived. I’ll introduce you to them when we get to San Francisco."
"All right."
"Where did you go after you left San Francisco?"
"East, first with the remaining members of the theater troupe, and then, after the group split up, on my own. I spent the summer with my cousins in Iowa, and then took off on my own again. There’s a lot of interesting places out there. I finally settled down in New York City when I was eighteen and went to work for Norman Baker’s theater. After it burned down, I joined a friend from another theater and we went down to New Orleans and started acting there."
"And then you met up with me, and your play closed, and now you’re on your way to Alaska."
"Yeah. I guess I’m a bit of a wanderer."
Rose laughed. "You’re not the only one."
"No, I guess not. You’ve seen a lot of country, too." He gave her a teasing look. "You’ve even been on the Mauritania."
Rose gave him a look of mock annoyance. "And I’ve been to New York, and Boston, and Philadelphia, and Pittsburgh, and—"
"And New Orleans, and just about everywhere else, too."
"Not quite. I haven’t been to Antarctica yet."
"Well, I guess that’ll have to be our next stop after Alaska."
Rose looked at him, not sure if he was serious or not. The she laughed. "Let’s brave Alaska first. At there’s some civilization there."
"City girl."
"Wanderer."
They laughed, looking out the window as the train headed north towards Iowa.
*****
Robert and Rose arrived in Cedar Rapids after a couple more days. The train pulled into the station about mid-afternoon. They got off, Rose looking around curiously. She had spent time in the country before, but she had never been to Iowa.
Cedar Rapids was a small town, at least compared to many of the cities she had seen, but Robert told her that it was actually larger than many of the tiny Midwestern towns. It had a thriving cereal-processing industry, thanks to the large amount of farming done in the region, and was especially well-known for its oatmeal processing.
It was still early in the warming season for the area, but it was a sunny afternoon, and green grass and flowers were in evidence as they walked through the streets, looking for a hotel.
After they had found a place to stay, they left their belongings behind and walked towards the outskirts of town, where Robert’s relatives lived. Robert introduced her to his Aunt Nancy and his cousins Edith and Henry, and explained that his Uncle Roger was working in one of the mills. After they had visited for a while, they set out toward the home of his cousin George, who had married two years earlier.
George wasn’t home, but his wife, Celeste, welcomed them and invited them to stay until George returned home from work. She offered them coffee, and they talked about the happenings in Cedar Rapids since Robert had left. Robert was surprised by Celeste’s appearance—he remembered her as a skinny fourteen-year-old tomboy, but she’d grown up and married his cousin. He explained to Rose that Celeste had insisted upon tagging along after them when he and his cousin had gone roaming around the area as boys, and she had been capable of keeping up with them and even matching them in rough-housing. They all laughed when he related a story about the time he and George had caught a snake, planning upon scaring her with it—only to be surprised when Celeste showed up with an even bigger snake that she had caught herself.
Roger arrived home around 6:30, and Rose and Celeste stared as the two thumped each other on the back and yelled raucously. George was twenty-four, a year older than Robert, and both still acted like children when the opportunity presented itself.
Robert and Rose stayed for dinner, and left around eight o’clock to return to their hotel. Though they had shared an apartment in New Orleans, Robert had gotten separate rooms for them in the hotel, because certain behaviors that might be overlooked in a large city would be frowned upon in a small Midwestern town.
Robert seemed unusually nervous as they walked back to the hotel. Rose asked him what was on his mind, but he told her to wait and find out. Rose looked at him strangely.
When they reached the hotel, Robert looked around to be sure that no one was watching, and then ushered Rose into his room. Rose wondered what he had in mind.
He paced back and forth nervously for a moment before turning to her. Rose sat on the edge of his bed, watching him calmly.
"Rose..." he began. He cleared his throat and tried again. "Rose, we’ve known each other for quite a while..."
Rose nodded, puzzled. He went on.
"We’ve even lived together, and worked together, and now we’re traveling together..."
"Yes. What’s this all about?"
"Well, I...I’ve told you before that I love you..."
"Yes?"
"Well, what do you say?"
"About what?"
He slapped his forehead. "I knew I’d mess this up."
"Mess what up?" Rose was growing ever more confused.
He pulled a small box from his pocket. "Rose, I was wondering if you would do me the honor of becoming my wife," he spoke in rush, relieved to have the words out.
Rose stared at him in surprise. She couldn’t have been more astonished if he had suggested that they fly to Alaska. The thought of marriage had never occurred to her. A rush of emotions ran through her—love, fear, regret, sorrow, uncertainty...
"Robert, I—" She stopped as he opened the box, revealing a gold ring with a small aquamarine.
"I know it’s not the fanciest thing in the world, but..."
"It’s lovely," Rose interrupted him. She clutched her skirt nervously. "Robert, I..." She stopped, thinking.
She loved him, she really did, but was she ready for marriage? She remembered her close escape from marriage to Cal, and how terrified she had been that he would find her and force her into the marriage. Of course, Robert was nothing like Cal. Where Cal had been cruel and brutal, Robert was loving and kind. People liked Robert for himself, not for his fortune, as they had with Cal.
She thought of Jack, and the few days they had had together—the most wonderful days of her life. It should have been Jack asking her for her hand in marriage, but it wasn’t. It never would be.
She thought of her mother, of her mother’s stunned face as Rose had turned and run back down the aisle at her wedding to Cal. She remembered how her mother had counted upon Rose’s marriage to Cal to solve their financial problems, and how Rose had decided that it wasn’t worth it.
She thought of Richard, and of Marietta, and of all the things she had done that Robert didn’t know about. And then she thought of Robert himself, and the joy that she found in his presence, and she thought of the future they could have together.
And with that, Rose made up her mind. She looked at Robert.
"Yes," she said. "Yes, Robert, I will marry you."
Robert smiled and slipped the ring on her finger.