Robert and Rose left Cedar Rapids two days later, after Robert had visited with all of his relatives and introduced his fiancée. Rose shocked several of them by dyeing her hair back to red the afternoon before they left.
At last, they boarded the train and headed west again, this time going straight towards California. Rose was quiet that morning, her thoughts turned inward.
She had initially been amused at the Calverts’ reaction to her dyeing her hair, but their shock forced her to face the reality of what she was doing. She and Robert came from two different worlds. If his family had been so shocked by a simple change of appearance, what would Robert think if he knew her for who she really was?
Rose gazed out the window, remembering all the events that had brought her to this moment. She had done some things that she regretted, that she was sorry for, and some of the things she didn’t regret were still looked down upon by society.
Rose sighed inwardly, knowing that the time had come to tell Robert about at least part of her past. She couldn’t comfortably enter into marriage with him without him knowing where she had been and what she had done. If her past was discovered, it could destroy both of them, and she couldn’t live a lie.
Rose turned to Robert. His head rested against the back of the seat as he dozed, snoring softly. Rose shook his arm.
"Not now, Mom," he mumbled, pushing her hand away.
Ordinarily, Rose would have laughed, but she was too anxious about his response to even smile. "Robert," she hissed, shaking his shoulder. "Wake up! We need to talk."
"Huh? What?" He opened his eyes, looking at her blearily. "Oh, Rose. What did you say?"
"I said, we need to talk."
"About what?"
"About...about...there’s some things you don’t know about me."
Robert’s face immediately took on a teasing look. "So, you’re finally going to tell me about the mysterious Rose?"
"I’m serious, Robert."
"Sorry. What did you want to tell me?"
"It’s...there’s a lot of things you don’t know about me."
"Such as?"
"I...you may want to rescind your offer of marriage after you hear this. If you do, I’ll understand. I’ve done some...pretty unacceptable things in the past couple of years."
"What did you do?"
Rose took a deep breath. "I’ll start at the beginning. I ran away from home. My mother had gotten me engaged to a man who was...unkind, and I left him at the altar. I haven’t seen my mother in almost two years, not since I left home."
"Was that the ex-fiancé that Alice mentioned? The one who had a liking for redheads?"
Rose nodded. "Yes. There was something...something wrong with him."
"So you left home, came to New York, and eventually became an actress." He paused. "There’s a lot of actresses who start out as runaways. Acting is not generally considered to be a proper profession for young ladies."
"You can say that again." Rose wondered what her mother would have thought if she could have seen Rose up on a stage, pretending to be someone else. Doubtless she would have been scandalized, as would her wealthy friends, by Rose’s success in a profession that was often considered little better than prostitution.
"That doesn’t sound so shocking. At least you were willing to work hard, and excel at your chosen career. It sounds like you had a good reason for leaving home, and you are much more stable than Alice ever was."
Rose winced inside, thinking about the months with Cal, about how she had sold herself to keep her mother and herself out of poverty. She wasn’t really any better than Alice. She was just more respectable—and more stable.
"That’s another thing. I’m not...not really...an innocent, if you get my meaning."
"You mean you’re not a virgin."
"No, I’m not." She hesitated. "There’s been a couple of men in my life." She stopped, not wanting to discuss Cal, or Jack, or Richard, or the baby she had lost almost two years before.
He arched an eyebrow. "Is that why you acted so surprised when I didn’t try to invite myself into your bed when we were living in New Orleans?"
Rose blushed. "Well...ah...I..."
Robert laughed lightly at her expression. "Your past relationships with men don’t bother me...as long as you don’t plan to go bed-hopping after we’re married."
Rose’s mouth dropped open. "I’ve never gone bed-hopping!" As soon as she said it, she knew that it wasn’t quite true. She had gone from Cal to Jack in a matter of days. Although, she thought, that doesn’t really count, since I was never willing with Cal. "I’m not Alice!"
Robert laughed, but sobered when Rose glowered at him. She took a deep breath.
"There’s more."
Robert looked at her. "You have led an interesting life."
Rose sighed. Interesting didn’t begin to describe it. "I...when the theater troupe was in San Francisco—"
"Does this have something to do with the fact that you were asked to leave?"
"Yes." Rose eyed him balefully, irritated at his interruption.
"So, what happened?"
"I killed someone."
Robert stared at her in shock, at a loss for words. Finally, he sputtered, "Who? How—why did you kill someone?"
Rose felt cold inside, knowing that she had just destroyed their relationship. But he probably would have found out anyway, since they were going to San Francisco, and there were undoubtedly people there who remembered her and what she had done. How much worse would it have been if he had found out about her crime from someone else, and known that she had kept it from him?
"I didn’t mean to kill her," Rose told him, wanting desperately for him to understand, even if they parted ways at the next train station and never saw each other again.
"Her?"
"Marietta Scott. She was a minor actress with the Shakespeare troupe who was bitterly jealous of my role as leading lady and of my relationship with the leading man. She wanted to be the leading lady herself, but she lacked talent. She finally got the leading man after we split up, but Marietta could never quite forgive me for usurping her desired status in the troupe. My friend Evelyn always advised me to turn the other cheek, and she was right, since responding to Marietta’s taunts and dirty tricks only made things worse, but it’s hard to be charitable to someone like that. On the last night before the troupe was to go on break for a month, Marietta came into the dressing room after everyone else had gone. She started making rude remarks, calling me a slut, and something just snapped. I responded in kind, and the next thing I knew, we were fighting. The director, Harry Parsons, heard the fight and came to break it up, but when Marietta paused to look at him, I didn’t think. I just gave her a shove. She fell against a cabinet and broke her neck." Rose shuddered, remembering the still form of her former co-actress. She rubbed her temples, only then realizing that her face was streaked with tears. "I didn’t mean to kill her, Robert. Please believe me. It was an accident."
Robert stared at her, still stunned by her confession. He never would have thought her capable of killing anyone. "What—what happened after that? Did you go to jail?"
Rose nodded. "Yes. I spent a few weeks there, until the lawyer that my friend’s husband had hired convinced the jury that what had happened was self-defense, and I was freed." She paused, taking a deep breath. "Maybe they should have let me rot."
"But if it was an accident..."
Rose shook her head, wiping her nose on her sleeve. "I committed the worst crime that a person can commit—I took someone else’s life away from them. Life is the most precious thing a person can have, and I took it from Marietta in a moment of angry carelessness. I wish it hadn’t happened. I would bring her back if I could."
"But you can’t."
"No, I can’t. I’ll have to live with what I did for the rest of my life." She quieted as the next stop was announced. Taking a deep breath, she continued, "You go on to Alaska, and have a good time, and enjoy the wilderness. I’ll get off here." She reached for her bag.
Robert stayed her hand. "Rose...I’ll admit that I’m shocked by what you’ve told me—but I believe you. I don’t think you killed her on purpose, and I think that your own...remorse...is more than enough punishment." Rose looked at him, wiping the tears from her eyes, trying to compose herself. "You can get off here if you want—but I’d rather you stayed. I still want you to be my wife—if you want to be."
"I do." Rose looked at him. "But can you live with me?"
"I think there is such a thing as forgiveness, and moving on from the past. It’s easiest if it’s someone you love."
"It is," Rose agreed. She looked at her bag one last time, then shoved it back out of the way. "I’m staying."
She threw her arms around him, hiding her face against his shoulder as the train came to a stop and people began to exit. "Thank you, Robert."
"For what?"
"For...for just...being you."
Robert held her in his arms, not having to ask this time what she meant. He knew.