The train arrived in San Francisco two days later. Robert and Rose found an inexpensive hotel, booked passage on the next ship heading for Alaska—in three days—and took a trolley to Deborah’s neighborhood.
Robert was openly impressed. "Nob Hill! Your friend must be rich."
"She is," Rose agreed. "Her father’s in manufacturing—he’s the owner—and her husband is one of the partners in the business."
"How did someone like you meet someone like her?"
"What do you mean?" Rose was slightly offended.
"Well, you’re an actress. You move from place to place. You don’t have much money..."
"We were childhood friends."
"Before you ran away from home."
"Right."
"Did your family have money, too?"
"We did. Then it disappeared."
"Money talks. It says good-bye," Robert quipped.
Rose laughed. "Exactly!"
"Let me guess. That was where the groom that you left at the altar came in."
"You’re too perceptive for your own good," Rose told him. "Maybe I should silence you."
"How?"
Rose thought a minute. "This might work." She threw her arms around him and kissed him before he could say another word.
A small child behind them tugged at his mother’s sleeve. "Look, Mommy! Those people are kissing! Ew!"
Rose and Robert broke apart, a little sheepishly. "What were we talking about?" Robert asked her teasingly.
"I knew I could silence you!" Rose teased back.
The trolley came to a stop and they got off. Rose led the way in the direction of Deborah’s home, Robert gazing at all the expensive houses, gardens, and cars.
When they got there, Rose rang the doorbell and waited. The housekeeper answered the door.
"Miss DeWitt Bukater! Come in. I will tell Mrs. Hutchison that you’re here."
"Miss DeWitt Bukater?" Robert looked at her questioningly.
Rose blushed. "I...ah...sort of changed my name when I left home."
"Where did you come up with the name Dawson?"
"I just heard it somewhere, and decided to use it."
Deborah came down the hall, neatly maneuvering her wheelchair around furnishings. A small dog followed her, yapping at the visitors.
"Rosie!" Deborah cried, holding out her arms. "You decided to come back! I didn’t think we’d see you again after what happened."
Rose gave her friend a hug. The dog circled her, sniffing at her feet and dress, then jumped into Deborah’s lap.
"It’s good to see you, Debbie."
Deborah noticed Robert. "Who’s this, Rose?" She looked at her friend slyly.
"Deborah, I would like you to meet my fiancé, Robert Calvert."
Robert stepped forward and shook Deborah’s hand. "Pleased to meet you, Mrs. Hutchison."
"Please, call me Debbie. All my friends do." She looked at both of them. "Won’t you come into the parlor? I’ll have Mrs. Bloomfield make some tea—or would you rather have coffee?" She looked at Robert.
"Coffee, please," Robert told her.
Deborah quickly made her way into the kitchen to give the cook her order, while Rose led Robert to the parlor. While they waited, they discussed their wedding.
"When should we get married?" Robert asked.
"I’d like to get married before we leave San Francisco. Maybe two days from now?"
"It won’t be a very big wedding."
"We don’t know very many people anyway. Do you know anyone here?"
"Not anymore."
"I only know Deborah and her family. Would you mind if I invited them?"
"Go ahead. Weddings are more a bride’s thing anyway."
Deborah came into the parlor, Mrs. Bloomfield in tow. The cook set a tray of coffee and tea on the table and another tray containing cookies and sandwiches. She left the three alone.
Deborah wheeled herself up to the table. The dog followed her, then gave her a dejected look when she pointed in the direction of a large cushion in the corner. The animal curled up, eyeing the visitors.
Rose stared at her friend. Deborah’s loose dress had bunched up behind her, revealing a now-swelling middle. Rose looked at her questioningly.
Deborah saw where Rose was looking and blushed slightly. Then she smiled.
"Debbie, are you—"
"—going to have a baby? Yes. In September."
"Is Will happy about it?"
"Very. So is Mother. She never thought she would get any grandchildren."
"Aren’t you worried about the birth? I mean, with you crippled and everything." Rose remembered her own miscarriage, how painful it had been—and she had been strong and healthy.
Deborah shook her head. "I have a good doctor, and if anything goes wrong, he has already said that he will perform a Caesarean section."
"What’s that?"
"Its an operation where they cut the mother open and take the baby out."
Rose shuddered. Deborah laughed at her reaction.
"It’ll be fine." She looked at Robert, who was drinking coffee and watching them in amusement. "When are you two getting married?"
"In two days," Rose told her.
"Two days!"
"We’re heading for Alaska in three days," Robert explained.
Deborah arched one eyebrow in amusement. "Did you plan the honeymoon before you chose the wedding date?"
"Actually," Rose explained, "it isn’t quite a honeymoon. We’re going on a...an adventure."
"What are you going to do up there?"
"Pan for gold, hunt caribou...whatever happens to present itself. Isn’t that what adventure is all about?" Robert asked.
"I wish I could visit there, although I pity the caribou."
"He’s hunting caribou," Rose told her. "I’m not killing anything."
"Not on purpose, anyway."
There was an uncomfortable silence. Finally, Rose spoke up.
"Debbie, we would be honored if you and Will, and your parents, were present at our wedding."
"I’d be glad to come." Deborah paused, then added, laughing, "Can I be your matron of honor?"
"Of course!"
Deborah pushed back from the table.
"Where are you going?" Rose asked.
"I’m going to call Mother, and Will if I can get through to him. Mother can tell Father." She wheeled herself into the hall.
Rose and Robert followed her. Rose wondered how Deborah was going to make her calls—the phone was out of her reach. Her question was answered as Deborah wheeled herself up to a table beside the phone. Gripping the arms of the wheelchair, she flung herself out of it, catching herself with her hands on the edge of the table. Using her arms for leverage, she boosted herself onto the table and leaned toward the phone.
Rose was amazed. Deborah had incredible upper body strength, honed by the years of having to wheel herself around. She perched on the table and spoke into the receiver.
"Operator, please connect me with Belinda Hill." A moment later, she began to speak enthusiastically into the phone.
"Mother? It’s Deborah." A pause. "Rose is back, and she’s getting married. His name is Robert Calvert." There was another pause. "They’re getting married in two days." Rose could hear Belinda shouting. Deborah listened patiently. "Yes, Mother, I’m sure that you can. I’m sure she’ll be very pleased." She listened for a moment more. "All right. We’ll see you in a few minutes."
She hung up the phone and turned to Rose and Robert. "As I’m sure you heard, Mother was yelling. She’s upset because you didn’t give her more notice. She doesn’t know how she’s going to make your wedding dress in two days, but she supposes she’ll manage."
"My wedding dress? Debbie, she doesn’t have to make me a dress."
"Don’t spoil her fun, Rosie. You know she’s always loved making dresses for the two of us. She made my wedding gown."
"Well...all right. I didn’t really have a wedding dress anyway."
"Good. She’ll be here in a few minutes to get started."
Rose groaned. When Belinda Hill got started on a project, nothing could stop her.
Deborah laughed. "Why don’t you go finish your tea? I still need to call Will."
"Are you going to need help getting down from there?"
"No, I can manage. If I get stuck, I’ll call."
They went back into the parlor to wait. Rose was quiet, thinking. She was happy for Deborah. Her friend had everything—a wonderful husband, a beautiful home, and family who loved her, and now she had a baby on the way. Rose sipped at her tea, her mind full of thoughts of her own future.
Her own life wasn’t so bad. She was about to marry a man who loved her, and who she loved in return. To be sure, life hadn’t turned out quite the way she had once thought it would, but she was content. She wasn’t looking forward to boarding the ship, but she supposed that she had to do it sometime.
Rose looked at Robert. He was drinking another cup of coffee, watching her.
"What?" she asked.
"Nothing," he told her, and before she noticed what he was doing, he took a cookie and popped it in her mouth. Rose choked in surprise, then giggled.
Deborah came back into the room.
"Lovebirds," she scolded, seeing Robert trying to put another cookie in Rose’s mouth. "Behave yourselves."
"Like you?" Rose couldn’t help teasing her, looking at her swelling middle.
"I’m married," Deborah replied loftily. "You have to wait two more days."
The doorbell rang, and the housekeeper escorted Mrs. Hill into the parlor a moment later. After being introduced to the groom, she began fussing over Rose.
"You’re much too thin. Haven’t you been eating properly? And your skin! You know you shouldn’t spend so much time in the sun, especially not in the South. It’s much too bright there for you to go out without a hat."
Rose touched her face. She was a little tanned, although her makeup had helped to protect her from the worst of the sun’s rays.
"Well, never mind. You’re just a little sun-kissed. You’ll still look gorgeous in white satin and lace. I couldn’t get any beads, though—too short a notice. We’ll have to use what I had on hand."
"Mother," Deborah interjected, "shouldn’t you let Rose make her own decisions about what kind of dress she wants?"
"I brought several patterns for the dress and veil, and three patterns of lace. There’s also tulle for the veil, and some white ribbon."
"It should be fine," Rose assured her. "I do need a dress."
"Well, I’m going to help anyway," Deborah told them. "To keep Mother from brow-beating you." She turned to Belinda. "Where did you put the materials?"
"I had them placed in your sewing room."
"All right. Let’s get started." She looked at Robert. "Will should be home in about an hour. He’s invited the two of you to stay for dinner, which will be around eight. In the meantime, if you’d like something a bit more substantial to tide you over, just go to the kitchen and ask Mrs. Bloomfield. She’ll find you something. You’re welcome to sit in the library if you like. We’ve plenty of books if you want to read."
"All right." Robert waved them off. "Go get your fitting done."
The three women hurried away, discussing styles and fabrics.
Rose finally chose an elegant gown with a full skirt, no train, and lace insets in the bodice. It was considerably less elaborate than the gown she had worn for her wedding to Cal, but it suited her better. She chose a veil of simple tulle, with a few ribbons to decorate. Deborah offered her a pair of white shoes to wear, and Rose accepted, since they were nearly the same size.
She stood patiently while Mrs. Hill measured her, criticized her admittedly shabby undergarments, and cut the patterns and fabric. As she made her final measurements and packed up her supplies, Rose escaped with Deborah into the nursery that was being decorated for the coming infant. Deborah wheeled herself around, pointing out each detail. There was already a bassinet with blankets, a changing table set low so that Deborah could care for her child, and several soft stuffed toys.
Rose admired each item, thinking all the while of the baby she had lost. She had never told anyone about it. Her baby would have been almost a year and a half old, if it had lived. She followed Deborah back downstairs, wondering how Robert would feel about having a child. Not right away, of course—she didn’t want to have a baby in the wilderness—but after they returned to civilization, perhaps they could start a family.