"Rose, let me look at you, dear," said Ruth as she put her hands on Rose's cheeks.

She studied her daughter and had to admit that her eyes were glowing, despite the fact that she had no smile on her face at the moment. She had lost the gaunt look that she had carried after the sinking. Her hair sparkled and the dress she was wearing, though simple, was new and clean and pressed. Apparently living with someone like Jack Dawson had not lowered her standards of hygiene and appearance.

"I'm glad you could come, Mother," said Rose, trying her best to be polite in this unsure situation.

"Yes, well I am glad that you invited me, dear," answered Ruth. "You are looking well. And your little house seems just right for you. But don't you miss…."

"No, Mother, we are not going to get into that. I don't miss anything. This is my life now. And what I have with Jack is far richer than anything I have ever known," said Rose defensively.

"Alright, I'm sorry. I want this visit to go well. I really am trying Rose. I hope you understand that."

Rose stood looking at her mother. Outwardly, Ruth seemed no different than when she had been a society matron in Philadelphia, but inwardly there had to have been changes. Otherwise, things would have already been a lot worse.

"Let's try and have a nice time, alright Rose?" said Ruth, sensing Rose's mood.

"Yes, Mother. Would you like to see our house?" asked Rose.

Ruth seemed agreeable to the suggestion. Rose led her through their humble but tidy home. On the first floor there was a parlor and dining room decorated with some sparse, but lovely pieces of cherrywood furniture. The kitchen was well equipped with a large stove and an icebox. There was a round wood table and a pantry. Several windows and a door looked out onto a covered back porch.

"Do you cook, Rose?" questioned Ruth.

"I am trying. I did learn how to make a few things at school and you know Tilly used to try and show me things. But sometimes, Jack cooks."

Ruth looked shocked. No man among the Philadelphia families she knew ever set foot in the kitchen.

"Jack? And what he makes, is it decent?"

"Mother, I hate to say it, but Jack does better than me. He has so much patience and doesn't try to make it fancy. It tastes good. Sometimes we take the food and we go on a picnic. It tastes so wonderful when you eat outside," said Rose.

The word picnic set off an alarm bell in Ruth's head. She recalled the times that Edwin had tried to take her on picnics. He had wanted to be alone with her and enjoy more than a picnic. Ruth thinking that what they were doing was evil, had resisted until he left her truly alone. It seemed as though Rose had a different attitude about those things.

"Is there an upstairs?" asked Ruth, anxious to be away from the topic of picnic and food.

"Yes, this way," said Rose as she led her mother back through the hallway and up the stairs.

There were two very tiny bedrooms, each furnished with a bed and chest of drawers. The walls were covered in paper decorated with small flowers. Plain white muslin curtains hung at the windows. Down the hall was a bathroom. Everything was small, but tidy. Ruth hated to admit it, but the word cozy could almost be used to describe this house.

"Here is our room," said Rose as they walked into a large room that was located at the front of the house. A brass bed stood against the wall. There were several small chests of drawer and a large wardrobe. An old steamer trunk stood at the foot of the bed. In a corner near the window, was a table on which were scattered Jack's drawing portfolio and a few unfinished drawings.

While Ruth was clearly embarrassed to be in their room, where intimate activities took place, Rose was oblivious. She had gone to a corner of the room and picked something out of a small wooden box.

"What's that?" asked Ruth, looking at the tiny puppy who blinked his eyes at her.

"This is Byron. Jack gave him to me."

"Rose, really. A dog sleeping in your bedroom. You know how I feel about animals and especially in the house, in the place where you sleep."

Rose sighed.

"Here we go," she thought now expecting an onslaught from Ruth's tongue.

Rose held the puppy up to her cheek and scratched his furry, little head.

"He is cute though, isn't he, Mother?" said Rose.

She held the puppy out to Ruth.

"Hold him. You need to make friends with him. You'll be coming over and you need to get used to each other," Rose told her.

"Well, just this once, Rose. You know I don't really like holding babies or puppies. It makes me too nervous."

Rose could not control herself. She just said what came into her head this time.

"Nervous? Or does holding babies and puppies force you to admit that you have to outwardly show your feelings, Mother? How long are you going to keep every emotion locked inside you?"

Ruth looked stunned. How did Rose know this? She had never before confronted her this way. Had Jack been talking to her? From what she could remember, Jack Dawson had known exactly what was going on inside her head and it was frightening.

Rose decided to keep going.

"And anyway Mother, you better get used to holding not only Byron, but a baby as well."

Ruth stood stone still, as if rooted to the spot. Her eyes turned cold and her lips came tightly together.

"I knew he had to have his way with you," responded Ruth angerly. "He couldn't keep his hands off you, could he? And so soon. Couldn't you have waited? Mark my words, he is just using you, Rose. Now that he got you like this and he can go off to greener pastures."

"How dare you, Mother. Don't you ever say anything like that about Jack," she shouted taking a whimpering Byron from her mother. "This is what Jack and I both want and besides I am just as responsible as he is, maybe more so. But please Mother, don't upset me. It's not good for me, for the baby and if we are ever going to sort out our feelings for each other, well, it's not doing that situation any good either," said Rose, trying hard not to cry.

One hand came up over her mouth and Ruth too looked as if she was about to shed some tears.

"I am sorry," apologized Ruth, trying to sound contrite. "I had no right to say that. I know that he is your husband now. And he does seem to be looking out for you properly. He promised me that he would take good care of you. I really am sorry."

"Maybe I shouldn't have told you about the baby quite that way," responded Rose. "But we are so happy and so excited. It's all we talk about and think about."

Ruth could not quite understand Rose's attitude. To her pregnancy had been a chore, the whole process a duty. Rose on the other hand was thrilled and treating the whole thing like a big adventure.

Rose looked at her mother and felt pain. Their relationship was so empty. So lacking in the touches and feelings of parental love. She remembered how wonderful she had felt when Golden Moon had given her a big hug when they left. Even Jack and Jay had hugged. Touching friends and family was an activity that was sorely lacking in her old life. Maybe it was time to teach her mother something new.

Rose put Byron down in his box and then turned to Ruth. Someone was going to have to break the ice.

"I guess it's going to be me," thought Rose.

She went up to her Mother and embraced her. At first Ruth felt stiff and awkward. But as she spoke, she noticed that her mother started to slowly relax.

"I want you to be happy for us. I want you to be a part of our family. Jack and I both want that."

Suddenly Ruth was overcome with uncontrollable sobbing. This hug from Rose, was the trigger that had opened the floodgate of her feelings. She looked around the room and saw the bed. She felt weak and needed to sit down. Her emotions had gotten the best of her.

"Rose, forgive me. I don't feel well. I need to sit down. I have to tell you so many things. Things you won't like to hear. Things that might hurt you. I can't walk around like this any more. Please just listen. Don't judge me harshly."

Ruth fumbled in her purse for a handkerchief, and the tears flowed down her face. She had been like this when she told Molly too. Maybe once she told Rose the whole story, she would not have to go through this ordeal again.

Rose was mystified as to what Ruth was about to tell her. Whatever had happened in the past, certainly must have been painful. She had never in her life seen her mother like this.

Rose walked over to the bed and sat down next to her mother.

"It's okay. No one can hear us, or see us. Tell me. Tell me what is so awful," said Rose, feeling unexplained compassion for her mother.

"And so when Molly said those word, "So you just sold your daughter", that is when I finally woke up and realized the harm I had been doing to you. That and when Jack danced with me. He seemed to be able to read my mind. It was uncanny. That's when I realized that I had to change, that I could change."

Rose had sat with Ruth now for the better part of an hour listening as her mother poured out her heart to her. The attitudes she carried with her up to this point in her life, had been the result of a misunderstood, loveless childhood. Now Rose knew why Ruth had treated her as she did, why her parent's marriage had seemed less than ideal and why Ruth had hated Jack with a vengeance. She realized how far Ruth had come with the help of Molly. Now she and Jack would have to work with her to build confidence and trust. And probably tolerate a few sharp remarks here and there. Because it was not possible for a person to change completely overnight. Still though, she had to give her mother a great deal of credit for trying. And as a result, Rose herself would have to change her feelings for her mother. None of this was going to be easy. But that it was happening at all was a small miracle.

Ruth looked exhausted. Her suit was rumpled from her fidgeting and loose strands of her hair were hanging down under her hat.

"Here, let me get you a towel and you can go and freshen up in the bathroom," said Rose. "We never did have our tea."

"Oh, I don't think that I could have anything now," said Ruth.

"I bought the chocolate eclairs just for you," said Rose, earnestly. "I remember once when I was little and was spying on you in the dining room. I saw you eat two after some company left. Remember that?"

A smile started to form on Ruth's mouth.

"Yes, I love them. But someone was always watching what I ate and criticizing me. My life was never my own. I realize now that society dictates so many things. Most of them not necessarily good," said Ruth.

"Are you happy now, happy the way we are living now?" asked Rose, as her mother stood to go and clean up. "Do you feel the same freedom I do, the freedom I sought?"

"Yes. I think I am beginning to understand. It's been a long and hard lesson. And I know I am going to make mistakes. I have already made a few today. Don't be too hard on me Rose. Please?" she asked with her eyes begging for forgiveness.

"We all have to work this out together. And I, I know I will make mistakes too. I want you to know that it was Jack who insisted that I finally invite you over. You know he has no family. And now with the baby coming, he was most anxious that we work things out. Jack is like that. He can be quite proper about things too. In spite of what you might think, he has very high standards."

>From downstairs, they heard the front screen door slam shut.

"Rose, Rose where are you?"

"We're up here," she called. "I was just giving Mother a tour of the house. We're coming right down to have our tea."

Ruth made herself presentable and mother and daughter started down the stairs.

Jack was standing in the hall, munching on one of the eclairs.

"Hello, Ruth," he said, politely. "Glad you could come over today. I'd give you a hug, but as you can see, I don't want to get this chocolate all over you."

Ruth smiled. It was hard to feel ill at ease with Jack, once you knew him a little. He didn't take himself or anyone else too seriously.

"You have a very nice house here. Molly says that the lease is for one year?" she asked.

"Yes, I guess Rose told you that we will probably need someplace bigger soon," he said smiling.

"Yes, yes, she told me. I hope things go well. I, ah, congratulations, Jack," Ruth said rather stiffly.

"Excuse me," said Rose, squeezing by them with the teapot. "I need to heat up the water."

Jack and Ruth moved to the side and let her pass.

"How are things going with you, Ruth?"

"Fine Jack, just fine."

Ruth was trying so hard to be on her good behavior that the conversation was stilted and uncomfortable. Still, it was better than saying something she was going to be sorry for.

"Are you having a nice visit with Rose?" he wanted to know.

"Yes, very nice."

"I just want you to know that you are welcome here anytime. Think of this as your home too. Don't feel that you need an invitation to come over. Where I grew up, people just dropped by. My mom loved it that way."

"Jack," said Ruth, pausing before she went on.

She wanted to apologize, to say how sorry she was that she had given him a bad time. But she had been a different person then. For some reason, the words would not yet come.

"Jack," she began again, "you seem to have some very nice memories of your family," she said stiffly.

"Yeah, they were great. Those were good times. It was nice to go back to Chippewa Falls and take a look back."

Ruth studied this young man. He was good looking, clean, well spoken. So unlike her first impression, when her views of him had been colored by her own bad past experience. He had been working steadily at his job now for 3 months. And he had great respect for the memory of his parents.

"I guess he's not so bad after all."

"Here, now we are ready. I heated the water again," said Rose, heading to the porch. "Let's go sit down, Mother. Jack are you going to join us?"

"No, I think I'll go see Byron, maybe take him for a walk. You know tea is not my thing," responded Jack, heading up the stairs, two at a time.

"Those eclairs were delicious," said Ruth. "I think I need to find that bakery."

"Oh, it's that little one, Nelson's. It's just two blocks from Molly's house." Rose told her.

Jack came out on the porch holding Byron.

"He is getting bigger everyday now. Do you like dogs?" Jack asked Ruth.

"Well, they are all right. I've not had much experience. Not with babies either. Maybe I should start practicing. I held him a little upstairs and he seemed to like me." she said laughing nervously.

"Here," he said, handing her the puppy.

Ruth began stroking his head. Byron looked up at her with his melting puppy eyes and cuddled deeper into her laugh.

Suddenly Rose had a horrified look on her face. There was a wet stain under Byron, on her mother's suit.

"Oh, oh," she thought. "This is when the trouble starts."

"Ah, Ruth, let me take Byron now," said Jack, seeing the problem.

Ruth looked down at her wet skirt. Then at Rose and Jack who both looked terrified.

"They think I am going to explode. I know it," she said to herself.

"Do you want to towel, Mother," asked Rose. "I'm really sorry."

"No, no," said Ruth calmly. "I expect that being a grandmother, I will have to get used to things like this."

She smiled up at Rose and Jack. At first it was a very tentative smile. But when they looked back at her with laughter in their eyes, not laughing at her, but with her, the three of them could not longer keep a straight face.

There was one éclair left on the plate.

"I think I will take that last one Rose, if you don't mind. I haven't had such fun in a long time."

Jack watched all this. He had seen some unusual things in the past months. But none was as unusual as the formerly staid and proper Ruth, stuffing another éclair in her mouth, untroubled by the stain left by Byron on the skirt of her dress.

"Maybe she's not so bad after all," he thought to himself.