Chapter 16
Chapter Sixteen
October 1993
O ren took the news just as Rose dreamed he would. He was ecstatic, leaping from his desk chair to wrap her in his arms and spin her in a circle. He then put her down gently on her tiptoes and kissed her lips, her fingers, her forehead, and her stomach. There were tears in his eyes. Rose thought, This is the happiest day of my life. It was only the hundredth time she’d thought that since she’d met Oren. She figured there were hundreds of thousands more.
That night, they lay in Oren’s bed and talked about the future in a way that made it feel real for the first time. Oren propped his head on her stomach as his eyes swelled.
“I hope you’ll marry me,” he whispered. “Make it official.”
Rose brought her hands on either side of his face and had to stop herself from screaming with joy. Instead, delicately, softly, she said, “I want to marry you, Oren Grayson. I want to be with you the rest of my life.”
Oren bought her a ring a few days after that. Over dinner on her day off, he got down on one knee and slid the ring over her finger. Rose wept and threw her arms around him. They were alone at a beautiful beach house on the opposite side of the island—far from the prying eyes of Mr. and Mrs. Walden. It was the first night they were able to pretend they were “husband and wife” rather than two people bunking at the Walden Estate.
Rose knew she was days away from quitting her babysitting gig. She and Oren couldn’t stay at the Waldens’ after they confessed news of their engagement and the baby. Oren told her that night they’d move to this very beach house after she quit; from there, they’d plan whatever came next.
“The wedding has to be in Manhattan,” he explained. “That’s where most of my business contacts are.”
Rose didn’t hesitate; she didn’t think twice about why it was so essential that his business contacts came to their wedding.
He told her the wedding needed to be sooner rather than later. “There’s a ticking time bomb in your belly,” he explained. “We don’t want anyone to do the math and figure it out.”
Oren drove Rose back to the Walden Estate late that night. In the dark car, she kissed him and promised she’d quit her job first thing tomorrow. His eyes glinted with the orange light from the Waldens’ exterior lamps. He kissed her knuckles and said, “Good luck with Mrs. Walden. She can be a trip.”
It sounded ominous.
Rose woke up early to tend to the children. She got them up, fixed their breakfast, and ran them through the strict morning schedule prior to the tutor’s arrival. At nine thirty, it was just her and Evie alone in the playroom, giving different voices to Evie’s dolls. There was a loneliness in Evie’s eyes, proof that she didn’t love it when her brothers and sister went off without her. Rose wanted to tell her that “real life” would happen to her sooner rather than later. She needed to enjoy it.
Rose didn’t get a chance to corner Mrs. Walden until after bedtime. She tiptoed away from Evie’s room and hurried downstairs. If she thought about what she needed to do too much, she’d panic and put it off till tomorrow. She couldn’t afford that. The Waldens needed to find a new babysitter. Rose needed to get on with the next phase of her life.
Would the Waldens be invited to their wedding? Would they care? Or would they only come because it was essential to be seen at such an event?
This was a world Rose didn’t understand. Maybe she never would.
Rose knocked on the door. Behind it, she could hear Mrs. and Mr. Walden discussing something and listening to music. Zachary was gone—maybe in Rome, although Rose couldn’t remember. Oren was, of course, at their beach house. Their new home.
“Come in!” Mrs. Walden sang.
Rose poked her head in to find Mrs. Walden’s eyes glossy with a drink in her hand. Mr. Walden was on his feet, searching through a couple of records stacked on the side table. They looked bemused.
“Hi,” Rose said meekly.
“This is a surprise,” Mrs. Walden said, raising her glass of wine.
“Could I please talk to you?” Rose’s voice wavered. “It will only take a moment.”
Mr. and Mrs. Walden exchanged glances and shrugged. Rose stepped in. The air reeked of alcohol and smoke. Rose couldn’t figure out which of them was smoking.
Rose remained standing. She shifted her weight nervously. Mr. and Mrs. Walden sat down in front of her. Rose was reminded of a job interview. But this was an exit interview , she reminded herself. It didn’t matter what they thought.
“I wanted to thank you again for this opportunity,” Rose stuttered, “but unfortunately, the time has come for me to move on.”
Mrs. Walden looked stoic and dead-eyed. Mr. Walden turned to look at her.
“I know this puts you in a difficult position,” Rose said. “And I’m sorry about that.”
Mrs. Walden sniffed.
“Thank you for telling us,” Mr. Walden said. It seemed as though he couldn’t take the silence. “When do you need to go?”
“As soon as possible,” Rose said, thinking of the baby in her womb. “But I know you need to find a new babysitter. I can be here a little while longer till then. Maybe two weeks?”
Mrs. Walden arched a single eyebrow. “Why don’t you sit with us, Rose? Why don’t you sit and tell us exactly what you’re going to do next?” She smiled wider. “Why don’t you sit and tell us just what, exactly, could be better than living at our multi-million-dollar estate in Nantucket?”
Rose’s head swam. Does she know about Oren? Can she see it written all over my face?
Or did she see me sneaking around? Has she known for months?
“Did some boy call you from Mississippi?” Mrs. Walden said.
Rose filled her lungs.
“I need a valid explanation,” Mrs. Walden said. “Otherwise, I will not free you from your contract.”
Rose was taken aback. Free me from my contract? Rose could just as easily pack her things and leave the estate tonight. She didn’t have to tell Mrs. Walden anything. The other house staff could take care of the children for a while. What was the big deal?
And then the realization struck Rose at once. She’s drunk. She wants to play with me like a dog with a chew toy.
What do I care?
Rose stuck her hand into her pocket to remove her engagement ring. She slipped it on her finger and extended her hand.
Mrs. Walden’s eyes were enormous. Slowly, she got to her feet and reached for Rose’s hand. “Where did you get this?” she rasped.
“I’m engaged,” Rose said.
Mrs. Walden said, “But the ring. It must have cost a fortune.” Her eyes glinted with intrigue. Her lips parted.
Silence filled the room. Rose tightened her fist to ensure Mrs. Walden couldn’t whip forward and take the ring from her finger.
“Could you give us a moment alone?” Mrs. Walden said.
Rose shifted back, heading to the door.
But Mrs. Walden shot, “Not you. Rose, stay where you are.”
It was then she realized she was talking about Mr. Walden. Mrs. Walden wanted to be alone with Rose instead.
Rose remained in the center of the rug. Mr. Walden slunk from the room as though he’d done something wrong.
Rose forced herself to look Mrs. Walden in the eye. She refused to let her gaze drop.
Suddenly, Mrs. Walden was directly in front of her. Her nose was maybe an inch away from the tip of Rose’s. She could feel her breath on her lips.
“You're a lot of things, Rose. But I never imagined you to be a con artist,” Mrs. Walden rasped.
“I’m not a con artist.”
“Tell me you didn’t nab a job with a wealthy family just to spend more time with other wealthy people. Just to get yourself enmeshed.”
“That isn’t why I came here.” Rose raised her chin.
“Who is it?” Mrs. Walden demanded. “Who’s the lucky man?”
Rose thought, Don’t tell her. Don’t give her any power over you.
But then she heard herself say, “It’s Oren Grayson.”
Mrs. Walden’s face burst into a horrible smile. Rose’s blood ran cold. There was something in Mrs. Walden’s eyes. But Rose couldn’t read what was going on in her head.
“You think he’s your ticket out of your social class, don’t you?” Mrs. Walden breathed.
Rose flared her nostrils. “We’re in love. I’m in love with him. It has nothing to do with class.”
“It has everything to do with class,” Mrs. Walden blared.
Rose had never wanted to hit anyone before. She didn’t want to now, either. But she understood the impulse more than ever.
“I didn’t come here to manipulate Oren into falling in love with me,” Rose insisted. “He was married when I arrived.”
Mrs. Walden’s eyes glinted. “That’s right. And whatsoever could have happened to sweet Natalie? What a horrible accident that was!” She said it with heavy sarcasm. She said it as though Natalie’s death had never been an accident, as though only idiots thought it was.
But Rose was of the staunch belief that Oren was innocent. He was the love of her life.
The back of Rose’s neck was slick with sweat. She inhaled and exhaled. “We want to start over.”
“He’ll dump you, you know,” Mrs. Walden said. “At the first sign of how weak you are, or how little you are, or how inconsequential your family is, he’ll dump you for someone else. That’s the kind of man he is.”
Rose took a dramatic step back. All she wanted was to race through the house and whip into the chilly night. All she wanted was refuge from this horrible woman.
But Oren had left her here, and she didn’t have access to a phone till tomorrow. She had to sleep here tonight. There was no surviving the chilly October air.
“I can help you, honey,” Mrs. Walden said, adding honey to the horror she’d already shot. “I can get you out of this. We’re planning to go to Manhattan soon. You can move with us. Start over there. You can enroll in a few classes here and there. We know people at Columbia. And the children just adore you. I can’t let you go easily. Not when I see you destroying your life so plainly.”
Rose couldn’t help herself but say, “It’s too late. I’m pregnant.”
Because she hoped admitting to the baby would ease things between them. It would force Mrs. Walden to reckon with how “real” this was.
But instead, Mrs. Walden sniffed. “You’ll regret this day for the rest of your life.”
She then turned on her heel and whipped her hand toward the door, indicating it was time for Rose to leave.
Rose hurried out of the room, went upstairs, and wept into her pillow.
But she told herself, It’s over. I did what I came here to do.
She had to be proud of herself for facing that horrible woman.
And she had to remind herself, No matter how wealthy I become, I can never become like her.
It was much sadder to say goodbye to the children. They’d been difficult and unruly, but she’d loved them to a degree. When Mrs. Walden requested that she leave the house as soon as possible the following afternoon, Rose packed up her things and hugged the children, promising that she’d visit as soon and as often as she could. Hamilton kicked her shin a final time on her way out, which felt fitting. To him, he was enraged she’d decided to leave, and he wanted to show that.
Just before she left, Rose sent a letter back home to explain what was happening—that she was going to get married and she was moving.
But it had been a very long time since she’d spoken to her parents. She wasn’t sure how to tell them about the great and powerful events of her life.
Oren and Rose didn’t remain in Nantucket long after Rose left the Waldens. The beach house across the island was beautiful but far too small for Oren, who was accustomed to big, sprawling homes or else enormous apartments at the top of ornate Manhattan apartment buildings. “You really must know Manhattan in the winter,” he explained of the city. “It’s wonderful.”
So, by late November, they were in the city. Rose had never been before, and it captured her imagination. It felt beyond her wildest dreams. They ate at divine restaurants with Michelin stars; they ate at little hole-in-the-wall places with three tables and the “best-undiscovered chefs of the city.” They redecorated Oren’s apartment—a space, it turned out, where Natalie had never lived. Rose guessed that was part of the reason Oren was okay about bringing his new fiancée there. Natalie’s ghost didn’t haunt it.
Rose met with the “best prenatal doctor in the city” for her pregnancy. Everything was right as rain. She was six weeks along, but the doctor promised she probably wouldn’t start showing until five or six months because she was so tiny.
That meant it was time to plan a wedding.
Oren’s idea was to have the wedding on New Year’s Eve. “I used to have parties every year on New Year’s,” Oren explained one night in their living room. Out the window was Central Park, spread out like a fuzzy blanket. It was sunset. “Maybe we should make it a surprise. I’ll invite everyone. We’ll get the party started. Then you’ll appear in your white dress, and everyone will understand what’s what.” Oren snapped his fingers as though this was the single greatest idea he’d ever come up with.
Rose was swept up in it.
A few weeks before their wedding, Rose turned twenty-two. Oren bought her an exquisite birthday cake—one that looked more like a wedding cake. They ate it and gazed through the window at the sprawling city. Because of the hormones, Rose felt perpetually on the brink of sobbing. Sometimes, she hugged Oren and said, “I’m so happy. I don’t know what to do.” Oren laughed at her and held her.
Christmas meant hanging out with Oren’s brother, Zachary. Their parents had died many years ago. Zachary had a new girlfriend; one Oren talked badly about as soon as they left that evening. “Zachary never knew how to get himself a good girl,” Oren scoffed.
Rose beamed. This was proof that she was a good girl. She was exactly what he wanted.
The wedding was just as sensational as Oren had said it would be.
Hundreds of people milled into the venue Oren had rented in Midtown—a place decorated with art nouveau stylings, forty-five circular tables, and dark shadows lit up with orange lamps that seemed taken from another era. Rose watched from above, already in her wedding dress, her makeup and hair done. She had to wait for her cue. She watched Oren shake people’s hands and whisper in older women’s ears, making them laugh. She watched the Waldens enter, though they’d left their children at home. Mrs. Walden was wearing something sensational and all black. Did she know this was Rose’s wedding? Or did Mrs. Walden think Oren had already kicked Rose to the curb ?
Oren’s cue was taking the microphone and saying hello. “This has been one heck of a year for me,” he said as everyone raised their glasses of champagne to him and settled in their chairs. “I can’t tell you the wide range of emotions I’ve gone through. But through it all, I knew I had my marvelous family and friends. I thank you.” He raised his glass higher. “I have to admit, I haven’t been completely honest about this evening.”
Guests turned to twitter to one another curiously. What does he mean? Oh, Oren. He’s always so tricky, isn’t he?
Rose took her bouquet downstairs and perched in the doorway, watching Oren.
“My life flipped upside down,” Oren said. “I lost someone very dear to me. Someone I will never forget.” He pressed his hand over his chest and made a forlorn face.
Rose thought, He’s faking his sorrow. He loves me so much more than he could have ever loved her. Doesn’t he?
“But I also met someone else,” Oren said. “Someone who knows me, who knows my heartache, who knows my soul.”
Suddenly, the five-piece string orchestra swelled from the corner. Lights came on in the corner and darkened elsewhere. More lights came on to illuminate a sort of “aisle” between the tables and chairs. Rose’s throat spasmed with panic. But she clung hard to her bouquet, fixed her face into a smile, and walked down the aisle just as she’d practiced that morning. She tried not to glance to either side. But when her eyes shifted, she couldn’t help but notice how different the crowd’s emotions were. Some were emotional. Some were panicked. Some looked stricken. But Rose continued to the front of the room to link her arms with Oren, raise her chin, and recite her vows.
Within fifteen minutes, she was officially Rose Grayson. The crowd was on their feet. More champagne was poured, but Rose didn’t drink a single glass. She placed her hand on her lower stomach gently and smiled at everyone, shifting through the crowd as Oren thanked everyone for coming. Rose was never required to say anything except “Thank you,” “Oh, it’s so nice to meet you,” and “Oh, isn’t your dress so nice?”
She came upon Mr. and Mrs. Walden near the far wall. Mrs. Walden gave her a kiss on each cheek and said, “Darling, you look perfect. Doesn’t she look perfect, Oren?” But her smile was so sinister that Rose wanted to run away from her.
“Mrs. Walden hates me,” Rose whispered when she and Oren walked away.
“Don’t be silly, darling. Mrs. Walden hates everyone. But she hates herself most of all,” Oren assured her, then kissed her ear.
It wasn’t till after the fireworks blasted through the night sky over Manhattan that Oren dipped Rose into a kiss and whispered in her ear: “What do you say we spend the next few months in Paris?”
Rose’s eyes bugged out with surprise. “Paris?”
Rose had never envisioned herself in Europe.
But she’d already known Oren long enough to understand that when Oren wanted something, he got it. He had a vision for Paris. And Paris was where they were off to.
Rose was already in over her head. She just didn’t know it yet.