Dance
Daniel had returned from the hospital just before dinner time still in a lot of pain, but his arm was wrapped up tight in a cast, and Dr. Simpson assured him that it would heal just fine so long as he kept the cast dry and went to a doctor within a few weeks of disembarking. Charlie and Jonathan had both stopped by to see him in the hospital as he waited for the cast to dry, and Meg had watched the girls for a bit so that Kelly could as well.
When Ruth saw her daddy’s cast she cried, saying she was, “So, so, so, so sorry, Daddy,” and Kelly took it as another opportunity to drive home the idea that she must stay with Mummy, Daddy, or Aunty Meg at all times to which she had added, “Or Uncle Charlie. Or Mr. Jonaffin.” Her mother gave in but insisted that the list could not be lengthened to add anyone else, and Ruth agreed that she would never run off again.
Daniel was too tired to accompany them to dinner, so the ladies took the girls and went to the Third Class Dining Hall on their own. Once again, Ruth was having a hard time eating her food, insisting that everything was yucky. Meg couldn’t help but think about how different things were in First Class where everyone had to be so prim and proper. Any sort of misbehavior would be cause for severe punishment. She had met the wide end of a wooden spoon many times over similar incidents at Ruth’s age. But Kelly and Daniel chose to parent with a more loving approach, and Meg could appreciate that. She hoped that, if she were ever given the opportunity to have her own children, she would find a way to be firm but loving.
“I heard there’s to be a dance in the Third Class lounge this evening,” Kelly said, smiling and raising her eyebrows at Meg suggestively as she balanced Lizzy on her lap and attempted to eat at the same time.
Meg looked at her with a questioning expression. She began to move her food around her plate with her fork, similar to the way her niece was protesting the presence of broccoli on her plate just now. “And?” she asked once she realized Kelly wasn’t going to say more on her own.
“And I think you should go,” she replied. “It might be fun. You could find a good lookin’ fellow to twirl around the dance floor with.”
Meg scoffed. “Me? Attend a Third Class dance? I don’t think so.”
“I like to dance,” Ruth chimed in.
“Hush, little one,” Kelly shot back. “You’re not goin’ anywhere after the stunt you pulled today.”
Ruth’s face fell, and she leaned back in her chair, arms crossed. “I never get to have any fun.”
Kelly ignored her and returned her attention to Meg. “What’s the matter? Third Class gentlemen not good enough for you, then?”
She knew Kelly was joking, but the irony of the statement was not lost on her. It had, after all, been a Third Class gentleman who had essentially gotten her into this predicament in the first place. “You know that’s not what I meant,” she replied. “Let me rephrase that. Me? Attend a dance? I don’t think so.”
“Why not? You were always the belle of the ball back home. Always got your dance card full. Listen, darlin’ I know you don’t want to think about this just yet, but you’ve got to consider findin’ yourself a good fellow sooner rather than later.”
She was right; Meg didn’t want to think about it. “Not yet,” she said, shaking her head. “Too soon.”
“What about Uncle Charlie?” Ruth asked, suddenly out of her solemn state again.
Meg looked at Kelly questioningly. The girl’s mother shrugged, indicating she’d said nothing, and then Meg returned her attention to the tot. “What’s that darling?” she asked.
“You can’t go to the ball and dance with some other fellow. You have to marry Uncle Charlie,” she explained matter-of-factly.
Meg held back a laugh. “Ruthy, darling, why would you say such a thing?”
“Because he loves you,” she shrugged. “And you love him.”
Once again, Kelly indicated she had no idea where this was coming from.
“Ruth, Mr. Charlie is a nice man, but I don’t think Aunty Meg is going to marry him, sweetheart,” Meg assured her, patting her little hand.
With an air of nonchalance, Ruth shrugged. “You’ll see,” she said, as if she knew her statements to be fact.
“Well, there’s no way I’m going to the dance by myself anyway,” Meg declared, finally taking a bite of her chicken.
“Fine,” Kelly shrugged. “I’ll go with you.”
* * *
“One doesn’t simply bow out of an obligation to meet J. J. Astor in the Smoking Lounge after dinner, Jonathan, you know that,” Charlie was explaining as he finished dressing for the evening meal.
“Why not? Who is more important right now, Mr. Astor or Miss Meg?” the valet asked, slipping Charlie’s jacket on and brushing off any stray lint.
“That’s not the point,” Charlie insisted, adjusting his cufflinks. “Chances are Meg won’t even attend this party. She seems to rather keep to herself.”
“All I’m saying is that it’s supposed to be quite the event, and chances are she will be there, and it might give you the opportunity to talk to her in private, should you wish to do so. And if you get there and she is not present, go to her room, and invite her!”
“Oh, is that all your saying, then?” Charlie remarked, straightening his tie in the mirror. Turning away from his own reflection, he met Jonathan’s gaze. “Look,” he said, “I am definitely intrigued by Meg, that’s for certain. But she acted so peculiarly in the hallway this afternoon. It was as if she wanted me to kiss her—but then she ran away before I could even try.”
“Maybe she just doesn’t want to come off as too easy,” Jonathan offered.
“I don’t think that’s it,” Charlie replied, turning back to the mirror one last time and running his hand across his shoulder. “Not that she’s trying to come across as easy…. You know what I mean. I think there’s something else, some bit of information I’m not privy to.”
“I would agree with that,” Jonathan acknowledged. “There are bits and pieces that seem rather odd to me, as well.”
“Such as?”
“Well, her last name for example. We don’t know what it is, and whenever we make inquiry, she changes the subject. We know she has money, but she won’t talk about work. She admits she’s not Kelly’s sister, but Kelly says she is. It’s all rather odd, isn’t it?”
“Maybe. Maybe not. I don’t know,” Charlie admitted, crossing his arms. “I mean, she may be wondering why someone of my social class is even pursuing her. She probably thinks I’m only after a short roll in the hay. Couldn’t blame her for thinking so. Most men in my situation would only be interested in that.”
“And what are you interested in exactly?” Jonathan questioned.
Charlie considered his own previous statement and the question before answering. “Well, more than that, then, I suppose.”
“So, tell me again why you’re planning on spending your time with J. J. Astor instead of Meg then?”
Charlie smoothed back his hair. “You have a point. All right, I’ll pay a token visit to the Smoking Lounge and then come back here to change into something less formal. We’ll go see if this party is all it’s cracked up to be. But if Meg’s not there, I’m not going to show up at her door, risk waking the baby, just to beg her to attend a party I’m not invited to. Deal?”
“Deal,” Jonathan agreed.
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