Written by Angela Cribben, Carrie Riches, and M.R. Donofrio
Based on some situations originated by James Cameron.

Chippewa Falls--May 1912

Anne looked up curiously as the bell over the door rang out. She was surprised to see that the person who walked in was unfamiliar to her. Chippewa Falls being the small town that it was, it was rare to see a stranger. And even more rare to see a stranger who looked as this one did. The young woman was stunning, her red hair hanging about her shoulders in a mass of curls. Her blue eyes met Anne's before giving her a shy smile. Anne returned it briefly, but there was still something bothering her about the girl, something she couldn't peg down. Other than an extraordinary beauty, there was nothing that stood out about her appearance. And while she did not appear unfriendly in anyway, there was a difference in how she carried herself. Standing perfectly straight, poised, with just a small hint of obstinance in the set of her jaw. If it weren't for her style of dress, Anne would have sworn she was of a higher set than the rest of them. Placing her bags on the floor, she leaned across the counter to talk to Mr. Roberts. Anne paid only the slightest attention to what was being said. Until she heard a name spoken.

"No Dawsons around here anymore...haven't been for years. Not since the boy left town a few years ago." The shopkeeper shook his head sadly. "Very sad that...losing his parents at such a young age." He brightened suddenly. "There was talk of him returning, but so far nothing has come of it. Be a big welcome for him when he finally does decide to show. That boy has been sorely missed, sorely missed."

He gave the young woman a sad smile before shaking his head and moving away to help another customer. Inexplicably, a sadness seemed to cross the girl's face. "Jack." Intense anger and pain competed for space in her heart after hearing his name spoken with such affection and longing. Who was this girl? Tears gathered in her eyes as she thought back to when he had left, not long after his parents had died in a house fire, though she had tried to persuade him to stay.

*****

"You can live with my family, Jack." She looked up at him with a pained expression. "And if you don't want to, I'm sure there are plenty of other people who would have you. They all understand what you're going through. How much you're..."

"Hurting?" His sky blue eyes gazed at her. Where a week ago there had been youthful exuberance, now there was only pain.

Tears again flooded his eyes as he looked down at the ground. "They can't know. They all have people who care about them. I don't." Though Anne knew his words were caused by grief, they cut right through her anyway.

Always small for her age, he'd come to her aid when she was getting teased on her first day in town. Ever since then, she'd been entranced by the blond-haired, blue-eyed boy who could make her smile with just a look. Years passed before she realized he was more than a friend to her, as she was to him.

That first kiss had been awkward, but sweet. They usually walked home from school together anyway, but this occasion was different. Instead of the typical "See you tomorrow" that she received at the gate, he had stood there looking at her. Before she could say anything, he just leaned in and kissed her cheek. She had been too shocked to react, but couldn't help but be amused by the instant blush that had spread across his face. From then on, there was a subtle shift in their friendship…a closeness that hadn't existed before.

Two months later, his parents died. And the boy she had dreamt of marrying had been replaced. Replaced by the empty shell that now stood before her, satchel in hand.

"I care."

Guilt seemed to momentarily flush out part of his grief. "I know. But right now, it's just not enough." At her pained expression, he reached out to hold her hand. "That's not what I meant. You know I care about you, but there are too many memories here. I can't stay."

So he really meant to leave Chippewa Falls...to leave her.

"W-where will you go?" He just looked away from her, shrugging.

"I don’t know...anywhere that isn't here." He looked back at her, a new determination in his eyes. "But I'll come back. I promise. As soon as I've seen enough to forget the pain. And I always keep my promises." His eyes seemed to burn into hers. Anne just nodded, her tears blinding her. Jack reached out to gently brush them away before opening his bag to hand her something. "Here…I drew this for you yesterday. It's a picture of us, something to remember me by."

She clutched it to her chest. "I wouldn't have forgotten you. Not ever. I love--"

"Don't say it." An inexplicable anger seemed to fill him. "I always lose those that I love. It's enough to know that you care...as a friend." She looked at him, confused. Why was he denying that she meant more to him than that?

"All right, Jack. I won't say it." But the look in his eyes told her that it wasn't enough. That he didn't even want her to feel it. "Don't stay away too long." Smiling sadly, he squeezed her hand.

"I'll try not to. Thank you...for everything. Bye, Anne. I'll see you." He hugged her to him tightly before turning to walk away. He didn't look back.

Watching him leave, she knew she couldn't do what his eyes had begged her to do. "I'll wait for you, Jack." This time he wasn't here to stop her words. "I love you."

Anne shook herself from her reverie, returning her attention to the girl that was now roaming the store, picking things up, examining them, and then setting them down again. She certainly had a different air about her than anyone else in the store, and Anne wondered why that was. More importantly, she was curious as to how she knew Jack. She felt a pang of jealousy when she again thought of how she had said his name. With such feeling it seemed more like she was calling him by name than just saying it.

Silently, Anne focused back on what she had come here to do. She took the list her mother had given her from her pocket, reading the words written in her mother's delicate handwriting, mentally checking off the items she had already collected in the basket. From the looks of the list, her mother meant to bake quite a bit today. Possibly her famous cakes and cookies…and bread.

Tears welled in her eyes then, remembering how much Jack had always loved her mother's freshly baked bread, how he would make it a point to come over when she was in a baking mood and sit at their kitchen table. Constantly complimenting her mother on how good it smelled. The aroma of bread still reminded her of Jack. Whenever her mother decided to make it, she would usually go outside and stay silently with her memories, trying hard not to cry.

After she had picked up the last item, she approached the counter. The old man behind the counter had been the storekeeper for as long as she could remember, and seeing him smile brought her out of her sadness. "Good day, Mr. Roberts! How is Mrs. Roberts? I heard she wasn't feeling too well as of late."

Mr. Roberts smile faded, and he nodded solemnly while he totaled up the prices in a notebook, his old hands carefully writing down everything. "My Eugenia has been under the weather lately, 'tis true. But, that is what comes about when you get as old as her and I. 'Course, as young as you are, you won't be needing to worry 'bout that for quite some time!" He smiled and winked at her then, his attention turning to behind her. Curiously, she turned and came face to face with the young red-headed woman. She smiled politely, but then returned her gaze to Mr. Roberts.

"Ma'am, I am truly sorry I could not help you in your search. But Anne here was quite close to the family for many years, especially with that youngest boy I mentioned!"

Anne closed her eyes silently, wishing that he hadn't brought that up, but since he had, she turned and smiled. "Yes, I was. Their house was quite near mine, really. I knew the children from school mostly. I was very close to Jack." The woman looked startled at that last statement, surveying Anne with as much curiosity as she had done to her when their eyes first met. She couldn't tell if that was jealousy or not, but the girl didn't even smile then, so she figured that she must have hit a nerve.

"Yes, 'tis too true! They sure were!" Mr. Roberts smiled cheerfully, obviously thinking that Anne was enjoying this as much as he, which she wasn't.

"Well, sir, I was hoping that perhaps you could give me directions to where their home used to be, so I could see it. I'm just really curious as to where they lived." Mr. Roberts nodded, taking out a piece of paper and beginning to scratch on it a map while he tried to tell her the directions. Suddenly, he stopped and looked at Anne with a smile.

"Why, Annie here lives right near to it! You wouldn't mind showing her the way, would you?"

Anne wished right then that she hadn't come here now, but just nodded hesitantly, not wanting to upset the kind old man. "If the young miss wishes." She glanced at the girl, who didn't look too enthusiastic about the idea. But by the look she was giving the directions on the paper, certainly didn't have much experience with finding her way around. With a small sigh, she nodded, trying to look as cheerful as possible when she smiled at Mr. Roberts and Anne.

"Well, then, see how easy that was? Anne, would you like me to put that on your bill, and when your Pa comes in he can pay?" She nodded, taking up the basket she always brought to carry the groceries. The girl paid next, handing Mr. Roberts the few cents she owed him. Then she silently followed Anne out of the store and onto the relatively quiet street.

As the pair headed toward what remained of Jack's home, Anne studied the other young woman's face again. It was only then that she really saw the sadness in her eyes. Sadness she was somehow sure had something to do with Jack, from the way she had said his name just moments ago.

Anne saw the other girl was studying her just as closely now, and had to look away. Something about her disturbed Anne, though what it was, she didn't know. If only she could have gotten out of this errand somehow. But they were already on their way; there was no avoiding it now. Anne decided to try her best to at least be polite to this stranger. In the end all she could manage was to ask what her name was. She thought about asking what exactly had brought her here, why she wanted so much to see Jack's house. But Anne found she didn't really want to know.

The only answer Anne got to her question was a simple "Rose. My name is Rose." She didn't even volunteer her last name. Deciding now was not the time for talking, they walked the rest of the short distance to the old Dawson house in silence.

When they got there, Anne didn't venture too close. She actually tried to avoid passing this place, even though it was so close to her own. She knew how painful losing his parents in the fire had been for Jack. That was what had ultimately driven him away. But Anne knew in her heart that someday Jack would come back home. He had promised. And, as he himself had told her, he always kept his promises.

As Anne lingered further off, she was surprised to see Rose enter the house. There wasn't much left inside at all, Anne supposed. It had to be just a shell, really.

But as Rose disappeared inside, Anne decided that if there were anything left, she had more of a right to see it than the nearly silent person she had brought here. Having not been nearly this close; let alone within its walls since the fire, Anne had to summon a bit of courage to go up the porch steps and through the door.

She walked into the house, but Rose wasn't just in the entranceway, where she had expected her to linger. Her lips tightened, and she shook her head fiercely. Who did that girl think she was? Wandering freely around the house so soon.

A strange coldness suddenly pervaded the house, and Anne wrapped her arms around herself tightly. She supposed it came from the knowledge that two people had died in here, and that Jack very likely could have. A part of her hesitated to venture further into the building, but she didn't trust what Rose might be doing.

Her feet seemed to lead her there of their own accord, to the room where she had spent much of her childhood. "This was his room, wasn't it?" The smoothly modulated tones came from the figure in black huddled on the floor. Anne hadn't even known she was in here.

"Yeah, it was." Her response came out acidly, and Rose actually lifted her head, obviously surprised at the vehemence of it. But she made no comment, just went back to her intense study of the room, or one part of the room anyway. Curious, Anne walked further in to see what it was that had her so entranced, her cheeks flushing angrily when she saw what it was. "I really don't think you should be touching that. He always considered that private. Even I wasn't allowed to look."

She had opened a small metal box; a box that Anne knew had once been dark blue in color. Her head flew back up to study Anne again, and the gaze, while not openly hostile, wasn't entirely friendly, either. After a moment her face fell, and tears formed in her eyes. "Oh, I don't think he would mind." It was said with such certainty that Anne hesitated in her attempt to grab the box back. For an instant, she was actually tempted to sit down beside her and look at the contents. As it was, she couldn't stop herself from looking over her shoulder.

A sob seemed to hitch in Rose's throat as she shuffled through childish drawings, drawings that got progressively better. "He was gifted from the start, wasn't he? He really did see people." Rose gazed up at her, her blue eyes filled with tears. "I envy you, knowing him then."

Finding herself surprisingly moved, Anne had to blink back the tears before Rose's words could register. Annoyed that she had let her guard down, she moved quickly to Rose's side and grabbed the box from her hands, scattering the pictures as she did so. Horrified, she knelt down to pick them up. Mixed in with the drawings was an old photograph, one that brought the tears back to her eyes. Though it had been taken years ago, she remembered it as if it were yesterday. Jack had his arm slung casually around her shoulders, his typical goofy grin spread across his face. But before she could pick it up, Rose reached out and grabbed it herself, gazing at it eagerly. "He didn't change much at all. How old were you here, twelve, thirteen? He would've aged well..." Inexplicably overcome with tears, Rose clutched the photograph tightly, hugging herself as she rocked gently against the floor.

Puzzled by that statement, and embarrassed by the display, Anne hurried out of the room, pacing the hallway furiously. Who was this girl? How did she know Jack? Her perfectly manicured nails testified to a privileged upbringing, and unless Jack had experienced a sudden run of good luck, there was no logical way that Anne could figure on them meeting, let alone developing a connection of any kind. A connection that she was rapidly growing to fear. For years, she had held onto the hope that he would come home. But in picturing their reunion, there had never been a red-haired girl; it had always been just the two of them.

He had written not too long ago of his imminent return, asking her to tell the rest of the people for him. The letter hadn't told much of his life since he had left Chippewa Falls, just that he was finally ready to put the memories to rest and come home. But there had been no mention of a girl of any sort, something that had given her renewed hope for the future.

Realizing just how long she had left Rose alone in the room, she stalked back in angrily and grabbed the box back again, slamming the lid shut. "I told you he wouldn't want you snooping around in here. This was...special to him, and I know he would want me to take care of it for him, at least until he gets back."

Laughing bitterly, Rose stood up, shoving the photograph into her coat pocket. "Gets back? You'll have a long wait for that." Anne reached out as if to take the picture back, but Rose blocked the pocket protectively. "Please, it's all I have left." Unshed tears glistened in her eyes, and she turned as if to leave.

Furious, Anne grabbed her arm. "Look, I don't know who you are, or even why you think you have some supposed connection to Jack, but I really wish you wouldn't make light of his absence."

"Trust me, I'm not. I feel it more with every second that passes. So don't talk to me about making light of his absence. You're still talking as if..." Rose cut off suddenly, a horrified expression on her face. "Never mind."

Tightening her grip on Rose, Anne narrowed her gaze. "As if what? I'm getting tired of your cryptic statements. Why don't you just come out and tell me this great secret of yours? You seem to think you know him so well. What are you hiding? And while you're at it, why don't you tell me your name?" Rose opened her mouth as if to speak. "Your full name."

"Do you really want to know?" The question was asked so sadly, Anne was taken aback, but she nodded anyway. "All right, then. I never wanted to do it this way, but since you seem so determined to dredge up painful memories, I'll tell you."

There was a long moment of silence as the two women gazed at each other.

"Dawson. Rose Dawson."

Anne gasped at her words, obviously taken aback by what she had just said. It couldn't be. Was this woman Jack's…wife? Her mind reeled with the thoughts, while her heart almost screamed out with pain and jealousy. This Rose could not be any relation to the Dawsons. She was a society girl. It was as plain as day. And yet, she carried their name, and from the look on her face she carried Jack's heart with her as well.

There was silence for a long time as Anne stared at her, Rose's eyes never meeting her own, instead wandering the room to hide the tears that threatened to fall. When she finally regained her composure, Anne started to stammer out a question when all of a sudden she was interrupted by a woman's voice yelling down the hall. "Anne! Anne! Where are you?" It was her mother's voice, soft and singsong, that was calling her. Rose was a bit startled when she walked into the room, her blue eyes examining her mother's tall, lanky frame with interest.

As always, Emma was dressed simply, in a plain brown dress with her hair up in a bun. She had never been one for showy jewelry, or any at all for that matter, except for the simple wedding band that she always wore on her finger. She had been a pretty woman in her day, and still was, even though hard work and childbearing had worn her body out over the years. She had been pregnant six times; it was no wonder her body was worn out. That four of them had been miscarriages had almost made it worse. And the emotional pain from those times was visible in her graying hair and soft wrinkles forming on her face.

"Anne, there you are! I've been waiting for you. I got worried and went to the store to find you, but Mr. Roberts told me you were helping a young lady find this old place. You must be she. My, aren't you a pretty thing!"

Rose seemed unused to the friendly way her mother spoke to her, and only smiled modestly, her cheeks blushing momentarily. It was obvious to Anne that Rose hadn't forgot their conversation moments ago any more than she had, but still she gave Emma a cheery, if small, greeting.

"Thank you. Nice to meet you Mrs.…"

"Oh, dear, don't call me Mrs., it makes me feel so old. My mama named me Emma, and please call me by it. No use having a first name when no one calls you by it, now is there?" Rose nodded, her face lightening into a smile, having been put at ease by this woman's cheerful demeanor.

"No, there isn't. My name is Rose." Emma smiled, reaching to shake her hand, which she did, but then to Rose's surprise hooked her arm into hers and started to walk out of the room with her, chatting happily about welcoming her to the community. Anne was a bit put off by this, but picked up the basket of groceries and followed anyway, her mother stopping once they were outside and turning back to Rose with a kind smile.

"Where is it you are staying, honey? Do you have a place to go?"

Rose looked down, surveying the ground beneath her thoughtfully. Anne realized that she was getting more and more annoyed with this Rose girl by the moment.

"I…I really don't know yet." She raised her eyes to meet Emma's momentarily, but then dropped them again when she noticed Anne's acrimonious expression as she moved to the side of her mother. "I think probably a hotel."

"Oh, now Rose, no friend of mine stays in a hotel! That just is not very hospitable. My oldest daughter Teresa moved out a few months ago when she got married, so you can use her room for as long as you like. Any friend of the Dawsons is a friend of ours. Ain't that right, Annie?" Anne nodded tersely, her eyes wandering over the girl in front of her suspiciously, though she didn't exactly know why she disliked Rose so much, other than the fact that she knew Jack. It was possible that if she hadn't known Jack, Anne would have wanted her friendship, but not now, not if she was who she thought her to be.

"Of course, Mama. We'd be glad to have Rose stay with us…for awhile." Emma didn't really notice the last comment as anything strange, but Rose got the point loud and clear, and Anne knew it. Don't overstay your welcome, little girl. That's how she had meant it, and Rose knew it.

"All right, but only for a little while, until I can maybe find a place of my own to stay at." Emma seemed satisfied with that answer, and slung her arm around her shoulder as they started away toward Anne's home. Anne followed again, glaring at Rose's back with anger and frustration. This ought to be interesting, she thought with an annoyed smirk.

Rose seemed to have more secrets inside, and since she hadn't had the opportunity to get all the details just moments ago, this stay might be just what she needed to get every bit of information on Jack from this dimwit of a woman. She couldn't read the map the store clerk had given her, and most certainly didn't look too comfortable with the friendly way her mother spoke to her. Her well kept hands showed that she hadn't had an honest day’s work in her life. Anne suspected that she couldn’t even boil water. If this was Jack's wife, he certainly had gotten some more sophisticated taste in his travels. She couldn't believe for a second that this was Jack's wife. She probably just wished she was. After all, Jack would have married someone with some family values and some experience around a home. Maybe he had had a love affair with this girl, but he certainly wouldn't have married someone like her. But whatever she was to him, Anne was determined to get it out of her, no matter what. Yes, this ought to be quite interesting.

When they arrived back at her house, Anne forced her thoughts of the last few moments to the back of her mind. She didn't want to risk her parents suspecting how much she disliked the idea of Rose staying with them. Besides, she planned to deal with Rose in her own way later.

Emma immediately introduced Rose to her husband, who was reading the daily paper when they entered. He put down his reading as the pair stepped closer, while Anne herself lingered near the doorway.

"James, dear, this is Rose. Anne was showing her the Dawson place. She is new in town, and has nowhere to stay, so I invited her to stay here."

James and Rose exchanged greetings. Then, he added, "Why, of course she should stay here! We do have the room, after all. And even a stranger should have people to welcome them."

Anne was dismayed by her father's reaction. She had held out hope that he would object to her mother's wishes. But they were both so open and friendly that deep down she knew it was not to be.

Resigned to the fact that Rose would be staying, Anne moved closer to everyone else, resolved to act as politely as she could. In front of her parents, at least. But she was rescued from this necessity when her mother said, "Annie, come on into the kitchen and help me with supper. It isn't even started yet!"

She happily consented, immediately doing as her mother asked. Emma hesitated another moment, and Anne listened as she said, "Goodness, where are my manners? Rose, the room you will use is just up the stairs, on the right. You look very tired. Maybe you ought to nap before supper."

"Yes, I think I will. Thank you." A moment later, Anne heard Rose politely excuse herself and go upstairs. So they would have to take a meal together before Anne could ask Rose all the questions weighing on her mind.. She decided she could wait. All she knew was that when the time came, she wanted answers.

After supper that night, Rose again retired to her room. Anne began to feel that she was simply avoiding her. If Rose was not going to be forthcoming on her own, Anne was going to have to make her talk.

Telling her mother she wanted to get to know their visitor better, she went upstairs, surprised to find Rose's door wide open. As there was no one around to see her, Anne simply walked into the room without waiting to be invited, closing the door behind her.

Rose had appeared to be lost in thought as she sat there on the bed, but as soon as Anne entered, she met her gaze directly, saying, "I've been waiting for you to come up here. You seemed very eager to know who I was earlier. I'm sure you still want to know, don't you?"

Anne met Rose's blue eyes steadily. She knew this was her chance, maybe the only one she would get.

She plunged ahead, determined to get the answers she wanted. "Yes. First of all, why do you carry Jack's last name? You aren't...married to him, are you?" Rose just shook her head. "Then how do you know him?"

She saw tears welling up in Rose's eyes. "We were very much in love. I love him still."

Anne felt the rage building inside of her. Rose was lying. He couldn't have loved a woman like this.

"No, that can't be. Jack promised he would be coming back soon, back to me. He keeps his promises."

Anne saw the pain that shadowed Rose's eyes, and was only more confused. And what Rose said then struck fear into Anne's heart. "Not this time, he won't."

A combination of worry, curiosity, and fear brought Anne to the end of her patience. "What do you mean? Where is Jack? I want you to tell me, now."

For the first time since Anne had entered, Rose stood up. Her voice was very faint as she answered. "He won't be coming home again because...because he's dead." She began to cry, while Anne just stood there in shock. "I didn't want to tell you like this, but you asked. I would have explained in my own way, in time."

Anne seemed not to hear this. "How?" Even though Anne did not like this woman, she could see from the look in her eyes that she was telling the truth.

Still reeling from Rose's blunt statement, Anne sat down on the bed, choking back harsh sobs.

"Just tell me how." Rose looked at her pityingly for a moment, and Anne could barely restrain herself from leaping off the bed in frustration. Rose sighed deeply before she also sat down, her hands clasped tightly in her lap, head bent.

"I know I won't have to tell you the details of this. The papers made sure everyone knew what had happened." Rose lifted her head slowly, and the haunted look in her eyes increased her dread. "But you can't know...nobody can."

"W-what are you talking about?"

"I've told you that we loved each other." Rose was continuing on, seemingly oblivious to the pain that Anne knew had flashed across her face at the reminder. "And that love cost him his life." Rose looked directly into her eyes now. "You were right when you said that Jack always kept his promises. He was coming home. But he chose the wrong way to do it, or maybe it was the right way. Who knows?" Rose smiled sadly, obviously lost in a memory. "Whichever it was, I can't regret anything about him being there. Save one thing." Guilt crossed her face, and she looked back down at her hands, one holding the other tightly. "I should never have let go..."

If Anne had been baffled before, she was utterly lost now. "Just tell me. Where is he now?" The words were whispered, she was afraid if she spoke any louder that her tears would fall as uncontrollably as Rose's were. And while she desperately wanted to let them, she refused to do it in Rose's presence. The tears suddenly stopped, and Rose looked up at her numbly. "I let him go, you see. I stayed there, watching as he sank further away from me. Then he was just...gone. Almost as if everything had been a dream. The only proof that he had ever existed was that I still did."

"Where is he?" Anne stood up, hands clenched at her sides tightly. "Where is Jack?"

Rose looked at her with an intensity that was frightening. "At the bottom of the Atlantic Ocean. With all the other nameless faces that I left behind that night."

She sounded half-dead as she spoke, but Anne didn't care. All she cared about was her own pain, pain this woman was now mocking. Rushing across the room, she dealt Rose a hard slap. "I asked you for the truth, something you owe me. You march into town, declaring your love for the man I was going to marry one day. A man whose death you're now mocking."

"Then listen to me...listen to me closely." There was a steely look in Rose's eyes that Anne hadn't seen before. "I was trying to be kind, to spare you from the nightmares, the things I see whenever I close my eyes. If you want the truth, then sit down and listen to me. Listen to every single agonizing moment that I suffered, that Jack suffered. Then maybe you'll be satisfied." Stunned into silence by the naked pain in her eyes, Anne nodded, doing as Rose said.

*****

"And so I survived." Rose had her back turned now, and was gazing sightlessly out the window. "But I'm not living, not yet. I know I will someday, though. I owe him that much. I have to live for the both of us now."

Anne watched as Rose turned to look at her solemnly, tears shining in her eyes. Her emotions seemed to be battling for control. On one hand, an intense grief for Jack. And on the other, a resounding jealousy for what they had shared. Unable to speak, she simply stood and walked out of the room.

It was a faint glow that alerted her to Rose's presence on the porch. And though she didn't fully understand why, she ventured out to sit beside her, gratefully accepting the cigarette that Rose offered her.

It had been mere hours since she had learned of Jack's death. Only hours since she had learned that he had deeply loved another woman; and had died for her. And she knew Rose was right. Those images would haunt her forever. "You don't believe that he loved me, that we loved each other, do you?" Rose just looked at her.

"You think our love was just a passing fancy."

Smiling sadly, Rose shook her head. "I could never call it that. Not after knowing Jack." Rose sighed as she stubbed out her cigarette. "I would give anything to bring Jack home to you...and back to my side again. And I would never doubt that the love you shared was real. But I can't help knowing that somehow, Jack and I were meant to be together. And maybe someday, we will be again. That is my only sustaining thought right now. Please don't take that away from me."

"I won't. I couldn't even if I wanted to, not after all you've told me. But I can't stand the thought that he just stopped caring about me. That he could just walk out of town and forget about me."

Rose just looked at her sternly for a moment, but her face quickly softened. "You know that isn't true. He wouldn't do that. He wanted desperately to come home. He had time to tell me that, if nothing else about his past." Anne had looked away from her, and was surprised to feel her fingers gently turn her head back. "One thing I do know. He would never have stopped caring. Maybe it isn't the intense love you've wanted all these years. But he would never have let go of you, not as you think."

Looking into her eyes, Anne realized she couldn't deny the sincerity in Rose's words, nor the truth behind them.

The days following her finding out about Jack's untimely death, Anne went through a period of turmoil that she supposed was mourning. Because she had never lost anyone close to her before, she had never understood how it felt; how Jack had felt all those years ago. She was friendly with Rose, but exactly what she was feeling was lost to her. The pain she felt at knowing Jack was forever gone, and the knowledge that he never would have married her even if he had survived, were too intense for her.

Yet, as the days wore on, Anne began to realize that it hardly affected her anymore. The pain of his death was still there, of course, but having seen the love shining in Rose's eyes, it became obvious that what she and Jack had shared was not what she had always hoped it would be. They had been great friends and they had cared for one another deeply. But it had been nothing more than that, and Anne was surprised to realize that what it had been was enough for her.

Rose had insisted on telling Anne's parents herself, and they too had cried with her. Anne had heard their tears, but she hadn't been in the same room with them. Instead she had chosen to stay outside, rocking herself gently on the porch swing. It was comforting to watch the stars twinkle in the sky, the warm breeze sweeping past her face, giving its own gentle caress. Anne liked to think that it was Jack making sure she knew he was there, comforting her pain a bit, and letting her know that he hadn't forgotten her after all. As she sat there late one night, she was startled by a light touch on her shoulder. She jumped back in surprise, her eyes raising to see Rose standing next to her, a giggle escaping her lips.

"Sorry, I didn't think I looked that bad when I got out of bed!"

Anne laughed then, happy to finally be able to let a smile cross her face. Rose did the same, then sat beside her, happily being comforted by the rhythm the swing was swaying in.

"Oh, no. You just surprised me is all. I'm actually glad you came out here. I was thinking just now about something, and if you don't mind…"

"Oh, please, whatever it is, you can share it with me." She grinned then, her gentle eyes sparkling. "It's good to know that you trust me enough to share your thoughts with me." Anne nodded, smiling as well, trying to collect the right words before she continued.

"Well, I was thinking about the love you and Jack shared, and I realized that…well, what you had was special, and that what Jack and I had was nothing like it. I don't feel half as much for him as you do, and for some reason, it doesn't bother me. We, Jack and I, were friends, and if we had married, then I would never have felt what love truly must be. What I see in your eyes, I would never have felt that strongly." She paused then, looking to Rose for reassurance that she could continue, which she gave with a small nod. "To have married, well, that was just the next logical step, you know. Just…what was expected of us, I suppose. And…I…well, perhaps somewhere out there is someone meant for me, you know? Someone I will feel that strongly about, that I will love that much."

Rose smiled again, reaching out and taking Anne's hand in her own gently. "I'm sure there is, Anne. I really do believe there is someone out there that will feel that way for you, and you will love as well. You just have to wait for him to come. You have Jack's friendship. He will always be a part of you, just as he will be with me. That's how people go on, inside those that loved them." Anne nodded again, feeling a tear slide down her cheek. She looked up at Rose's kind face, and saw that she too had a tear fighting to break free, yet her mouth was turned up into a small smile.

"Yes, I know. That's why I've come to a conclusion…one that I think Jack would have approved of." Rose's brows furrowed then in confusion, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. Anne looked off into the distance for a moment, at the place about her that had been her home and life since before she could remember; where all her memories, dreams, and hopes had always been centered.

She took a deep breath of the fresh air, the same air that had first filled her newborn lungs, the place she had always thought would be home to her. She again looked back to Rose, who patiently waited, her hand gently caressing Anne's own in a sign of friendship.

"What is that, Anne?" Rose shifted her position until she was directly facing Anne, their eyes meeting in the understanding that their shared loss had given them.

"I've decided to leave Chippewa Falls."

"Where will you go, Anne?" Rose didn't seem at all surprised by her announcement.

"I haven’t decided that yet. All I know is that it’s time for me move on. I’ve hardly even been outside of this town. There is so much more to see, and I’m going to. I’ve been waiting here for Jack to come home, and now that I know he’s...there really is no reason for me to stay."

Rose was silent for a moment. "Do your parents know you plan to leave?"

"No, not yet. But I know they’ll be upset. They always expected I would stay close to them. I'll feel terrible letting them down."

Rose gazed at Anne so intently she almost had to look away. "They'll get used to you being away. You have to do what will make you happy."

"I know. It's just..." Anne trailed off, not sure she could explain how tightly knit her family really was, something that she knew Rose had never had. "I suppose I should go tell them now, get it over with."

Rose nodded absently, lost in her own thoughts. Anne knew what she had to be thinking about. She got up slowly, going inside as quietly as she could.

*****

It had gone much as she had expected, except that her mother had actually cried. Anne actually thought about changing her mind; but she now that she had decided, there was no going back.

At last, Anne went upstairs to turn in for the night. As she climbed the stairs, she thought of something she needed to ask Rose. She had gone up to her room some time ago, and Anne expected she would be asleep. Nonetheless, she went to her door and knocked softly. Rose answered almost immediately, inviting her into the room. "I’m sorry to bother you at this hour, but I wanted to ask you if you would go with me to Jack’s old place again tomorrow. It’s important."

Rose gazed at her, smiling gently. "Of course I'll go with you. I wouldn't mind another look myself." She knew Rose was curious at the intensity of the question, but to her relief, didn't inquire further.

*****

At first light the next morning, Anne and Rose set out on the short walk to the Dawson house. This time, they both entered it with much more ease. Anne immediately went to the Jack's old room, Rose following silently behind. Only when they were both in that room did either of them speak. Anne went and picked up the metal box she had once snatched so violently from Rose’s hands.

She held it out to her tentatively. "I think you should have this. It isn’t right that it has been kept up here, where no one could enjoy the drawings it holds. Jack would want you to have it."

Tears sprang to Rose’s eyes, and she seemed stunned, only capable of whispering a quiet "Thank you." Taking the box from Anne, she cradled it protectively. Anne closed her eyes tightly, her mind going back to happier times. When she opened her eyes, the room seemed to have resurrected itself to its former state. But the image passed quickly, and she again saw the charred remains that surrounded her.

Rose was gazing at her intently, and the haunted look in her eyes told Anne that she understood what had just happened. "Anne, I know you've already given me so much, more than you'll ever know." She indicated the box in her arms. "But I have one more favor to ask you."

Anne looked at her curiously. From the tone she knew it was something important. Rose cleared her throat awkwardly before continuing, her blue eyes meeting Anne's. "I've told you of the Jack that I knew. But we had so little time together. All I know of his childhood is of him falling through the ice one winter." Anne smiled grimly, recalling quite vividly when that had happened. Jack had been a weak swimmer at that time, and to think she might have lost him then, in the icy cold waters of the lake…she immediately silenced the voice that threatened to remind her of how he had died, that the water had spared him once only to claim him later. Rose was gazing at the floor, her eyes brimming with tears.

"All I have of him now is this box. This box and the memories of those few days we were given. I wouldn't trade those memories for anything." She looked at up Anne pleadingly. "Can you give me more?"

*****

Anne was surprised to see that Rose wasn't at the table when she walked into the kitchen. She had taken to getting up early each day to help her mother, in gratitude for them putting her up, she had explained. "If you're looking for Rose, she left early this morning." Her mother sat sedately at the end of the table, but her face showed that she had been crying. "She said she couldn't stand to say good-bye again. She left you this." Her mother held out a plain white envelope with Anne's name written neatly on the front. Anne took the envelope hesitantly, feeling angry all of a sudden. After all they had been through the past few days, for Rose to just up and leave like that…but her anger vanished as soon as she read the first few lines of the letter.

Anne,

I know it seems cruel of me to leave you like this, but believe me when I say that I won't ever forget you. Last night you gave me more of a gift than you'll ever realize. Through your stories of your childhood; yours and Jack's, you brought him back to life. Even if it was just for a little while. And had life worked out fairly, he would have been able to tell me those stories himself. We were denied that chance, and there will always be a part of me that will feel that pain, a part of me that will always be with him. I don't think I'll ever understand why he was taken from me just as I'd found him.

But grief doesn't last forever. I know one day I'll wake up and truly realize the value of his gift, even if all I can see right now is the pain. He gave me my life back. Now, it is up to me to live it the best way that I can. And I know he would want the same for you. Whatever happens, please know that you will always be in my thoughts, just as Jack is. I wish you well on your own journey. Maybe we'll meet again.

Your friend,
Rose Dawson

Anne ignored her mother's puzzled look and went back upstairs, glancing into the spare bedroom where Rose had stayed for the last few days. There was something on the pillow, and when she got closer she could see that it was the picture Rose had fought so strongly to keep. Anne wondered briefly if she had forgotten it, then realized that it had been left behind intentionally. Her eyes misted over as she looked at the familiar grin, his arm slung around her shoulders. Sitting on the bed, she clutched the photograph and closed her eyes tightly. And though she couldn't be sure, it seemed as she could feel the weight of his arm settle around her once again. Opening her eyes, she looked around at the empty room before returning her gaze to the picture, smiling sadly. "She needs you now, Jack. I'll be all right."

Miles away, tucked safely within a charred metal box, a blue heart sparkled.

The End.

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