Jack had been too busy watching Rose to notice the wall of water heading straight for them. Her name was all he had time to say before it hit.
Rose turned around, confused. "Jack—" The rest of her words were cut off as she was swept under.
Jack fought his way to the top, but she was gone. "Rose!" he called as another, smaller wave crashed into him. Salt water filled his mouth. "Rose!" His eyes burned. "Rose!"
"Jack!" Her voice sounded like it was coming through a tunnel. "Jack, where are you?" In the distance, he could see her arms flailing. Hair covered her face. Spitting water, she pushed it aside. She was shaking; her heart pounded in her chest. Where was he? She moved her arms in a wide circle, hoping her hand would land in his. "Jack!" She couldn't hear anything but the water. She couldn't feel anything else, either. The water was up to her breasts; when had she gone out that far? The wave must have swept me out. And then the sickening realization that Jack could be anywhere, that he could be trapped underwater, even, set in. "Jack!" she screamed as she began to run. She flailed her arms wildly. "Jack!"
Jack ran toward her. "Stay still, Rose!" he called. "It's okay!" Thunder rumbled overhead. Suddenly, the bright, sunny day was replaced by a black sky. The water began to churn around him. He could see another wave building. "Rose! Come to my voice!" he yelled. He flew through the water. The distance between them was closing. Almost there—
And then the wave hit.
The next thing Jack knew, he was on the beach, flat on his back. Breathing hurt. His mouth tasted like a box of salt had been dumped down his throat. Hot tears filled his eyes. He scrambled to his feet. "Rose?" he called. A hard rain had begun to fall. Lightning streaked across the sky. He began to run down the beach. "Rose!"
*****
Cal didn't stop to think about what he was doing before he plunged into the water. The figure in the distance was so small, he couldn't tell anything about it except that it was a person. And it wasn't moving. He could have easily ignored it. At least, that was what he told himself as he swam toward the figure, but he didn't quite believe that deep down. There was something pulling him out there. I do have a conscience, after all, he thought. Lovely.
Rose was limp as he tossed her over his shoulder. The rain was falling in sheets. He had to fight to get back to the beach. Once there, he collapsed, laying Rose on her back. Matted red curls framed her pale face. Her eyes were closed. He stared at her for a moment, too shocked to do anything else. Her eyelids fluttered. She began to cough weakly. He put an arm behind her back and shifted her into a sitting position. Her coughing grew louder. She leaned forward, gasping for breath. "Jack?" she asked, reaching out to him.
"Rose!"
Cal watched, dumbfounded, as Jack dropped to his knees in front of Rose. He gathered her into his arms. She clutched his shirt and pressed her face into his chest. "I couldn't find you," she said. "You were right. I can't—"
"Shh." Slowly, Jack began to rock her back and forth. Gradually, her shaking subsided. "I should've been holding onto you," he said. "I wasn't watching the water." Neither of them noticed the water pouring from the sky.
"And I didn't hear it," she said, forcing out a laugh.
He kissed her forehead. "Doesn't matter."
It wasn't until he was helping Rose to her feet that Jack noticed Cal. He did a quick double take. What the hell? But he pushed his confusion aside. Rose was what mattered at that moment. "C'mon, Petal," he said, putting his arm around her. "Let's get you inside where it's dry."
She nodded. "Okay."
Jack shot a glance at Cal over her head. Are you coming? it said.
Jack ignored Cal on the walk back to the house. Rose didn't even seem to realize anyone else was with them. The storm was too loud for her to hear his footsteps. Once they were inside, Jack whisked her off to their room, sending Cal a silent command to stay where he was over his shoulder.
Cal scowled at the back of Jack's head as he disappeared through the door that led to the hallway. Who did he think he was, looking at him like that? It isn't as though he's—oh. He is. The reversal in their roles left Cal feeling dizzy. Here he was standing in the house Jack owned, which, from the looks of it, was not anything to be ashamed of even by pre-Depression standards. Where did he get the money? Cal wondered. And how does he still have it?
"Paintings."
Cal spun around. "What?"
Jack stood in the doorway. "Where the money came from," he said. "We collected the geniuses of the twenties long before anyone else did."
"You can't be serious." Cal pointed at the painting above the fireplace. "That. You got money from that?"
"It's a Surrealist piece."
"A what?"
"What do you do with your time?" Jack asked incredulously. "How did you get through the last decade without hearing about Surrealism?" He had wondered more than once what would happen if he and Cal ever met again, but a debate about art was never what he pictured happening. But there was no need to start a fight with him. He hadn't done anything. And if Eva marries Dylan… "It doesn't matter," he said. "I don't know why I'm surprised." Before Cal could respond, he continued, "Thanks for helping her." Cal shrugged, though what he really wanted to do was squirm. There was something about Jack's gratitude that unnerved him. It was so genuine; he didn't care who had helped Rose, just that someone had. "I should've been holding on to her," Jack said, more to himself than to Cal.
"She isn't a child, you know."
"I know, but she—"
"Jack?" Rose appeared in the doorway. Her hair was pulled back. She wore a soft, simple green dress and no shoes. A silver ring that looked suspiciously like the curled up end of a spoon shone on her left hand.
"Right here, Rose Petal," Jack said, turning toward her and holding out his hand.
Smiling, she took it. "I thought I heard you talking to someone, but it didn't sound like any of the children."
What does she mean? Cal thought. Can't she see me standing here?
"I was," Jack said. "I didn't want to go through it all out in the storm, but you know I didn't pull you out of the water—"
"You didn't?"
Now Cal was really confused. She looked right at me! But she had also called him Jack, something which he had chalked up to a hysterical reaction. It wasn't like he and Jack could be mistaken for one another under ordinary circumstances.
"I didn't," Jack said. "Um...Eva's father did."
It took Rose a moment to fully process the meaning of his words. Her eyes widened. "Is he still here?" she gasped.
"Yeah, actually," Jack said. "He came back with us." Without thinking, he pulled her closer.
"I'm standing right here," Cal said. "She can see me just fine."
Rose's look of surprise became a hard glare. "Actually," she said coldly, "I can't see you. Or anything else."
"Oh." Now it all made sense. Of course she couldn't see. All the signs were there; he just hadn't put them together. "I'm sorry," he said quietly.
Rose's face softened. "It's all right. I…I forget people have to be told…why are you here?"
"I—well, I'm here about Eva." Seeing Jack's eyes narrow, he quickly added, "To support her. Her mother and I came out here to tell her that. We, or rather I should say I, wasn't very receptive to the news about her marrying your son."
"Why doesn't that surprise me?" Jack asked drily.
"You could make this easy," Cal said.
"We could," Rose said.
"We could do a lot of things," Jack added.
"We already do a lot of things," Rose said. "I'd like to do just a few things."
"And those are?"
"Tea first."
Cal couldn't believe what was happening. He sat across the table from Jack and Rose, a steaming cup of tea in front of him and a piece of toast next to it. "You can eat it," Rose said. "I'm all out of strychnine."
"We are?" Jack said, feigning shock. "We just had a whole bottle."
"Lily used it all up on those orange grove owners."
"She would."
"What are you talking about?" Cal asked.
Jack laughed. "Not really anything," he said.
"And everything," Rose added.
Cal shook his head. "I think you've both gone insane. Drinking too much bathtub gin, are you?"
"Well, now we know what you've been doing," Rose said.
"Is it that obvious?"
And suddenly, the layer of tension between the three of them thinned until it was almost gone. There was something about Cal that was almost human, or at least, that was the best word Jack could come up with for it. He's different. He's still an asshole, but…
"I noticed it, too," Rose said, as if she could hear his thought. "Isn't it strange?"
"Yeah, it is," Jack said. "We should ask him about it."
"I think he'll tell us what he wants us to know."
Cal stared at them. "You two don't talk to other people very often, do you?" Not waiting for an answer, he added, "Of course you don't. Don't even say it. Why would you?"
"We've spoken to Eva," Rose said.
"You have?" Cal asked, leaning forward.
Rose nodded. "She's lovely. You really should try talking to her more. I think you would like what you found. Or you should, if you don't already."
"I—" Cal began. He paused as the sound of a door slamming filled the kitchen.
"Lily!" Dylan yelled. "Don't take your rage at the bourgeoisie out on the door!"
Cal froze as Eva's voice joined the medley. "Well, it was infuriating."
He had not anticipated this when he went out for a walk. In fact, neither he nor Deidre had quite worked out when or how they would go about seeing Eva. And it looked like they never would, because the footsteps coming toward the kitchen were getting louder.