CHANCE ENCOUNTER
Chapter Three
The clatter of the
trolleys and the din of the automobile traffic were not enough to overcome the
sound of Jack’s pounding heart. He paced back and forth under the Marshall
Field’s clock, looking up at the time and then fumbling in his pocket for his
own watch. 4:03. Maybe his watch was wrong, or the clock was fast. Maybe Rose
had a slow timepiece in her room. Maybe she was not even coming. His heart sank
as he considered that possibility.
But he was sure
that he had seen that special light in her eyes when they met today. A light
that had been quickly extinguished on the approach of her fiancé. God, what was
she always doing with these older men. First there was Cal, the most
insensitive, deceitful character he had ever met. And now this Maxwell Calvert
person with the personality of an eighty year old uncle. In a way, he did not
blame Rose. She thought he was dead and she probably wanted some security, a
family. Just why couldn’t she find someone more her age? Jack felt like he was
a character in some bad play, where he was always coming in at the same scene,
over and over again. Finding the woman he loved engaged to someone else.
Now not only was he
worried that she might not come, he had no idea what to say to her, if she did
show up. Jack knew what he wanted and that was to take her away with him
forever. What he didn’t know however, was what she expected to hear from him,
or even if she wanted him to touch her. When the moment came, he would have to
act on his own raw instincts.
With another glance
upward at the clock, Jack craned his head over the top of the crowd to see if
he could see Rose coming. She would be hard to miss with her cascade of red
curls. There was no one that even remotely resembled Rose coming down State
Street. He wondered where she would be staying. Most of the better hotels were
south of Washington, so he assumed that would be the direction she would be
coming from.
He turned around in
haste as someone brushed roughly against his shoulder. The person moved on with
a mumbled, “excuse me.” Jack nodded as he straightened his jacket and tried to
loosen his collar a bit, by running his finger around his neck. He looked up
and saw her. Rose was rushing towards the corner. She looked uneasy and kept
glancing behind her as if she was being followed. In her confused and hurried
state it was clear to him that she did not see him.
Jack raised his
hand and shouted exuberantly to her. “Rose, Rose, over here!” He could see her
turn her head slightly and at last she focused in on him. She moved quickly in
his direction, looking more sure of herself now.
Rose breathed a
sigh of relief as she saw Jack. She knew that she was late and while she
thought that Jack might realize this and wait for her, it reassured her
instantly to see his familiar, casual stance, waiting for her on the busy
corner. How ironic, after all the events of this day- At the clock- And it had
to be more than a coincidence. Jack naming their meeting place as the exact
landmark Maxwell had pointed out to her this morning.
“Rose?” he called
again. Her head shot up, and suddenly her only goal was to reach him, run to
his side.
This time a wave and
a smile rewarded him as she zigzagged her way through the throng of late
afternoon shoppers.
As suddenly as she
had appeared, she was now only a few feet from him. Jack lifted his arms
slightly as he watched the expression on her face. Her eyes were once again
filled with the hope he had seen earlier. A furrow appeared in her forehead and
her lips parted slightly as if to speak. She was close enough to drink in the
scent of her perfume and feel the heat of her body. His own body acted for him.
His arms automatically reached out to her, circling around her shoulders, her
waist, and pulled her tightly against his body, crushing her against his chest.
He leaned his head against hers and whispered longingly into her ear. “Rose.
Rose. I need you to be with me."
He could feel her
neck arch backward in emotion and her eyes fluttered open. Like magnets they
were drawn to each other’s gaze. They stood that way for what seemed like
hours, when Jack suddenly realized the ‘tsk, tsk” sounds around them. A few
people smiled and then looked quickly away. No- this is not where they should
be having this most private reunion.
He looked around,
quickly searching for a more private place. Halfway down the lane, he spotted
the entrance way of an abandoned store. They could duck in there, until they
decided what to do, he decided. Jack grabbed her hand and pulled her after him.
“Come on, Rose. This way. Come with me."
Rose felt her
cheeks heating, the familiar rush of excitement as Jack led her away. The
memories of him, of all they had experienced together, now seemed mere moments
in the past. Not the seven years that had gone by.
She felt his hand
on hers, running up her arm delicately as he gently pushed her against the
hidden doorway. Her hair crushed against the glass, and Rose's eyes traveled
the length of his face. She could sense his nervousness, feel his warm, beating
heart almost against her own, as he stepped closer and closer.
"You haven't
said a word Rose. I need you to- I need you to say something." His words were
urgent but loving. With his breath sending sparks of electricity through her,
she once again appeared dumbfounded, lost is her own amazement. But she saw the
emotion in his glorious blue eyes- the desire that she had to respond to.
One glance towards
the dimming light of the busy street, she took a deep breath, and clinching his
strong hand, Rose spoke. "Jack, I'm sorry...I'm sorry. I was just so
surprised, so..." A tear formed in her eye, and Jack placed his forehand
against hers, reaching to wipe it away.
The touch of his
skin on hers, Rose couldn't help but smile. "Rose, I was so scared that
you weren't going to come." Jack smiled wistfully, all the while
tightening his grip on her.
"Jack how
could even think I wouldn't come. I had to make an excuse, and by the time I
finally did, it was already nearly four...Jack...how?" Her eyes searched
his bravely, her breathing increasing, as her heart rose and fell erratically.
"I don't know.
I couldn't find you, I lost you...Rose, God, I love you..." His mouth
seemed to shape each word effortlessly, as his gaze focused on her own lips.
Before she knew it, his face was next to hers, and her chin grazed the incline
of his throat. She allowed the deep emotion to sweep over her entire body, as
did he.
His soft words
echoed through her ears- pounding on every nerve in her being. The soft scent
she remembered- light sandalwood, filled her nose- and she became increasingly
aware of Jack's lips so close to her own. As if on cue, she felt his mouth
searching blindly for hers, and in a moment of instinct, she met the kiss.
Brushing her lips against his, she tasted him for the first time in...forever.
Just as she felt the urge to allow Jack to deepen the kiss, images of reality
entered her mind. Maxwell, the museum, the awkward situation she was once again
faced with.
"Rose."
Jack whispered against her lips as he felt her resist. In an instant, his heart
began to spin and sudden doubt entered his mind. This wasn't supposed to
happen...not like this.
"Jack,
Jack." She began to cry softly against his shoulder, melting, it seemed,
into his familiar shape, his warmth. He kissed her forehead, closing his eyes
and trying to comfort her, all the while wondering just what was to happen.
Maybe he had been too forward, too fast? He remembered the confusion in her
face, and suddenly realized that maybe- just maybe- she was scared. But surely
not of him...
"Rose you have
to tell me. You have to let me know what you're thinking."
Her mouth opened
against his chest, and gently she raised her face towards his, a smile spread
across her lips, outlined by her tears.
"That I just
want to stay here forever, Jack. Right here, in this moment. But we can't...I'm
just wondering...wondering so much."
"But you're
not...Rose you're not scared of me are you? It's not me is it?" The worry
crossed Jack's tender eyes. Rose wanted to shower him with kisses, show him the
overpowering passion she felt rising in her heart. But something was keeping
her from that.
All she could find
the strength for was to shake her head, gazing into his eyes. "No Jack.
It's not you, it's me."
Jack sighed and
attempted a smile, trying to smolder all the desire and longing he wanted to
express. Taking both of her hands in his, he spoke softly and encouragingly.
"What do you
say we take a walk, Rose? Maybe get some ice cream even...and talk. Figure
everything out." A glimmer of mischief shone in his eyes. "I missed
you, Rose."
Rose recognized the
light and reassurance she had always associated with her beloved Jack- shining
through so vibrantly. He had hope, and even after her obvious hesitancy- he was
not faltering in the least.
"Okay."
She whispered, tilting her head towards his once more, before following his
lead back unto the street. Weakly, she folded her arm through his, letting him
support her. "I missed you too Jack."
“What happened
after you started working at the book store?” Jack held Rose’s hand as they sat
across from each other. He had taken her to the tiny ice cream parlor inside of
Marshall Field’s department store. For the last hour they had talked about what
occurred that terrible night in 1912 and about his life in New York, slowly
working his way upward in the world of art. Now it was Rose’s turn.
She had gone to
California and worked at some little jobs. It seemed that she had done
everything from selling fancy hats to waiting on tables in a tearoom. A
director from a small film studio had found her there and offered her some
small rolls in some of his pictures. The pay was next to nothing, but she was
fulfilling her dream.
“I needed more
money and since we were only working on this one movie in the mornings, when
the outdoor light was right, I had plenty of time for another job.” Rose could
feel Jack’s warm hand against her clammy skin. She felt like she was doing
something forbidden. After all, she had lied to Maxwell and his sister, Aggie.
She had told them she wanted to do some window shopping for a wedding dress and
needed to be alone to think. Instead she was here with Jack, telling him about
her life in the past seven years.
Jack rubbed his
thumb over the top of her hand and tried to make contact with Rose’s eyes. All
the while she had been talking, she had been racing along with her words,
almost as if she wanted to get away from here. She seemed to find it difficult
to look at him.
“Rose, what’s the
matter? You’re talking so fast, that you are almost babbling. I can feel how
nervous you are.” To emphasize that point, he lifted her hand up off the table.
She lifted her head
shyly and gave just the hint of a smile. “I’m sorry, Jack."
But an apology was
not what he wanted. Alright, then. Try another tactic. “So bookstore, Rose. Is
that where you met,…..him?” He had wanted to call him the old coot, but he had
to have some respect for Rose’s choice, even if it was the wrong one.
She began slowly to
finish her story.
"Yes, in that
bookstore in Santa Monica. That is where I met Maxwell. He was there on
vacation and his friend was the owner. He was cultured and polite and he asked
me out.” Unconsciously as she spoke she had reached for Jack’s other hand and
wove her fingers in and out of his. “I felt safe with him, respectable. And
after awhile, I became very fond of him. He, he told me he loved me and he
proposed. Rose lowered her head and bit her lips. “When he brought me back to
Cedar Rapids, he pressured me into a wedding date and his sister has taken over
everything I do. We’re supposed to get married in a month."
Jack’s heart
lurched when he saw her shoulders begin shaking and the tears begin to roll
down her cheeks. He grabbed her hands tightly in his. She put her head down and
turned away from him. He knew that this was not what she wanted, it was that
this time, she had no where to run. No one to get off the boat with. Until
today. It was risky, but he could not resist the words. “Do you love him?” He
watched carefully for her response. There was none, only her silence and the
blinking of her teary eyes. “Rose, look at me,” he urged softly. “Please."
Slowly she faced
him. Her cheeks were tear stained and the eyes were red. Even her usually lush
lips were slightly swollen. There was the expression of sadness on her face.
Sadness and hopelessness.
“Rose, I love you,”
he said with all the intensity he could muster. “I can’t let you do this. Talk
to me, Rose. Please.” Jack focused his eyes on her, hoping that the expression
on his face would convince her more than even his words.
She looked around
the room, at first avoiding his gaze. Then she was caught in those magnetic
pools of blue. Rose looked at him for a long time and she realized at last,
that Jack was here for her. Slowly, her apprehension fled and she was able to
take a deep breath. Her shoulders sagged and she tilted her head back slightly.
Why had she been so slow to realize that she could hide nothing from Jack? This
was Jack; who knew every inch of her body and soul. Jack, to whom she had given
the greatest gift of all; herself.
“Jack, I
don’t………..” She stumbled on her words. “No, I..” Her mouth was so dry that she
could hardly talk.
He watched as she
swallowed, trying to search for the right words. “Yes, Rose,” he prompted.
“Jack, I want……..I
need to see you, again.” There, it was out.
He nodded his head.
His heart was hammering wildly. There was a chance for him. He knew it now.
Rose just needed time.
“Jack, what time is
it?” she asked.
He pulled a gold
watch from his pocket. “It’s almost five. They’ll be closing up here. Come on,
let’s go."
“Oh, Jack, I have
to go. He, they’ll know the stores are closed. I have to go."
He could see the
panic rising in her. It was apparent that she was afraid of Mr. Calvert. Maybe
even more afraid of the sister.
“Alright, relax,”
he said. They stood up and walked out of the ice cream parlor. Jack led the way
to the elevators, trying to make some plan in his head for where to meet Rose
tomorrow. She smiled nervously at him at the waited for the car to stop at
their floor. “You’ll get back in time,” he assured her, tucking a red curl
behind her ear.
They walked through
the throng of shoppers on the first floor of the huge store. The throng of the
last afternoon shoppers made it difficult to get to the State Street door. A
large shopping bag, carried by another woman, caught on Rose’s purse, pulling
it off her arm and scattering the contents on the floor. “Oh sorry,” said the
harried woman, pushing her way past them.
“Oh, Jack, now I’ll
really be late,” she gasped. She bent down trying to gather her belongings.
Jack reached down
to help her. “Are these yours too?” he asked, picking up several small white
cards.
Without thinking
she nodded, forgetting about the name on her calling cards. Aggie had insisted
that she have them printed, so she could pass them out when they made their
afternoon calls on the ladies of Cedar Rapids. Rose had resisted, but it was
such a small matter, that she let Aggie have her way.
Jack turned the
cards over, ready to hand them to Rose. He looked at them, knowing at once what
they were. Then he looked again at the name engraved on the front. Next to a
sketch of a rose was printed: Miss Rose Dawson. He was speechless. She had gone
by his name all these years. Rose had felt that great a connection with him,
that she had just taken his name.
“I think I have
everything,” said Rose. She grabbed onto one of the wooden counters and pulled
herself up. “Jack? What’s wrong?” He too had straightened up from the floor.
Then she saw what he held in his hand, and realized what the look of amazement
in his eyes was all about. “Jack, I’m sorry. I just needed to get away from who
I was when we got to New York. I felt you were so much a part of me, that I
didn’t think you would mind.” She chewed on her bottom lip and a furrow
appeared in her forehead. “Of course, I didn’t know you were alive."
He grabbed her
elbow, without a word and led her out of the store. When they were finally on
the sidewalk, where the crowd had thinned out, he took her by the shoulders so
she faced him. “Rose, I am honored.” He gently stroked the column of her neck
and reached in to kiss her. Jack felt the sharp intake of her breath as their
lips melted against each other. The light pressure of her hand against his
chest let him know that she wanted him to stop. His eyes were drawn to hers and
he saw her discomfort. Maybe it was too much, too soon. “Rose, I wanted you to
be……” Now it was Jack who was struggling with words. Rose Dawson was who he
wanted her to be. Time, take your time, he warned himself. “Rose, about
tomorrow. There is a little cafe on Adams. It’s called The Berghoff. Can you
get away around noon? Make some excuse?"
“Yes, I think so,”
she said, searching Jack’s eyes for the strength to do this. “I already have
said that I wanted to get my hair cut here. I can tell them that. Jack I have
to go."
He took her hands
in his looking at her beautiful face. How he would like to take her back to his
hotel now. Her eyes looked like they were misting over. She looked sad and
vulnerable. He wanted her so much and was encouraged by the fact that she had
suggested another meeting.
Unexpectedly she
stood on her tiptoes and kissed him gently on the forehead. “I’ll be there
tomorrow, Jack. I promise.” And then she was gone.
Jack stood at the
window of his hotel room and watched as darkness settled over the city. The
lake was just visible now to the east. Here and there the headlights of an
automobile washed across the street. The muffled sounds of the buses and the
laughter of passing pedestrians wafted up to his floor.
He’d awakened this
morning only wanting to visit the art museum and then perhaps walk along the
lake. In a few seconds that had all changed. He never expected to be standing
here tonight having spent stolen moments with his beloved Rose. Rose who until
today had been only a memory. Everything about her was just as he remembered.
She still had that glorious red hair, her wonderful curvaceous figure and that
beautiful smile. And somewhere in that head of hers, he was sure that her fiery
spirit still lived. Otherwise, he felt sure, she would never have risked the
anger of her fiancé and his sister.
He’d seen the look
in her eyes when they’d first seen each other today. She still had feelings for
him and the way she had stumbled over her words, he was pretty sure that those
feelings could be love.
Jack turned and
walked to the dresser. He opened his leather art folder and pulled out a few
clean sheets of paper and a charcoal pencil. The light on the bedside table beckoned
him. He pushed the pillows against the headboard and settled himself into a
comfortable position. Jack propped his work against his drawn up knees and
began to sketch.
Since that night on
Titanic, he’d never again tried to draw Rose. Oh, it had happened in his mind,
but he had been afraid to see her on paper. He’d been scared of how he would
feel holding the tangible evidence of her existence in his hands. Tonight
however, it was different. Now he wanted to draw her in a million different
ways. He wondered if the night was long enough for him to do it all. Rose in
the gallery, Rose looking up at him. Even a drawing of their hands joined
together. Sleep would be elusive tonight anyway. And besides, he had a great
deal of thinking to do. Thinking about how to keep her with him forever.