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.

Chapter Four
Stories