TOMORROW'S APRIL
Chapter Eleven

On Solid Ground

"Dawson, Dawson! Dawson! Dawson?" The man kept one foot on his car, the other he waved back and forth, calling out the same name over and over. He adjusted his driving hat on his head, sighing. The heavy wool weighted down even more with the insignia of his company, seemed all too out of place. Just as this unusually warm April weather did.

"Crowds!!! He'll never hear me." He closed the heavy door to the automobile and stepped into the mass of family and friends, drivers and valets. He began walking toward the plank, where the first class passengers were just starting to appear. He had no idea who he was looking for- no face to search for at all. Just a man named Dawson. It was always like this, and sometimes this job just got a little too frustrating.

Just then he spotted a man who seemed to be looking for something. Mr. Corrigan had learned over the years- that this was tell-tale sign. He pushed his way through, waving his arms once more. "Dawson, Dawson!"

He saw the blond haired man nod, waving back, smiling. He was young and handsome, an attractive red haired woman on his arm. She clung to him, watching with excitement in her eyes as they made their way unto the docks. The warm wind blew their hair behind them, creating an almost ethereal image. Mr. Corrigan couldn't help but stare, and shrugged his shoulders, not knowing why he hadn't been told he was picking up a couple, and not just one man.

"There he is." Jack pointed to the driver waiting for them.

"Who?" Rose looked up at Jack, a puzzled expression on her face.

"The driver they sent. I thought it'd be easier than trying to get a cab in this mess." Jack bent down and kissed her forehead, throwing one of his arms in the air, and felt it pass through his palm.

"Hmm...wonderful," Rose scrunched her nose in thought, "it's too warm to walk. It's been so long, since I've actually been in the city. A little drive through will be nice." She looked up at him and raised her eyebrows playfully. "But you're sure there's no hidden safe I don't know about?"

"I'm full of surprises. Thought you knew that." He eyed her and she sighed, laughing.

"I've always known that." She exhaled a breath, taking in the scenic docking. The blue sky was dotted with sparse clouds- the wind warm for the late spring. Birds flew overhead, calling out with high-pitched shrieks, muffled by the murmurings and shouting of the enormous crowd. The patches of color along the planks, and the shiny leathers of suitcases seemed to sparkle in streams of light. Jack and Rose approached the agitated little man, standing straight at the end of the line.

"Dawson?"

Jack took his free hand and offered it to the driver. "Dawson, yes- Jack Dawson. You're here to drive us home, right?"

"Yes, sir." Mr. Corrigan tipped his hat to them. "I'm Mr. Corrigan."

"This is Rose Dawson. She'll be riding with me." Jack tightened his grip on Rose's waist. They stepped forward, thanking Mr. Corrigan as he held the door open for them.

"I've got your packages, Mr. Dawson- already in the trunk."

"There were two suitcases, right?" Jack leaned forward, talking to the man.

"Yes, sir. And several crates. All marked with your passenger number, yes."

"Thank you." Jack smiled and leaned back, glancing towards Rose. She was nestled next to him, gazing out the window towards the still busy disembarking. She seemed so thoughtful-

"Are you okay Rose?" Jack whispered, leaning down to place his cheek next to hers. She turned slightly, pressing her forehead to his.

"I'm fine. I was just looking, thinking. I'm so happy, but at the same time...I feel like I'm...I'm eight years late for this."

"Hmm..., but you did tell me once Rose- that you'd be getting off a ship with me. And you just did." He stared into her eyes. Rose reached for his hand, grasping it tightly in her own and smiled wistfully.

"I did, didn't I?"

Jack smiled, "Yep- you sure did. And now we have to move on, and make other plans. A wedding to think about." Rose nodded, running her hand over Jack's rough palm, watching as the ship became smaller and smaller through the car window. And Rose knew that the life she and Jack deserved eight years before, could finally become a reality. No more ships for awhile- just the two of them.

Mr. Corrigan cleared his throat in the front seat. "Will you both need to be brought to the same address then?"

Jack nodded casually, pulling Rose protectively towards him. "Yes. The one you have."

"So this is your wife then?" Mr. Corrigan asked absentmindedly, concentrating on the busy street before them.

"Yes," Jack whispered softly, looking at Rose rather than the driver who had asked the question. He kissed the top of her head, breathing in the scent of her hair. "Yes," he said again. Rose closed her eyes and smiled.

When she reopened them, the scene outside the window had changed, and the cluster of buildings came into view- the brownstones and concrete warehouses cramped so close together. She watched as these turned into hotels, department stores- as the car reached the heart of the city. The part of New York that she had always known, when she was a child. The posh boutiques and elegant theaters- she could remember being led from place to place, as if it were yesterday. But it had been so long- so long since she'd even seen her mother. Eight years, and even longer since her beloved father had passed away.

"Where's the gallery you work at, Jack?" Rose turned to face him, finding that he had been gazing out of the same window she had. He smiled and leaned in next to her.

"Did you see that little coffee shop at the corner of the last street we passed?"

Rose nodded.

"That's where I always go before work- the gallery is a few doors down. The Water lily. Not too big, but it's nice, and the owner, Mr. Carlson- he's wonderful. He's in his late fifties- never been married, but very generous and giving. I'll take you down there tomorrow. Would you like that?"

"Mmm," Rose nodded affirmatively and snuggled in closer to Jack, shielding her eyes from the sun. "I was just thinking about all of the memories, from when I was a child. We traveled here a lot, and I would come with my father on his business trips in the summer."

"Are you going to be alright with living here Rose?" Jack looked concerned, but Rose squeezed his hand reassuringly.

"Jack, I'll be fine. I let go of that a long time ago. Eight years ago to be exact." She smiled and sat up, turning to face him directly. She eyed him mischievously. "And speaking of that," she looked to each side of her and then back at Jack's amused face, "is this a Renault we're traveling in?"

Jack shook his head from side to side, laughing as he pulled her to him, pressing her head to his chest. Rose giggled against him. "Rose, you never stop do you?" He teased, smiling with recognition as he spotted his apartment building several blocks ahead.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

"And that'll do it, sir. Anything else I can help you with?"

"No, but thank you, Mr. Corrigan," Jack offered his hand to the other man, "it was nice meeting you."

"Nice to meet you, Mr. and Mrs. Dawson. A pleasure." He bowed politely and went back to his car, sinking into the seat and driving away, under the shade of the trees lining Jack's quiet street. The buildings here were mostly residential, rather new, and accompanied by small flower gardens. Rose breathed deeply, taking in the surprisingly fresh air.

"This must be near the park," she thought to herself.

"Come on, Mrs. Dawson- I'm on the first floor." Jack picked up the two suitcases, leaving the lighter crates for Rose, and led her through the door, holding it open. Rose walked in, stepping into a nicely lit marble hallway. The heavy mahogany door shut behind her, and she watched Jack as he slid his key into the door nearest the entrance. Farther down the hallway, was the elevator and a set of iron stairs.

"Here we go." Jack entered his apartment, motioning for Rose to join him. She smiled and walked slowly through the doorway, as he flipped the light switch to reveal his spacious living room. She breathed in the crisp smell of the furniture, mingled with the scent of the aftershave Jack wore. He watched as she explored the room, grazing the tips of the armchairs and sofa with her fingers, moving to examine the ornate bookshelf in the corner, cluttered with his collection.

She glanced back at him, smiling. "This is wonderful, Jack."

"It's kind of messy, but it's home," he made his way over to her, slipping his arm around her waist from behind, "maybe you can add some elegance to it." He whispered this softly, kissing her cheek. "The kitchen's right through there," he pointed to a doorway near the couch, "and everything else is through here," he led her through a small hall, and pointed to a closed door, "my studio."

"This I want to see," Rose's eyes lit up as she opened the door, a quiet Jack following closely behind her. The bright white walls were almost completely hidden by paintings and sketches. Half done drawings lay scattered on a table in a corner, and a paint splattered easel rested in another. A large shelf hosted the many cans of paints and pastels, and the jars of brushes and charcoals.

"Jack, this is amazing." Rose looked in awe at the nearest wall, searching for the familiar JD in the corner of each masterpiece. The delicate portraits of everything from flowers, to a striped cat, who seemed to reappear in several.

"Oh, that's Tabby. She's sort of the building's pet, I guess. One of them anyway. She comes by every once in a while." Rose nodded, stealing a loving glance at Jack.

As she approached the next wall, she could hear Jack's breath slow behind her, and she looked upwards, staring immediately into so many mirror images of herself. Just like the ones she had found in his portfolio a few days earlier. She held her own breath as she reached up gingerly to touch them, recognizing each memory. And Jack had done a beautiful job of perfectly recreating every moment aboard Titanic. So much so, it seemed to resemble the cascade of images Rose had always reverted back to in her mind, through the past years. The two of them in all the places her heart recalled so well.

Just as the tears began to spring into her eyes, she felt the warmth of Jack's strong arms around her, and his breath at her ear. "You Rose. I could never get you out of my mind...Can you tell?" He smiled gently, and Rose laughed softly.

"All I had were memories inside me Jack, but you were able to do these, create these to look at. They're beautiful." She let Jack wipe away her tears, and he rested his chin on her shoulder, taking another look at the wall before leading her to one more corner of the room. Next to his easel lay a painting. Like so many others in this room, it was of the two of them, aboard the ship. But this one was special, Rose could tell. It was on a large canvas, colorful and vibrant. She smiled and knelt before it, feeling Jack's hands on her arms as she touched the painting. They were on the bow- and the sunset behind them, seemed as vivid as always. The graceful strokes of paint portrayed them both- so full of joy and hope, as they had been that fateful night. Her wind-blown cheeks, his coat- it was all the same. Jack had remembered everything- every small detail.

"Someone actually wanted to buy that one Rose. I had someone over a few months ago- an art dealer. He wanted it, but I refused. I could never give that one up."

Rose stood and rejoined him. "Thank you, Jack," she whispered, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. He responded by pulling her close, into a tight embrace. Jack sighed against her, feeling all the emotion they shared, in the way she held him. He pulled back for only a second. Just long enough for him to press his lips firmly to hers. To let her know that she had finally arrived home. That from this moment on, he would support her, care for her, be with her.

Chapter Twelve
Stories