APRIL IN ROME
Chapter Fifteen

It was the keen fatherly instincts of Don Hockley that reacted first to Emma Dawson’s urgent command. Somehow it broke through the hazy fog of shock that had immediately overtaken him upon witnessing the horror of Rose crumpling to the floor. For Don realized he had to find help—and fast! Determinedly pushing aside the devastating horrific emotions that threatened to overpower and render him a mindless zombie, he bolted out of the door as if the demons of hell were at his heels. The door forcefully crashed back against the wall nearly causing the hinges to snap. And then the ominous silence…

For Jack Dawson couldn’t move…he couldn’t think…he couldn’t function. The heart piercing echo of a shrill scream and the subsequent sound of Rose’s head cracking against hard granite kept playing over and over and over…ringing in his ears to the point of causing deafness to the outside world. It was as if he had been thrown into the deep pits of hell to continuously relive the torture of what he had done! The room tilted dizzily and he was burning, scorching, free falling…and then a sudden rush of coldness seized his throat and squeezed—choking out his light and only purpose for living. Jack Dawson’s spinning mind was close to dangerously shutting down—as if the sole source of its energy had been snuffed out. He couldn’t make his body respond to what he knew he must do to help Rose…and my God, his child? Somehow, he couldn’t accept the miracle of a baby just yet. Now while the coppery scent of blood invaded his injured senses as it oozed upon the stark white floor—growing ominously larger with each passing moment. How could anyone bleed so profusely and still live? Were Rose and his baby dying before his eyes? Dear God in heaven, what have I done?

Closing dark eyes that resembled deep empty sockets, Jack despairingly reflected on the possibility of losing his heart and soul forever this time. His muscles had virtually locked and were incapable of holding him erect any longer therefore prompting him to helplessly slide down the bathroom wall. Slowly, ever so slowly out of the darkest recesses of blackness and numbness, he faintly heard his name called.

"Jack…Jack…give me your jacket! Son, take off your jacket…we need to keep her warm! Jack! Snap out of it! Don’t you dare pass out on us, Jack Dawson! We need you! Hurry…move your ass, NOW!"

Something about the terrifying desperation of the words forced him to react and obey. Thankfully, they succeeded in thrusting him back to a semi-awareness of what was happening around him and the dangerous predicament he was sinking into. They were all facing a potential tragedy and he had to be a man and face up to it--regardless of the perilous circumstances leading up to this life-threatening disaster and its final outcome. But he couldn’t dwell on that right now. That would come later…much later. What was of the utmost importance was that Rose needed him…and his child. He had to help them. Panic had struck only once before in his life…when he had lost Rose in Rome. But this was so much more than that. Stark terror was staring him right in the face but he couldn’t allow it to take over his reasoning and render him useless and a burden to those that depended on him.

Jack shakily shucked his jacket and carefully wrapped it around Rose’s still, cold body. Bending over, he placed trembling lips against her temple and held them there while tightly closing turbulent ocean blue pools of pain. It was so faint that Jack at first mistook it for the throbbing ache of his own heartbeat. Then, he suddenly realized that the ever so slight pulse was responding to his touch—answering his most fervent prayers. Yes, it was there…erratic…weak…but still…it hadn’t stopped beating…not yet!

"Thank God, she’s alive…I feel her Mother…I feel a pulse!" Tears of tempered relief and fear began silently rushing down his ashen cheeks.

"They’re on their way!" Don unsteadily ground out as he busted back into the room laboring for breath.

"How is she, Emma?"

"She’s cold, Don…so cold!" Emma Dawson’s quivering voice was fighting back the tears that were threatening—burning the back of her throat. But she refused to let them fall for she had to be strong for everyone. And it was solely up to her—her responsibility to make sure that all would be all right. After all, she accepted part of the blame for this because she should have told Jack right away that his allegations about Rose and Don were false. Furthermore, that Jack had fathered not only one but two children by this wonderful girl and it was time to make amends for the terrible accusations he had made. Oh, she knew what was going on in her son’s suspicious mind. She had the perfect opportunity in LA after she returned from Rosedale. Dammit, why hadn’t she told him then…now it might be too late to mend fences…if there were any left to rebuild!

Jack warily glanced up at Don Hockley for the first time—seeing him now as Rose’s father. My God, it’s been there the whole time. The physical resemblance was probably less obvious, but the stark evidence of a father’s sorrow, concern and deep binding love were etched there for anybody with half a brain to see and understand. Not one ounce of physical love but true emotional love poured from the man. The kind of love that binds and can never be broken. He was such an idiot—didn’t he, Jack Dawson, know the damn difference? What a blind utter fool he had been. Everything made sense now even in his fevered state of grief, the truth glittered as pure as gold. He was without a doubt the lowest form of life of that had ever been created…could either Rose or Don ever forgive such stupidity and vile ignorance? It was highly unlikely. And did he even have the right to beg for it, if he ever had the chance again?

Watery green eyes met teary pools of blue in mutual remorse, fear and guilt. For some unknown reason, Don surprisingly didn’t react with the fierce hatred and contempt he had felt before. A kind of pity gripped his insides for he somehow knew what Jack must have been feeling. The boy was so…well, he wouldn’t ponder that now. This was not the time for second-guessing and psychoanalysis. This was the time for his daughter’s welfare—getting the best medical help that money could buy and as quickly as humanly possible.

Jack saw the unscrupulous look pass across Don’s features—not of anger or hostility but shared guilt and remorse, perhaps? Swallowing the thickness in his throat that was threatening to close off his air passageway, Jack managed to choke out, "She’s alive, Mr. Hockley. I found a pulse!"

Slightly nodding his head, Don shakily responded with an obvious catch in his throat, "Thank God for that…but where’s that damn ambulance? It should be here by now!"

As if on command, the door flew open and several emergency medical technicians rushed in firing off questions.

"Stand back everyone! What happened here?"

The unexpected question sent Don and Jack back into their previous shells of griping self-contempt and guilt—refusing to relinquish its stubborn hold on their shocked, grieving bodies.

Alas, it was the ever alert and strong-minded Emma that provided the needed answer.

"She hit her head on that divider."

As the paramedics quickly checked Rose’s vital signs, one of them asked, "Does she have a medical condition? Allergic to any medications?"

Somehow Don found his tongue to ignorantly reply. "No, none!"

Emma stared in disbelief at the man’s absolute ignorance and in exasperation shook her head. Men! They could be so dense sometimes—especially in emergencies. Why are they always considered the stronger of the two sexes was beyond her!

In a firm, hard voice she corrected while glancing in Jack’s direction.

"Yes, she does, sir! She’s pregnant…and with twins!"

A sharp gasp came from the direction of her son. Jack’s eyes widened in disbelief and he blanched a whiter shade of pale. He felt as if he had been gut punched again but this time mere words were slicing through his heart like a dull knife. Not only might he lose Rose and a baby…but now there were three lives lying on a cold, hard floor as a result of his own stupidity…my God, take me…I’ll do anything…but please, oh please…not them!

Continuing his hurried examination, the paramedic knowingly responded, "Good thing you told us this, Ma'am—makes a hell of a lot of difference in the treatment we’re allowed to render."

"I’m aware of that. Is she going to be all right?" Emma anxiously asked.

"We’ve got to get her stabilized first in order to make the transfer by ambulance to the nearest hospital. I’m not qualified to make that prognosis…only a doctor can do that! Looks like we’re about ready to go though! Sorry folks, but only one can ride with her!"

"I’m riding with her! She needs a mother right now and I’m the closest she has. I’ll take care of things when we get there!"

"But I’m her father!" Don vehemently objected.

"So? I’m those babies’ only grandmother! So, no buts, Don, and that’s final! She needs somebody with their wits about them and I’m it! You two can get to the hospital the best way you can—provided you don’t kill each other first!"

And what seemed an eternity but in reality was mere seconds—Rose and Emma were loaded and on their way--leaving behind two despondent men in various stages of stupor.

When Don finally regained a semblance of composure, his initial response was to light out again in pursuit of the fleeing ambulance. But that same exasperating emotion hit him again and he knew he couldn’t leave the boy behind. Because regardless of what he wanted to do, Jack was his grandchildren’s father—whether he liked it or not! Besides, the boy looked near to collapsing and that inbred characteristic called compassion wouldn’t morally allow him to put it asunder even though his gut instinct tempted him to finish Dawson off right then and there. But there was no time for that now—Rose needed him. Silently muttering curses, Don grabbed Jack by the back of his shirt and authoritatively bit out, "Come on, Dawson! You can ride with me!"

Outside in the parking lot, more chaos reined the dark fateful night. Every vehicle in the garage and lot were blocked in causing the parking attendant to helplessly shrug his shoulders while apologizing, "Sorry, Mr. Hockley…Mr. Dawson…things are a complete mess tonight. We can’t get to your cars just now."

Swearing uncontrollably, Don lost his volatile temper, "Dammit to hell…you bunch of incompetent sons of bitches! Shit, how the hell are we going to get to the hospital?"

Both men looked as if the wind had been knocked out of their sails. Don stomped his feet in fury while Jack turned in disgust yet immediately came face to face with…

"Mr. Hockley, can you drive a motorcycle?" Jack unexpectedly spoke up.

Crinkling a wondering brow. "Of course, why?"

"I figured you did…because there’s one right over there!" Jack hopefully suggested.

Slyly grinning, Don unconsciously slapped Jack on the back with relief. "Come on, Dawson. Let’s go!"

The stunned parking attendant began to heatedly object. "But sir, that’s my bike!"

Frantically taking out his wallet, Jack flung it at the attendant’s chest. "Here, take this for collateral. We’ll try and get it back to you in one piece but if we don’t…there’s enough in there to cover it!"

The speechless parking attendant lit up like the fourth of July and finally exclaimed, "Yes, sir, Mr. Dawson. Sure thing…keep it as long as you need!"

In the meantime, Don had already mounted and cranked the bike impatiently waiting to blast off.

"You coming, Dawson?"

Shades of deja vu struck Jack. For this man, Don Hockley, was surely the one responsible for teaching his daughter to maneuver a bike and Jack eerily remembered her last ride in Rome. Jack was certain that he was the only person besides an Italian police officer that knew of that clandestine chase to the studios that first day Rose visited the set. Just remembering, brought a slight reminiscent smile to his heart and lips. That seemed so long ago…

But he’d never forget it if he lived to be a hundred. That wind blown mane of copper fire as Rose audaciously glanced at him over her shoulder that April spring morning with a hint of mischief blended with such a vulnerable sensuality that took his breath right out of his chest. He had been immediately lost…the forbidden fruit of Rose had been too tempting for him to resist or heaven forbid…ignore. Oh, he had desperately tried to refrain but that tempter’s body with an angel’s face had stripped him of his own free will. Rose was temptation and seduction personified that drove seemingly intelligent grown men to a fever pitch of sexual stupidity. Lustful challenging eyes of jade that were forever at odds with her angelic features—flashing emerald pools of heartbreak. Shaking aside poignant memories of Rose and Rome, he begrudgingly hopped on back and intuitively held on for dear life.

Heart stopping terror was not sufficient enough to describe the hair raising ride of hell that Jack Dawson had just made as he shakily got off at the hospital. At one point, he had had to just hang on and close his bulging eyes to the dangerous wild stunts Don Hockley manipulated while getting them to Rose in world record time. Running red lights, passing in oncoming traffic, nearly missing pedestrians and of course, excessively speeding with an aversion for applying brakes were just a few of the gut wrenching escapades he had barely managed to pull off. At one point, while turning a street corner, they had actually slid on the cycle’s side; nevertheless, Don never let off the gas. A trained stunt driver couldn’t have done it any better! Jack’s knees felt weaker with each step he took now that it was thankfully over. The flashing red and blue lights were growing increasingly brighter and closer. The Hockleys and their wild chases from the law…were going to get him locked up! But then again, he knew he deserved far worse than that! Of course, both Tommy and his mother had warned him that jail was probably where he was going to wind up as a result of his relationship with Rose.

Unable to help himself, he ruefully commented to Don, "I see now who taught Rose to drive a motorbike!"

Confused yet at the same time striking back with half-hearted resentment, Don harshly snapped, "Yeah, well, I did teach her most everything, Dawson!"

Jack caught the underlying meaning and hung his head in shame at the blunt reminder. He would always carry the damning guilt of hatefully bragging to Don about introducing Rose to the body’s physical pleasures. He shuddered at the embarrassing memory and was suddenly amazed that Don Hockley hadn’t murdered him with his bare hands in LA. Of course, if Jack had a daughter…and a huge knot formed in the pit of his twisting stomach. Putting himself in Don Hockley’s place was extremely enlightening and very daunting. He had to admire the man’s rigid self-control such as it was. As a matter of fact, if any male ever touched a daughter of his…consequently, he couldn’t blame Don for any punishment he deemed necessary to inflict upon him…even if he had to serve jail time for the crime. Love had cost them both dearly and he was willing to pay that price…for Rose. Because the only regrets he had was in not trusting and believing in their love.

Both men raced into the hospital to find Emma in the emergency room furiously pacing. Simultaneously, both men busted out, "Any news yet?"

Genuinely surprised at seeing them both and together, Emma wryly answered, "None. They know she has a concussion and possible brain swelling. She was still unconscious when we got here, though."

Needing to know yet dreading the answer, Jack worriedly asked, "How about the babies, Mother?"

"I don’t know, son. We’ll just have to…hope and pray!"

All three pairs of eyes united in worry and fear. Each lost in their own private guilt yet together in fervent prayer for their family. Tonight was promising to be the longest night of all their lives!

The clock ticked slower and slower. The hour hand refused to move seemingly frozen in time like the trio that took turns pacing, rubbing tired eyes, necks craning to see inside the emergency room door. No one spoke. No words were necessary. Each was lost in their own private horror—each blaming themselves. For breathless minutes the air hung thick and stale with nervous tension. Until finally, the on call doctor came out peeling off his plastic gloves to give the family the news.

"She’s holding her own…we’ve stopped the bleeding for the meantime. However, we’re unable to perform any cat scans or x-rays at this point because of the babies. But, we’re about to do an ultra sound to determine…"

"To determine what, doctor?" Emma impatiently interjected.

"To determine, uh, their conditions. It won’t take long and I’ll be right back out to let you all know."

"What do you mean by 'their conditions'? You really mean if they’re still alive, don’t you? I mean, we’re all adults here, doctor. Don’t try to sugar coat the situation…tell us the truth!" Emma’s stress level was vastly becoming apparent because she had been strong for seemingly so long for everyone that those wits that she thankfully possessed were finally threatening to fade.

"Yes, Mrs. Dawson, that’s exactly what I mean. Now, if you’ll excuse me. I need to check on my patient and perform the procedure."

Jack impaled the physician with blue shards of steel. In a surprisingly calm, clear, decisive manner, he vehemently proclaimed, "Doctor, I’m Jack Dawson…the babies’ father. I want to be there when you do it."

"Sir? I’m sorry but I don’t think that would be such a good idea. It’s highly irregular under these type of circumstances."

"I don’t give a damn what’s normal procedure, Doctor! They need me right now. I must be there and…I will be there, regardless! So, if you don’t grant permission, just call whoever you have to right now because I’m coming in!"

Hesitant but admiring the young man’s obvious devotion and fierce determination, the doctor reluctantly conceded.

Simultaneously, two more voices spoke up.

"Me, too!"

Don and Emma both stepped forward to join Jack and the doctor. After a moment of silent indecision, the physician saw the mutual adamant demeanors of the grandparents and helplessly shrugged his shoulders.

"Okay, but please…be prepared for the worst and hope for the best. That’s the only advice I can offer. Is that understood?" At their affirmative nods, he continued, "Follow me and when you get in the room, try not to be too alarmed by all the machines and tubes hooked up to Ms. Hockley. It’s routine under the circumstances so just stand back at the foot of the bed…and no hysterics regardless of what we find! Is that understood?"

The room was just as he doctor had described—but far worse. Frightening each to the depths of their troubled souls. But thankfully, Emma instantly realized the panic that was easing its way back into the two men standing on each side of her, so she comfortingly took Jack and Don’s hands and firmly held on.

Jack and Don couldn’t take their eyes off of Rose. She was so pale…so helpless and fragile. She resembled a broken, discarded porcelain doll. And they both were carrying the brunt of guilt upon their sagging shoulders. Jack and Don realized with self-loathing, this was their entire fault!

"All right, we’re ready to begin. Are you sure you all want to stay?"

Emma spoke again for all three.

"Of course we’re staying!"

As the machine began to scan Rose’s slightly swollen abdomen, the sounds of a deep ocean invaded the room seeming as if they were all riding inside a submarine hearing the light roar of a vast and deep dark sea. And then…the most glorious music ever heard…a single thump of a tiny heartbeat! Everyone gasped and Emma squeezed each man's hand so hard that his circulation was nearly cut off. But neither seemed to notice or care.

Tears glimmered in blue and green eyes. Silent prayers of gratitude were urgently whispered. And heavy sighs of relief rushed out of aching lungs that had been holding their breaths from the onset.

The doctor and nurses heard and grinned empathetically.

"Well, there’s Baby A…looks fine! Do you want to know what sex it is?"

"NO! Sorry…not yet, Doctor. We’ll have to ask Rose first when she wakes up. She may not want us to know right now! How about the other baby though?" Jack was ecstatic yet still grappling with all the uncertainties that were before them. My God, there is our baby…so tiny, so beautiful…what a holy miracle! He and Rose had made babies…not just one but two! Thank you dear God, but please…let them all be all right!

The physician was noticeably relieved and his whole professional disposition changed to that of obvious optimism. "Here, we go…so let’s find Baby B, shall we?"

It took mere seconds yet seemed another eternity but finally, "There it is! Baby B…sounds healthy! See it’s head and little heart? I can tell you this…they’re fraternal!"

"What does that mean, doctor?" Jack confusedly questioned while sighing with relief.

Emma couldn’t contain herself a moment longer. She joyously hugged her naive son and laughed yet lightly scolded, "Oh, Jack…didn’t you listen in your high school sex education courses?"

That was the cue that set Don Hockley to gruffly grumbling, "He must have learned something!"

At that sullen comment, the entire room erupted into hysterics—even Don had to grin at his own sarcasm. Except for Jack Dawson who could only charmingly blush…the second time in his life!

"Jack! Are you blushing? Well, I’ll be damn…never seen you turn so red!" Emma was so giddy, she was gushing. The only response she received was a slight grin and deeper shade of red.

Turning to Don, she impulsively put her arms around his waist and glowingly glanced up at him and laughingly teased, "You are a rascal, Don Hockley! An adorable, irresistible scoundrel…and that’s what I so love about you!"

Don Hockley’s shock registered only momentarily before he returned the exuberant hug before unexpectedly announcing, "Let’s go celebrate, Emma! Jack will probably want to sit with Rose for awhile—alone!"

Jack turned with mouth agape! He couldn’t believe his ears. His mother had just professed to loving Don Hockley and that same man who had been intent on sending him to meet his maker a few hours ago had just volunteered to leave him there alone with Rose. It was…unbelievable! What in the name of God was happening?

Outside in the smoking lounge however, Don abruptly stopped and turned to Emma.

"Care for a smoke, Ms. Dawson?"

"Sure, Mister Hockley! I believe the occasion warrants one, don’t you?"

"So, you’re his mother!" Don at last allowed his injured feelings to come to the forefront and slightly narrowed eyes of green ice.

"So, I am!"

At that admission, Don’s glittering eyes hardened while his arms crossed across his chest.

"Don, listen to me. I know you don’t want to hear this right now—may not even want to believe it. But, our fates have been destined—ever since April."

She was right of course. He didn’t want to hear any explanations right then and started to turn away in disgust at her apparent deceit. Nevertheless, Emma adamantly refused to be rejected and earnestly began to make her case.

"Now, don’t you dare turn away from me, Don Hockley! Listen to what I have to say. We can’t change what’s happened between our children. They fell in love, Don! Don’t you remember how that felt—once upon a time?"

Spinning around in agitation, Don snarled in irritation, "Emma, my daughter is just a child! Christ! She’s only seventeen years old! Her life was just…" His voice cracked with mounting distress and overwhelming fear.

"Don! Stop it right this instant! She’s not going to die! Her life and those precious babies that we just saw are just beginning! We can’t believe the worst! My God, there’s been enough of that already! That’s what has brought us up to this…misunderstandings, assumptions…life can’t be that cruel to innocent children!"

Emma whirled away with a catch in her throat, distraught at the mere possibility of losing not only their beautiful Rose but her precious grandchildren as well. All of her pent-up anxieties were catching up to her…her strength was waning and fast.

Hearing a deep sob, Don instinctively came to her side and took her delicate shoulders for comfort. Gazing into shimmering blue pools, he tried to console her the best he knew how under the circumstances.

"I know, but dammit, Emma! Your son should have known better! He’s a grown man for God’s sake!"

"I realize that, Don. And don’t think for one second that I’m condoning what he did. But life is full of ifs, should haves, and should nots. But, I just can’t fault him for choosing Rose. Who could resist such a remarkable creature that exudes such charm, beauty, and grace? My God, she’s everything a man could ever want and everything a mother would ever dream of having! Surely, you realize that!"

Glaring, Don bit out, "I think it’s obvious your son couldn’t resist her!"

Undaunted and with fierce determination, Emma proceeded with a mother’s heart of love for her child.

"If you would just allow yourself some time to get to know Jack. Give him a chance. He loves her!"

Holding up his hand to halt any further defense of Jack, he exasperatedly objected, "Do you have any idea what he thought of my daughter?"

Not allowing her to answer, he plunged ahead in righteous indignity, "He thought the worst of her! He used her, got her pregnant, and cast her away like she was some loose street whore!"

"Don, you don’t know that for certain. Those are just assumptions again!"

"I know she’s pregnant right now lying in this hospital fighting for her life because of him…and me!"

At that inadvertent admittance, Don Hockley broke down. Emma’s heart turned over at the sight of this wonderful man hurting…a man she had developed such special feelings for in so short a time. Gazing up into his troubled tear-filled eyes, she wearily sighed, "Oh, Don. There have been so many terrible misunderstandings, so many false accusations, and tragic assumptions. That probably comes from not really knowing someone before falling in love. Yes, maybe they’re young, Rose especially, and fell in love with the fantasy of passion’s pleasures, but who are we to judge other’s feelings? Time, Don, give it time. But more importantly…give them a chance."

Sensing Don was relenting somewhat, Emma went in for the kill.

Grabbing hold of Don’s shirt front, she implored with every ounce of conviction she could muster, "I’ve never begged for a damn thing in my entire life…now, I am. Please! Don’t deny them their destiny."

Releasing a heavy sigh and making a half truce, Don wearily suggested, "Let’s go back inside. I’d like to go by the chapel first and light some candles. I realize that you’re most likely not Catholic, but it’d make me feel a bit better."

Relieved and smiling slightly, "That’s a wonderful thought. We need all the help we can get. I feel ashamed to admit it, but it’s been too long since I’ve graced a place of worship. I think it’d make me feel better, too."

Smiling crookedly, Don couldn’t help but lightly tease, "Come on, Granny. Anybody ever tell you that you’re too young and pretty to be a grandmother?"

With a hint of color to her cheeks, Emma’s face lit up with hope, "Nothing’s ever sounded sweeter, Grandpa…never sweeter."

Chapter Sixteen
Stories