NEW IMPRESSIONS
Chapter Three

The sun was just setting, sending warm rays of crimson and orange across the sky as Jack ambled down the tree-lined street that would lead him to Rose's apartment. The houses in this area were spread out and mostly new. The pleasant facades were accompanied by lush gardens fed by California's weather. This time of year usually brought a number of thunderstorms, but Berkeley and the Bay area had missed the often violent weather. Jack sighed and glanced at his watch, seeing that he would still be several minutes early. He slowed his pace, squinting against the final traces of day and tried to remember the last time he had felt genuinely excited about a night out. Unlike anyone he had ever known, Rose made the prospect of this date completely extraordinary. His heart was pounding against his ears like it probably never had before.

The street came to an end, jutting into an incline that made a tiny hill. Jack could see the white rooftops of the complex from where he stood, and licking his lips purposefully, he continued toward them. His hand reached into his pocket for the address Rose had dictated to him, and he eyed the number on the door nearest the street, comparing them. He had made it. The apartment, which really more resembled a small town house, was beautifully kept and welcoming. Two large windows faced him, both of which had small but well-tended patches of flowers underneath. A wrought iron balcony on the second floor was decorated with potted green plants and several windchimes seemed to signal his arrival, as he approached the front door. Jack took a deep breath and silently encouraged himself, reaching with one clammy hand to ring the doorbell. And then he waited, wishing with all his might that tonight would turn out just as he hoped.

Rose heard the loud sound echo through the hallway where she stood, staring into a long mirror and trying desperately to convince herself that she did indeed look fine. She shuddered once, and she used a shaky palm to smooth her hair and skirt, heading briskly for the door. She'd spent the better part of two hours deciding what to wear and primping herself both physically and mentally. Rose was as ready as she would ever be for a date with Professor Jack Dawson.

The door was open in a matter of seconds, and the world behind it was exposed to Rose without a sound. On the steps stood a very impressive looking Jack. His hair for once was combed neatly behind his ears, and he wore a nicely pressed polo shirt and khakis. He looked so put together and sophisticated, but at the very same time his eyes managed to twinkle with the playfulness that had made Rose weak the Saturday before. She smiled and stepped out unto the patio, reaching inside her purse for her keys to lock the door. Her eyes met his, and Jack only grinned, opening his mouth to speak.

"Rose. It's good to see you again." She watched as he stepped forward to stand by her side, and she looked up into his face, her cheeks flushing like they always did. His gaze was piercing, and her heart was once again fluttering, on its way to losing control. This couldn't really be happening, not to her...

"You too, Jack. Let me just..." She fumbled with her keys, trying to hide the fact that her hands were shaking, and expertly locked the door, turning back around to find Jack watching her motions expectantly.

"Are you ready?" He smiled and motioned with his head toward the street. "It's not that long of a walk. And its quiet up there I think." Rose nodded and took one hesitant step towards him, slightly confused when his right hand suddenly rose in the air, reaching for her own. She gasped, observing helplessly as Jack lifted her arm, bringing her hand to face, and kissed it softly. His lips were warm on her skin, and in a strange way that even she could not quite understand, their touch was comforting. She shivered, closing her eyes briefly to the electricity that his presence brought. Opening them again, she noticed that she was suddenly very close to Jack.

"You look fabulous Rose." He let her hand go and ran his eyes over her. She appeared delicate yet strong, and her lush figure was accentuated by the silk skirt she wore. Embroidered with crystal beads, it fell just below her knees. Her hair was partially swept up, away from her eyes, and a set of pearl earrings made her look glamorous and innocent all at once.

"Thank you." She whispered this, joining him to walk toward the street. He was near to her, the heat from his body only inches away, and Rose felt immediately that she was exactly where she should be. He appeared so safe and so warm, his tanned face glowing in the dusk of the sky. The rush from his kiss on her hand was still flowing through her, and the shock from it was still boggling her mind. Never had she heard of a man really doing that, at least not this day and age. It was an act straight out of a fairy tale, of a knight in shining armor. And in the same way, Jack was such a gentleman, and the look on his face was not fake at all, but totally sincere. Rose sighed next to him, calmed and soothed by his voice and his touch, which she could still feel.

"Are you okay?" He lifted his eyebrows.

"I...I'm fine. It's just so unbelievable out here- with the sunset and everything," Rose answered him fully level headed, for probably the first time ever. At last, maybe she could settle down and truly get to know this man, look past his mystery and charms, and really see him. The way he walked was almost a shuffle- very casual. It almost made her forget that he was actually a faculty member. In this dim light, he did not even remotely resemble one.

"Hmm..." Jack's eyes looked to the sky, and he breathed deeply, quite aware of Rose's beauty beside him. The trees were swaying lightly in the wind, and their footsteps echoed on the concrete as they walked. Her soft scent overcame him, and he had no choice but to keep his eyes on her. "That perfume Rose...what is that? It's amazing." He studied her face, as she smiled in recognition. She looked down for a second, appearing almost shy.

"Oh...it's, ahh, called Beautiful." She shook her head softly back and forth, letting the cool wind race across her face.

Jack grinned and caught her gaze, nodding his head. "Then the right person is wearing it." He saw her head duck slightly, then her chin rose against the night air. She seemed to exude confidence, despite her obvious nervousness. Rose's red curls were billowing behind her magically as she walked, and he noticed that she seemed to move closer to him with every step, until their elbows were touching subtly.

This set his heart on a wild ride, but somehow Jack was able to maintain control. "Have you ever been here, to Lalime's Rose?"

She shook her head. "No actually, I've heard a lot about it...but I have never even been inside."

"Well, you're in for a treat then," Jack eyed her and smiled, "I think it's this city's best kept secret. The food is Mediterranean- really spicy and bold. I think you'll enjoy it. And the restaurant inside is outrageous, but you'll have to see that for yourself." Jack swallowed, thinking that perhaps that was exactly how he felt tonight. Spicy and bold- at least he hoped.

Rose studied him as he talked excitedly. A wave of what she recognized as energy and joy spread throughout her system, and very abruptly, she felt free and alive. Somehow this feeling had disappeared lately, in the rush of her schoolwork and her job. "Is that it right up there?" Rose pointed eagerly to a small, narrow building up the street, where music was pouring from a set of open doors. Jack laughed gently and nodded, noticing her sudden enthusiasm.

"Yep- that's it. Good thing I got a reservation though- it looks crowded." He was referring to a small, packed crowd outside the cafe, mostly made up of young people, who seemed to melt against the night. Rose breathed deeply and looked to her side, sharing a gentle smile with Jack.

"Well, come on then," Rose lifted her eyebrows and started walking faster, checking to make sure Jack was following. He jogged for a second to catch back up, tossing some hair from his face. His hand caught the door to Lalime's, and he held it open for Rose, waving his hand dramatically. Rose laughed and looked around her as she entered, her nose and ears perking to the smells and sounds of this place. It was rather dark, but the din of jubilant voices and the sizzling of food seemed inviting. Jack joined her, his hand grazing her back slightly as he motioned for her to step up to the podium, where he promptly informed the host of their arrival. He seemed surprised that they were led to their seats so quickly, and he smiled back at Rose, shrugging his shoulders as if in disbelief.

They were seated near the back, at a cozy table for two. In the center a pair of bright pink candles encased in glass, sent their shadows over the walls. The walls themselves, she noticed, were a brighter shade of pink. Jack watched happily as her eyes lit up. "It's pretty great isn't it?" Rose nodded as she hung her purse from the back of her chair. She stretched her neck to study the large paintings that adorned the walls. "Those are by local artists I think. A little too wild for my tastes, but it's nice." Rose turned back to Jack in pure awe, drinking in his face and his hands, and most of all- his voice, which sent her mind flying.

"And what are your tastes exactly Jack?" Rose smirked happily and settled into her chair, trying to take in everything around her at the moment. But at the center of it all was Jack, who ran his hand over the smooth tablecloth. If she wasn't mistaken, his cheeks were turning just the palest shade of red. He finally built up enough strength to look up at her, a huge grin on his face.

He eyed her strongly, moving his head but never moving his gaze. "Subtle. Things are so much more powerful if they're truthful. You see- all of these people, they...they want to hide behind the abstract concept." Suddenly Jack seemed very concentrated and engrossed, and pointed furtively to a strange collage that hung near their table. "That one, for example, it's unique, but what can someone really get from that? That's why I like Monet and O'Keefe...what's there is there. It's dreamlike without being..." He sighed and paused, as if frustrated with himself for not finding the right words, "Overdone is the word I guess. The most beautiful things are the ones right in front of you." He rested his chin in his hands, and let his eyes roam freely. Rose sighed, completely content to be drowning in the sight of his face and in his words. The irony of his comment to her, was striking. He turned back to face her, raising his eyebrows as if confirming what he had just said. Rose felt suddenly that her head was spinning. Her hands were weakened by his stare, and it was as if she had turned into that silly-putty she had played with as a little child.

"What do you think?" Jack smiled lazily and leaned back in his chair, using this as an excuse to study her intensely. She did look stunning tonight, and the wild lights of the restaurant were playing on her coppery hair, giving her face almost an ethereal appearance. She paused before she spoke, and Jack narrowed his eyes, cocking his head to the side.

"I really don't know much about art..." She shook her head back and forth and then looked up, a huge smile on her face, "but I do think some of this stuff is absurd." Jack laughed heartily and leaned into the table, toward her.

"The Student Center...last week, at Casablanca." Jack's eyes danced wildly and his mouth curved upwards. Rose opened her mouth in surprise, her heart pounding again for just a moment. She hadn't thought he remembered, or recognized her. She had figured that if he did, certainly he would have already mentioned it. She wanted to be embarrassed, but one look at the adorable expression on Jack's face erased those thoughts. His hand tapped the table, noticing her discomfort. "I'm sorry...I just realized that is where I've seen you...am I right?" His voice was soft and concerned.

"Yes...I mean, I was there. And I...I sat behind you." She laughed gently, knowing that all of her activities that night would now be disclosed. Jack nodded, his cheeks red from the heat of the room.

"Really? Didn't know that. I just saw you...as we were leaving." His face turned serious and his hands ran over the large and so far, ignored, menu in front of him. Their eyes locked, and for just a second Rose was lost in his, completely consumed by their deep color.

"I could barely keep my eyes off you, to be honest."

Jack shook his head and bit his lip. "And now look at us. Life just works in weird ways sometimes. I didn't think I'd be this lucky Rose..." He grinned vibrantly and studied her. Rose looked flustered and inside she wanted to scream excitedly. She wanted to tell this man that no one had ever told her something like that, or paid her such a sincere and lovely compliment. She didn't think he would understand how much that meant.

"Jack..." She whispered his name, suddenly very engrossed in her opened menu. But he could see the smile on her face from the side, where she was bent over the list of entrees. Examining his own possible choices, he didn't notice when Rose's head shot up excitedly without warning.

"Jack, who was that woman with you?" She asked this with unabashed boldness, but backed off slightly after she realized how obnoxious that must have sounded. But Jack was only chuckling to himself, completely amused. To think that Rose had witnessed such a disaster of an evening.

"She's my neighbor- she just moved in actually," Jack paused as he silently closed his menu, "and she has an administrative job at Berkeley now. I don't think she quite knew what the film night was all about. I saw her....asked her to sit with me." Jack put his forefinger to his cheek, "I wanted to be nice- I mean, she looked so lonely..." Rose folded her arms across her chest, listening intently, as Jack continued, "I know what it's like to be alone at those kinds of things. But it was a...a huge mistake. To put it mildly." Jack's eyes darted towards Roses. He knew there was no comparison. The woman sitting across from him now was genuinely special- and he knew that after only several hours total of being with Rose. The cold and icy neighbor from that night- he knew her now as an extremely annoying and angry person.

"I'm sorry for bringing it up." Rose smiled softly, sounding apologetic. But in reality, she was quite relieved to hear that the "mystery-woman" had no significance in Jack Dawson's life.

"It's okay. In fact, I just can't help laughing over it...I couldn't even really enjoy the movie. She didn't understand it...I had to constantly explain...everything." Jack said this last word with great dread, looking up to see their waiter approaching finally. "But at least one good thing did come out of that night...." Jack smiled almost coyly at her, sending her pulse flying. She had no time to respond though, because the waiter had already taken out his small ordering pad, and was poised to take down their requests. Rose sighed and found it hard to control her smiles, but managed to ask for some sort of spiced steak that she had to point to. There was no way she could pronounce the proper name. Jack held his menu up and declared that he would have the same, sending the waiter off to bring their drinks. He turned back to face Rose, and she could tell that he was about to speak again. But that was okay- because Rose was willing to listen to his beautiful words forever.

"How did the article come out?" Jack rested his elbows on the table, inquiring quietly.

"Oh..." Rose nodded to herself and recalled several nights earlier, when she'd put the final flourishes on the piece. "I gave it to Professor Townsend a few days ago. The paper came out today in fact...I have it here somewhere." She stretched her neck to reach for her purse, but Jack's hand flew suddenly to her own, gently stopping her. Rose looked up, fully aware of his touch.

"Not now. I don't want to waste time reading about myself." Jack's eyes were shimmering again. It was those windows into Jack that hinted to Rose of a personality that ran deeper than anyone was quite aware of. She turned back around.

"Alright then," she smiled candidly, "what exactly would you like to talk about?"

"Tell me all about your escapades at Casablanca. Did you know who I was?" Jack tried to appear innocent, but the teasing look in his eye was obvious. Rose tilted her head and good naturedly lowered her eyes. She giggled, the sound reverberating through Jack's ears like sweet music. She swatted some hair from her shoulder and eyed him playfully.

"I think you know the answer to that one, Professor Dawson."

Two hours later, they were finishing dessert that Jack had ordered, a decadent dish of sweet creme brulee which they had shared. Rose twirled her spoon around once, laying it down gently. She sighed, looking up at Jack, who at the moment had turned around to signal for their waiter. Her eyes glanced at the back of his head and she settled contentedly back into her chair. The dinner had gone by so quickly, and as the time had progressed, it seemed that they found more and more to talk about. Until their conversation sounded, to anyone else observing, like a whirl of laughter. They’d discussed everything from Berkeley and Rose’s courses, to the sights of Paris, where Jack had studied for a semester as an undergraduate. Now she found her heart falling at the prospect of this wonderful evening coming to an end.

Jack was turned around now, nodding politely to the waiter, who had placed the check on the table. The waiter, an older man with silver hair, only smiled and adjusted his thick glasses. Rose watched as Jack reached for his wallet and she opened her mouth. She could not even get one word out before Jack laughed and held up his hand, shaking his head. "Don’t even offer, Rose. I’m from Wisconsin, remember?" His eyes twinkled as he sent the amused waiter off with the paid bill. Rose smiled, nodding. He always knew just what to say.

"I remember. Just a farm boy, right?" She laughed and reached for her small purse, draping it across her shoulder. Jack grinned and cleared his throat.

"That’s right. Listen, Rose, I kind of left in a hurry, earlier tonight and I think I may have forgotten to feed my dog." Jack laughed again as if he expected Rose to find that incredibly stupid. "Would you mind if we ran by there quickly...It’s only a few blocks from here. Just so I can check on him?" Jack swallowed, watching her reaction. True he had forgotten to feed Claude. But he also didn’t want to say good night to Rose just yet. He was enormously relieved when she said yes.

"No, that’s fine." She stood up and pushed in her chair. "I’d like to see your dog, actually. I love dogs, but never had one."

Jack stood also and motioned for her to walk in front of him, looking at her in mock awe. "That’s terrible. I couldn’t imagine. I’ve had Claude now for...almost seven years." Rose gulped, as she headed for the door. She squeezed through the mass of people. Seven years ago...she would have been thirteen then for goodness sakes. And Jack had already been here in California, studying at UCLA. She quickly tried to shake the thought.

"Claude? Monet, I assume?" Rose looked up at Jack, lifting her eyebrows, as he opened the door for them.

So she was enlightened enough about art to know his favorite artist’s full name. There was more to Rose than met the eye. But then he had suspected that the first time he had seen her. He looked down at her, noticing a slight shaking of her shoulders. Frustrated that he had nothing with which to keep her warm, his hands fidgeted and twisted behind his back. At a loss for what to do, he gave in to what came naturally. He slowly slipped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her gently toward him. She looked up at him thankfully, seemingly grateful and he noticed that her shivering had quieted somewhat. "It gets chilly once that sun goes down. I guess I didn’t realize it would be so late when we would be heading back." Jack spoke in almost a whisper. It was quiet now on the street. The crowd outside the restaurant had thinned and the street was almost empty.

Rose felt a current of electricity whirl through her body as Jack’s arm was now draped almost casually around her. She really had been cold and now protected somewhat from the wind, she was enjoying the walk much more. Whether it was his touch or his near proximity that warmed her really did not matter. He had proved in yet another way, just what a considerate person he was. "This is fine. It’s much better," she said leaning close to him. "So your dog is named after your favorite artist?" She repeated the question, hoping to lead the conversation away from anything too intimate. Being so close to Jack was still a jolt to her system.

"Guilty as charged." Jack threw his head back against the wind. "My house is just a few streets that way." He pointed toward the small hill they were approaching. Rose nodded and tried to silence her pounding heart. She wondered what his home would be like. Already, she imagined a place filled with paintings and easels.

"You own a home?" she asked, wondering why he wanted a whole house for only one person.

"No. I just rent it from a retired faculty member. With Claude, I needed a yard and some space for all my work." He stopped for a moment and looked down as Rose. "Are you a little warmer now?" She nodded quietly, her eyes shining with contentment. Satisfied that she was alright, he continued. "Claude…he’s something else. The worst guard dog in the world, I swear. He could sleep through a hurricane." Jack glanced down again at Rose, studying her as she walked beside him in the shadows of the streetlights. "So how come you never had one…a dog, I mean?"

Rose grinned and lifted her head. "My mother, actually. She can’t stand them. I begged and begged for years when I was little, but she would never give in." For a moment she looked almost wistful. Jack bent his head, turning the first corner on their right and guiding Rose along with him.

"Well, you can get your own now." He smiled tenderly and Rose felt a warmth flow through her.

"I will someday. But I have a feeling that my roommates would have hissy fits if they came back in August and discovered dog hair everywhere…"

Jack chuckled and nodded his head in agreement. He saw her hands fidgeting with the beads on her skirt. Was she still nervous? He hoped that his next words might calm her. "Rose, I haven’t thanked you yet for coming out with me tonight."

His mouth was set in a firm line and his face read absolute sincerity. "You don’t have to thank me Jack." Rose paused, raising her eyes to get a glimpse of the stars. "I should be thanking you, really." Rose lowered her lashes and smiled shyly.

"Come on, we’re here." He gently let go of her and began to stride in the direction of his small yard. Rose glanced up at the house, curious about this place of Jack’s. It wasn’t very big, just tall and narrow. In the darkness, the trees were dancing in the shadows across the brick. Somehow, she ended up next to Jack again, watching as he fit his key into the lock, and opened the door. With a smile on his face, he signaled for her to enter.

"Claude…come here boy," he called for the dog as he placed his keys on a table near the door. The jingling sound must have grabbed the dog’s attention and the next thing Rose saw was a large yellow lab, lazily turn the corner into the tiny hall where they stood. She looked from the dog to Jack and breathed deeply, stepping closer to the animal.

"So this is Claude, huh?" Jack watched in amazement as Rose smiled and carefully knelt down onto the wooden floor and ran her hand along the dog’s back. She crinkled her nose and laughed as Claude’s tail began to wag and he placed one paw on her shoulder, nearly causing her to lose her balance. Jack bent his head slightly, finding it hard to move his eyes away from this tender scene. Now this was something he had never witnessed. But he wasn’t surprised to see that Rose was unlike his past dates. Her kindness was rare and it seemed to seep into everything she did.

"Poor thing. Jack, you’d better feed him." Rose turned around, still on the floor and rubbed Claude’s head once more.

"Good idea," he agreed, remembering at last why they had come here in the first place. "I’ll be right back."

Jack called for Claude and then they headed for the kitchen. His footsteps became muffled and Rose stood slowly, for the first time realizing where she was. This was obviously an older house. She could tell from the tall ceilings and thick walls. How strange for her to even be here, but at the same time, she didn’t feel uneasy at all. She walked into the room adjacent to the hall, which was obviously Jack’s studio combined with a living area. It wasn’t messy, just cluttered. There were several oak bookcases that appeared to be antique and a set of blue furniture that was covered with a white cloth. In the center of the room, an easel had taken residence, its canvas still blank.

Rose smiled to herself and listened for a moment to the sounds coming from what she guessed was the kitchen. Claude’s collar was shaking in the distance now and she heard the low whisper of Jack’s voice as he spoke to the dog. Her eyes roamed over the walls, which were painted the palest shade of yellow. They were mostly bare except for two framed paintings that dominated the space. Rose had never seen Jack’s work, but she was sure that they were in fact his. One was of what appeared to be a small town train station of the past. But her eyes were drawn more to the other. The sandy color at the bottom, she realized, was a beach. The ocean was represented by graceful strokes of white and blue, where the horizon met the water. Rose’s mouth opened involuntarily and she couldn’t help but gawk at the very peaceful and extraordinary image. Two figures were walking hand in hand, a man and a woman. The man’s face could be seen from the side and she could tell that he had blond hair. His build was much like Jack’s, but this man was much older. Mesmerized, Rose did not even notice when a shuffle sounded behind her.

"Do you like it?" Jack whispered softly, standing only a few feet behind her. She nearly jumped, turning to find his comforting features studying her. All she could do was nod. There was a serious expression on his face again, almost in a sad way. Instead of feeling out of place, Rose knew very suddenly that she wanted to know what the sadness was about. If he would tell her. Something told her that maybe she had hit on the reason for his quiet responses about his early life the day she had interviewed him.

Jack stepped closer, until his head was only inches from Rose’s. "Those are my parents." He looked down and then lifted his eyes, meeting hers straight on. A faint smile reached Rose’s lips.

"It’s beautiful. They must be very proud." Her voice was soft and Jack was lulled by it, struggling with the idea of delving further into this. But she had to know. If this was going to go anywhere, if they were going to go anywhere.

"They, they died, Rose. They never got to see an ocean." He swallowed hard and Rose detected a catch in his voice. "But they always dreamt of it." Rose closed her eyes, not knowing exactly what to say. But she knew she had to say something, grateful that she now understood how vulnerable this man was.

"I’m sorry, Jack." She lightly placed her hand on Jack’s arm and repeated her words of sympathy. Her eyes joined with his and Jack nodded solemnly, moving his gaze to the painting. He’d stared at it for hours on end before, that wasn’t new. But someone else who seemed to understand was sharing it with him. And that was something different. Rose’s voice was full of genuine concern. Her touch was one of sincerity. Most people cringed when he said that, showed their discomfort openly through frosty words. Rose though was different. Not only her kindness showed in everything she did, but he could tell that she was a person filled with compassion. Something that was indeed rare in the circle of people he had met here.

"It’s okay. It’s been a long time now." He smiled wistfully and finally summoned up enough courage to take Rose’s hand, running his palm softly against hers. She shivered at his touch, feeling his warm breath against his face. "There’s something I want to show you." His mood seemed to lift suddenly. Jack grinned and began leading her towards the back of the house, leaving Rose to wonder helplessly where they were going. But at the same time, she was filled with excitement at the prospect of going anywhere with this man.

There was a set of glass doors that apparently led out onto some kind of porch or patio. Jack expertly pulled on the silver bar that joined them, breathing the night air as he stepped through and helped Rose. She blinked her eyes and saw that she was in a small garden. Small lights lighted a narrow concrete path. There were flowers trailing everywhere. A trellis with climbing roses stood in the middle of the garden. She looked at Jack whose playful smile was now reinstated on his handsome face.

"It’s like a fairyland with those little lights." The more her eyes adjusted to the dim light, the more she saw.

"Don’t look at me. I’m not responsible for all this. I have a brown thumb." He chuckled and started walking, pulling an impressed Rose with him. "The owner of the house sends a gardener along every week, just so it stays this way. And to insure that when my lease is up, he’ll still have a garden."

Rose gripped Jack’s hand tightly against her own, making eye contact as she spotted a stone fountain in the middle of all this. It was spurting low beams of water, which glistened and reflected in the low lighting of the garden. "Is this what you wanted to show me?"

"Well, this is nice and I love the sound of the water. But come on over here. This is what I really wanted you to see." His eyes met hers and he saw a hint of uncertainty. "Come on, it’s just over here."

She let him lead her to the far corner of the garden. It was darker that the rest of the area, but scent of flowers was stronger. She glanced at Jack who had a mysterious look on his face. Then she took a deep breath and let the pleasant odors wash over her. "It’s lovely Jack, but just why is this place special, this corner?"

"This corner has many of the flowers that were in Monet’s garden in Giverny. Roses, hollyhocks, delphinium, sweet peas. It smells wonderful too, doesn’t it?" He turned his head to see her lean her back and breath deeply. "Rose." He murmured softly next to her ear. "Would you like to go on Sunday to the museum in San Francisco to see the ones they have there? If you aren’t busy of course."

Rose closed her eyes concentrating on the nearness of Jack, the rustling of the wind and the gurgling sound of the fountain. Never before had things felt so right, so perfect. She exhaled slowly and gave her answer. "I’d love to." As she spoke she glanced up in the night sky. For a change, the sky was clear and a few twinkling stars glittered brightly inspite of the lights of the city. Rose barely felt the pressure on her shoulder, but the sound of ragged breathing was more noticeable. Her senses seemed to be taking leave of her. Sensations that she never knew existed coursed through body. Barely able to speak, she uttered whatever came into her mind. "Everything was perfect tonight, Jack. It, it was wonderful."

Jack gently turned Rose so that she faced him. He looked deeply into her eyes and the look of candor and contentment there, mirrored his own feelings. "Rose, I don’t know what to say…except that maybe we could give it a perfect ending." He watched her pupils dilate and saw a slight quiver on her lips.

She held her breath as she felt his electrifying touch on he waist. And then more tingling as one of his hands moved higher along her back. Rose stood transfixed, never dreaming that Jack Dawson could have this kind of effect on her. Oh, he had rattled her enough during the interview and on the phone. But that this should actually be happening was almost more than she could absorb.

Rose took her cue from Jack and raised her face to his. Her arms moved automatically around his chest. With the world spinning around her, Rose moaned slightly and relaxed into Jack’s arms. She felt the contact of his lips and welcomed his mouth against hers. At first the pressure was gentle, tender almost. But then the intensity increased and it seemed that everything, from the garden to the stars were exploding around her.

Jack felt first their mouths and then their bodies melt together. Never in his life had he been so affected by a woman. Something was happening that he could not yet define. He could feel her rapid breathing as he held her in his arms. And his own heart was pounding like the surf at high tide.

Slowly he straightened and broke the kiss. He rested his forehead against hers trying to control his hammering pulse. "Rose, you didn’t mind…" Then he realized what an inane comment he was making.

Rose looked up at him, her eyes blinking, trying to focus on him in the close proximity in which they stood. She sighed and rested her head on his shoulder, shaking it slightly. "No. No, I didn’t mind." As she uttered those words, she felt him readjust his arms, crushing her gently against him. "Mmm, Jack. I…I...This has been the perfect ending to this evening."

"Rose?" He saw her long lashes flutter as she gazed up at him. He didn’t need to hear an answer to his unspoken question. She just raised her head and found his lips, enabling them to continue that languid, tender kiss.

Jack felt a movement at his knees, a rhythmic beating against his legs. There was unexplainable warmth on his slacks. When a low groan erupted, he lifted his head and moved his face away from Rose. Puzzled, he looked down and saw Claude wiggling his way into their embrace. He heard a giggle from Rose. Her hands covered her mouth and he could see in her eyes the humor she found in this situation.

"So you’ve trained him to be a chaperone?" Now she was laughing so hard, she could hardly speak.

Jack watched, pleased at her response, knowing that any other woman would have been annoyed at Claude’s interference. He felt his face heat and was sure that he must be blushing. "Maybe he was protecting me," Jack remarked jokingly, now knowing that Rose would not be insulted.

"Maybe he wants to get his rest." A brilliant smile spread across Rose’s face. "Actually, Jack, I should probably be going. I promised two of the little girls that are going to be in the Head Start program that I would join them at their church picnic tomorrow…with cookies." She watched his face, hoping that he would not think this was an excuse to leave. "With cookies," she continued, "that I still have to bake."

Jack placed his hand on her shoulder. He was not surprised that Rose would be doing something that like. She cared a great deal about everyone. Clearly, she was the most amazing woman he had ever met. "Come on, Rose. We’ll go now. I have to be up early too. I’m supposed to help one of the teaching assists pack his van. He is moving back home."

Their eyes met and the silence of the garden seemed deafening. Rose hoped that the bubbling fountain covered that sound of her wildly galloping heart. She was aware only of the three inches where Jack touched her. How on earth would she be able to get through tomorrow, knowing that Sunday was only hours away.

Jack studied Rose, her carefully arranged hair, now hanging slightly disheveled, around her lovely face. She seemed to bloom here in this garden, as at home as the carefully planted beds of flowers. However reluctant he was to take her back, he knew that he would be counting the hours until Sunday. Maybe he could stretch out the day, starting with brunch and end with a dinner of carryouts here. Anything to prolong his day with Rose. Spending the day at the Palace of the Legion of Honor with Rose, discussing and expounding on art was a dream come true. Whatever they did, he just wanted to be with her. He’d studied long and hard about art in school and he knew how to recognize beauty when he saw it. And she certainly was beautiful. But more than that, he understood that what he felt now had less to do with art than it did with chemistry.

Chapter Four
Stories