Charlie Hamilton was a young man Jack's age, born in Santa Monica, California. He had light brown hair and the signature Hamilton-Dawson blue eyes, but Jack was beginning to wonder if he'd ever get a girl until he heard of Miss Melanie Calvert, a young Savannah girl who, according to Charlie, was one of the smallest girls that he had ever seen. He'd never met her, but he was going to now.
Jack had a very complicated family that was also very large. His father, Matthew Dawson, had married Evelyn Hamilton a couple of years before Jack was born. His father had three brothers and one sister—Jack's Uncle James, Uncle Rodney, Uncle Harry, and Aunt Josephine. His grandfather, Edgar Dawson, who had married his grandmother, Bonita Greenville, was said to have been a tough man who grew up with an even tougher father. Rhett Dawson, his great-grandfather, was nothing like his great-grandmother, Elizabeth Johnson. They'd had Edgar, another son named Henry, and a daughter named Bonnie, who had died young. Edgar married Bonita and they had had five children.
James Dawson was long dead, shortly dying after his wife, Lillian, died during childbirth. Together, Lillian and James had had a total of six daughters, and yet only one of them still remained. The eldest, Ethel, had died of tuberculosis a few months ago, or so Jack had heard from his aunt. The next sister, Marianne, had died a few weeks before. Bethany Dawson, the third, had died of a fever as an infant. Christina had drowned in a lake after she carelessly fell in, and Margaret, who loved horseback riding, tried jumping over a fence and fell, breaking her neck in an instant. Only the youngest, Elizabeth, a sweet, gentle girl with mousy brown hair and the deepest blue eyes that Jack had ever seen, remained.
Rodney Dawson was long dead as well, dying with his wife, Annie, and son, Edward, in a house fire similar to the one that Jack's parents had perished in. Jack barely remembered his Uncle Rodney, or any of his uncles, for that matter. His Uncle Harry had never married and never had children, and had died in a carriage accident a few years before Jack's birth.
Jack's Aunt Josephine was the only remaining Dawson of the previous generation. When Elizabeth's parents had perished, she and her remaining sisters had lived with Josephine, though now it was just Elizabeth and Josephine. Elizabeth was fifteen, while Josephine was in her forties. Jack didn't remember her too well, for he hadn't seen her in nearly ten years. All he remembered was that Josephine had never married and Elizabeth was almost like her own daughter.
Evelyn's side of the family was a little less complicated, and Jack didn't know farther than his grandparents on the Hamilton side of the family. His grandfather, Charles Hamilton I, and his grandmother, Catharine Hamilton, had never spoken to their children, and had ended up dying alone and in peace. Jack had never known too much about them and had only seen them when he was around five or six. He had two aunts and an uncle on the Hamilton side of his family.
Angel Hamilton had been a pretty young woman according to the stories that his mother had told him. Jack had never known his Aunt Angel because she had died in her early twenties from typhoid.
Maude Hamilton Jefferson, on the other hand, Jack had met on several occasions. The Hamiltons came from Santa Monica, California, while the Dawsons came from Chippewa Falls, Wisconsin. Maude, her husband, Clarence, and their young boy, Thomas, lived in Santa Monica in a large house that Clarence had built for his family. Jack had always thought that the house was too big for three people to live in, but he never intruded in his aunt's business.
Charles Hamilton II was Charlie's father. He had died years ago from unknown causes. His aunt, Ophelia Beggard, remained in Santa Monica, alone in the large house that Charlie had grown up in. Charlie now lived in Chippewa Falls, but often visited Jack, for he and Charlie were almost like brothers. But not even Charlie could replace the empty place in Jack's heart where his real brother, Joshua Dawson, had been.
Joshua had been young when he died, being only eight years old when Jack was ten. Joshua had the signature Dawson blue eyes with the Hamilton hair color of light brown. He and Jack were playing together at a party one day at his Aunt Josephine's, and the property had included a pond. They were playing in the pond when Jack had told Joshua to go get a large stick that was floating in the middle of it. Joshua was scared and couldn't even swim, but Jack had bullied him into it. Joshua had drowned by the time Jack had returned to the lake with the adults, but the strange part was that no one had found a body. The lake had been searched numerous times, but Joshua's body had never been found. To this day, Jack still wondered if his brother had actually died, and if he had, he regretted the fact that he'd bullied him into swimming, and he hated himself for it.
Charlie was staying in a shabby hotel. Jack ran in, past the clerk and to room 214, banging on the door as loudly as he could. Charlie answered, slightly disheveled.
"Easy, Jack! You gave me quite a fright!" Charlie cried.
"Oh, sorry," said Jack. "Listen, I need to talk to you!"
"In private, or is it all right if Mellie is here listening?" Charlie asked him, referring to the girl waiting for him in their hotel room.
"It's fine," said Jack, ushering him into the bedroom and loudly slamming the door behind him. "You know that woman I've been talking about for ages, Rose DeWitt Bukater?"
"Yeah," said Charlie, sitting down on the bed next to the small young girl. Melanie Calvert was a very small, narrow young girl, probably around seventeen or eighteen. She had dark brown hair tied back and hidden beneath a bonnet, and Jack could swear that Melanie was wearing a hoopskirt. Probably because she's so small and she feels out of place, Jack thought to himself as he stood before the young couple. Melanie smiled sweetly at him, and her soft brown eyes glowed with happiness.
"Well, I heard today that she's marrying some upper class guy named Sherman. Charlie, I have to get her back! What do I do?" Jack's voice sounded desperate as he cried for help that his cousin couldn't give him. Charlie sighed.
"Honestly, Jackie, I don't know what to tell you. How did you get her the first time?" he asked him.
"The first time? Well, I saved her from this bastard named Caledon Hockley, who abused her, but that's not the case here. At the studio, I was supposed to paint her father's portrait and he told me that this guy's kind to her, he's caring, and, according to his housemaids, Rose tells them that she loves him! I don't know what happened or how that came to be, but I love Rose terribly and I can't let this happen!" Jack explained quickly.
"Oh, I don't see how she could go loving another man in a matter of four months, especially if she's been thinking that you were dead all this time," Melanie told him calmly. Her voice instantly calmed Jack's nerves, for it was so sweet and so caring, and it was as if Melanie could solve any problem in an instant.
"Mellie, it's true. When I wrote her after those four months, she never wrote me back, and I've written to her about three or four times. I don't see how she can love this guy if she's only known him for a short time," Jack said, a bit calmer than before.
"Well, she fell in love with you, didn't she? And she'd only known you for a few days then," Melanie replied, and Jack's nerves calmed even more.
"Well, yes, but…she told me she loved me, and now she loves this other man? I just…I don't know what to do…" Jack sat down in a nearby chair with his hands on his face, his fingers running through his hair. He remembered when it was Rose's fingers and not his own that were doing so, and his heart surged at the memory. He loved her so much, and suddenly, she didn't love him back? What could this man have possibly done to take his Rose from him? Well, she was his Rose, now…
Unfortunately, Jack didn't know what Rose had been thinking before she thought she'd fallen in love with James. He didn't know how much she'd cried for him. He didn't know how much she thought of him, how much she longed for his kiss upon her lips and longed for him to hold her in his arms. He didn't know how desperately she loved him, and he didn't seem to think that it was even possible.
Suddenly, a small, warm, fragile hand appeared on his shoulder, and Jack looked up into Melanie's soft brown eyes. "There, there," she said. "There isn't a need to fret. I believe that this Rose loves and cares for you dearly, but she just doesn't realize what she'd have with you." Jack sighed again.
"I wish you were right, Mellie," said Jack. He stood up. "Well, I guess I'd better be on my way. Thanks for trying to help me, Charlie, and Mellie, thank you for the encouragement." Melanie smiled at him.
"Dear, she loves you so, I'm sure. The only way to learn if she does or does not is to ask her," she informed him.
"But how can I ask her? I mean…" Suddenly, an idea popped into Jack's head. That day when he'd seen her for the first time after four months took place in Lynette's saloon, and she was talking to Lynette! Oh, that was perfect! He'd just ask Lynette to talk to Rose and arrange to arrive at the same time as Rose so he could talk to her. His face lit up, and he took Melanie's hands in his. "Thank you so much, Mellie!" With those final words spoken, Jack raced out of the hotel room, leaving Charlie and Melanie alone with their thoughts.