“I still cannot believe you're here.” Twelve-year-old Lizzy beamed as she hugged Jack yet again. She felt so happy he was here. The atmosphere at the table was amazing. All of the children sat around it, along with, of course, Rose. They had all welcomed Jack with open arms, Lizzy most of all.
“Well, I am glad to be here. I missed you all.” Jack touched Lizzy's face and kissed her forehead. For her age, she was tall and almost reached Jack's shoulders. Her face a picture of beauty, so much like her mother’s.
Sipping her wine, Rose viewed the scene before her and smiled. Her heart soared. “It’s good that you're here.”
Nodding, Jack gazed briefly at Rose. He had felt her eyes on him all night throughout dinner. Her eyes traveled to Lilly. The gorgeous little child who was Jack's. Her heart panged when she thought of the mother she would never meet. Her hair was golden in color and her eyes large and brown. Her smile lit up the entire room and she giggled when her father tickled her little stomach. Just seeing Jack with a child made Rose’s heart ache, knowing that two more of his children were at the table. The night before, as she lay in bed, she had thought endlessly of telling Jack he was Olivia and Charlie's father. But was it too late now? Olivia was ten and Charlie was eight. He had missed out on their childhoods, seeing them grow, and it broke her heart. It really was too late. He would hate her for keeping the secret from him for too long.
“I have something to show you, Uncle Jack.” Lizzy scrambled off her chair at the dining table before heading to her room. Jack looked at Rose questioningly, and she simply shrugged once. Moments later, she returned, a piece of paper in her hand. Skipping back from her room, Lizzy planted the piece of paper in front of Jack on the dining room table.
“What is that, sweetie?” Rose asked her daughter. Jack slowly unfolded the slightly crumpled piece of paper to reveal a drawing of Rose and Lizzy—the one he had drawn back in 1916 in Santa Monica. Lizzy was just a child then, and Rose a young woman at only twenty-one. Shaking his head in disbelief, Jack could not believe Lizzy had kept the simple drawing all of these years. Jack’s familiar scrawl was on the bottom. JD, September 12, 1916.
“Oh, my…” Rose gasped as Jack handed the drawing to Rose. “Lizzy, I never knew you kept this…”
“It was too special to throw away.” Lizzy grinned. “I can still remember that day, Uncle Jack.”
“What is it?” Olivia broke in, her large blue eyes widening with curiosity.
“It's a sketch, darling. It’s something Jack drew before you and Charlie were born…it’s Lizzy and me when she was just a little girl.”
She handed the paper to Olivia, who looked over it. “Mom, you were so pretty.”
“She was, Liv,” Jack spoke, almost shocking himself at his words. “She was beautiful.” Jack's words were startling to Rose. They caught each other’s gaze for a few moments and felt the rest of the world would disappear with just a simple look into each other’s eyes. “As were you, Lizzy.” Jack kissed her forehead.
“Wow. This is really you, Mom?” Charlie ran his fingers over the old charcoal drawing. Charlie laughed before holding the drawing next to his mother’s face, as if comparing the two.
“Of course it is.” Rose laughed at her son. She ran her fingers through his soft blond hair and he fidgeted, embarrassed at his mother’s actions.
“You look different.” He squinted at the picture.
“I do, darling. I was younger then, a lot younger.”
A small cry came from Lilly as she kicked in her chair. Jack gently pulled her from the chair and sat her on his knee. He played with her delicate blonde hair, and she leaned her tiny face against her father’s chest and yawned heavily. Jack kissed her little face and she cried again. “Oh, I think someone's tired.” Jack smiled at his daughter. A small nod of Lilly's head confirmed this. Her eyelids seemed heavy as she rested herself against her father’s chest.
“How old is she?” Olivia asked Jack.
“She was two in August,” Jack replied. He stood Lilly on his knee. Her eyes opened and her face screwed up in disappointment at being disturbed.
“I think I'd better go. This little angel needs her sleep.”
Rose felt her heart drop. She didn't want Jack to go. She wished to have time alone with him to talk with him, to tell him how much she missed him, how much she loved him. “You're right, Jack. Come on, you three. It’s time for bed for you soon.”
“But, Mom…” Charlie started. He had had such a good night. It was only nine o’clock. He didn't want to go to bed.
“Charlie, it’s past your bedtime already. You have school tomorrow. Now, go wash your faces, and I will be up in a minute to tuck you in.”
Sighing in defeat, Charlie stood. Olivia followed. Both of them kissed their mother good night before heading to their rooms, followed by Lizzy a few minutes later. By this time, Lilly had fallen peacefully asleep in her father’s arms and he dared not disturb her. Gently, he lay her sleeping body down on the couch before kissing her hair and touching her little face. “Good night, angel,” he whispered gently. Smiling, he watched as her small chest rose and fell. He could still not believe he was a father, that he had helped create the perfect child laying asleep before him. He did not feel Rose's presence at the door to the living room.
She watched him with his child. He was such a wonderful father. “She is beautiful, Jack,” she whispered, and his head whipped around. Rose's voice startled him. Tiptoeing out of the living room, he closed the door slightly so he could still see Lilly asleep. He was face to face with Rose. They were alone, and now he didn't know what to do.
“She is perfect. I cannot imagine life without her now. Words cannot describe how happy she makes me, just seeing the little things she does each day. Her first words, her first steps…the utter gibberish she talks sometimes…” Jack gushed. Rose reached her hands out towards him and he took them.
“I know, Jack. Being a parent is the most wonderful thing in the world…”
Feeling Jack's thumb rub over her hands, Rose felt herself moving closer to him. She leaned her head against his body and relaxed herself against him. Hesitantly, he kissed her hair. She smelled wonderful. He closed his eyes, taking her in, feeling his heart skip a beat once again. “It is, Rose.”
Reluctantly, Rose pulled herself away from Jack. Inside, she felt happy that he was here with her. They had so much to talk about, but neither of them knew where to start.
“Jack…I…” Rose started, but couldn't carry on. She felt as though she could break down right then and there.
“Shush, Rose.” He silenced her by placing a finger on her curved lips. His eyes grew wider as he took in her beautiful face, her curls, everything about her. Placing his right arm around her back, he took her right hand in his and slowly began to move his feet. “Do you remember, Rose?” he asked breathlessly. “Do you remember the first time we danced?” He felt a small nod of Rose's head as she lifted her face to him.
“Always, Jack. I'll always remember. The way you held me, how you whirled me around, how you taught me how to be so carefree and joyous.”
In that moment, Jack knew by just looking into Rose's eyes that she returned they feeling he had for her. Pulling her body closer to him, he gently moved her hair from her shoulders and gently kissed her neck. She closed her eyes with pleasure, feeling all of her body tingle. “God, Jack…”
“Rose…we need to talk,” he managed through his deep breaths. He felt as though he could barely control himself tonight . Rose nodded in agreement. They had to talk. Before anything else happened that night, they had to talk and be straight with each other.
After Rose had tucked her children in bed, Jack laid Lilly on Lizzy's bed. Quietly, they both retired to Rose's suite. Inside was a king-sized bed, a large dressing table, and three wardrobes. A desk and three chairs were situated in the center of the room. Rose seated herself on the middle chair. Reaching into his pocket, Jack found his cigarettes and offered one to Rose. Surprisingly, she took one. It had been years since Rose had smoked. It had always been considered wrong for women to smoke, up until the war, when smoking had become more of a social habit for women. Jack lit his, before offering his matches to Rose. Puffing away on his cigarette, he took in the opulence of her suite before taking a seat beside Rose, flicking his ashes into the ashtray in the center of the dark oak table.
“I don't know what to say, Jack,” Rose admitted, bowing her head.
“Just tell me everything, Rose…” Jack hesitated for a moment before asking his question. “Do you want me?”
Her head raised and she looked him in the eye. “Yes, I do. More than anything.” Tears fell from Rose's eyes and she took one last puff of her half-smoked cigarette before stubbing it out. She stood before walking absentmindedly around the room. “I do want you, Jack.” She couldn't lie anymore.
Putting out his cigarette, Jack came to her, placing his hands on her shoulders. Her arms were crossed, her eyes welling with tears. “Then I'm yours, Rose.”
“What?”
“You heard me, Rose. All I've ever wanted is you. All my life I've loved you, and I love you still. I never stopped wanting you and loving you.”
“But you were married, Jack.”
“Yes, I was. Amelia was special to me. She was the mother of my child and nothing will ever change that. But I think it’s about time we stopped running from each other, when we both know we're meant to be. It’s time we made it count.”
Breaking down, Rose could no longer contain herself. Every little feeling she had kept bottled up for the last fourteen years was spilling out of her. “I love you so much, Jack, after all I ever did to you, when I kept running from you, when you were all I wanted.”
“Running from me? Rose, but why?” Jack was puzzled, when all the years she had known how he felt about her.
“Because, Jack…” Rose paused. Was she going to tell him now? That he was Charlie and Olivia's father? It was a time they had to be honest with each other, and she saw his face, his eyes pleading with her to tell him whatever she was about to. But she couldn't…words completely failed her.
“Because I had to.”
Jack took her hands in his and shook her shoulders slightly. “Why, Rose? Why did you have to?”
Rose closed her eyes, tearing escaping down her cheeks. She could feel his fingers on her shoulders and her waist. “Because…”
“Because what, Rose?” he urged.
“Because…there is so much you don't know, Jack. So much you may never know.”
“Then tell me, Rose.”
She wanted to tell him so much. She only had to speak the words, but as soon as she spoke them, then he would run out of her life. She was sure of it. Shaking herself free from him, she wandered towards the bed, sitting on the edge. She felt sharp pains in her chest, and she winced. “It’s not that simple.”
“Why isn't it, Rose? We love each other. We want each other. Darling, you can tell me anything in the world.”
“Jack, if I told you, you would run out of that door right now and never return.” Rose pointed to the door as she spoke.
Jack came to her and knelt in front of her, taking her right hand in his and kissing it gently. “Try me,” he spoke, his voice almost a whisper.
His eyes glanced up at hers, ready for her words. “I can't, Jack.”
Rose started for the door, feeling suffocated in the room, but Jack stopped her, whirling her body around to face him. She broke down once again, and he brought her body close to him in an attempt to comfort her. “Rose, tell me, darling. I love you. Nothing will ever change that.” She knew he meant his words from the look in his eyes. His expression was serious, but there was so much that was complicated. They had children and Rose had a career now. Where would they live? They couldn't travel because the children were in school. It was all such a mess.
Pulling away from Jack, she gazed heavily into his eyes. “Jack, please. No. Let’s not spoil tonight. I love you, and having you here means the world to me. Please, let’s not ruin tonight with something that is in the past now.”