A LOVE FOR ETERNITY
Chapter Nine

Kiss From A Rose

"Can you believe what just happened?" Rose asked her husband, who only shook his head. Unbelievable. He had never imagined that his drawings would be exposed in New York, the Big Apple. "Didn’t I always tell you that your drawings were just great? And did you believe me? No."

He smiled. Okay, he admitted, Rose had been right all the way. As always.

Slowly, they made their way back to their house to get their suitcases before they had to get to the train. The pier and the beach were still full of people. Laughing, playing–just having fun. They would miss this, but they planned to come back next summer.

Rose walked through their house one last time so that she could remember each detail. She didn’t want to forget a thing about their place. Nothing.

The large living room and attached kitchen. Their bedroom at the right end of the corridor, with the huge bed and the windows that overlooked the ocean, just as the ones in the living room did. Two soft couches faced each other. A small table with flowers on it was in the middle. The bathroom was on the opposite site of the corridor, like the guestroom. The walls in each room where white, as was the furniture.

When they were inside, they got the feeling they were in a different world. There, on a shelf, was a vase with red roses. On another stood a framed drawing. The back porch overlooked the ocean. The beach was directly in front of it. The house was just peaceful. They could see it even from outside. The white framed windows, white walls, and red roof. When it was quiet, they could hear the waves. The house looked to the west and each evening they had watched the sunset together. It was a fairytale house.

Rose sighed before she closed the front door behind them. The cab was waiting for them on the street. With a satisfying click, the door was locked, and the house began to wait for their next visit, which would surely come. The sun was still shining brightly, but in the distance they could see clouds coming over the mountains. It would soon be raining.

She got into the car, and Jack followed. The driver asked where they were going, and a few moments later they were off. Rose turned around in her seat to look at their house one last time.

"You’ll miss it, won’t you?" Jack asked softly.

She turned around again, nodded, and said sadly, "Yeah, I will."

*****

It was raining heavily. Lighting flashed across the sky, and the thunder followed only moments later. But Jack and Rose were safely inside an office. It was a huge office. A round table was standing in the middle, and the walls were lined with bookshelves, except for one. It was only a large window, showing the gray New York sky. Mark Evans was sitting on the other side of the table, along with his two companions, James—or, as he liked to be called Jim—Potter and Alain Baxter.

Jim was Mark’s cousin, and so he looked similar to him. Only his eyes were different. They weren’t completely black, but more brown. He was rather lanky, and was wearing glasses, which he kept cleaning every few minutes as if he was nervous—which he probably was.

Alain wasn’t as tall as the others. He had short, brown hair, and although he was still rather young, there were already gray streaks in it. His soft, gray eyes were looking at Jack and Rose, while his hands were always playing with his pen.

A few of Jack’s drawings were lying on the table, and the three men were looking at them closely. Mark and Jim seemed to like them a lot, but Alain was still hesitating. They were whispering to each other, but Jack and Rose couldn’t understand everything they were saying. Only parts reached their ears–which only made them more nervous, since they couldn’t hear if they said good or bad things.

"…but look at this part–just great…do you think?" Mark was saying.

"Absolutely," Jim said, and took another picture. "And here…"

Alain hadn’t said anything at all. He was just sitting there, and looked at each picture as if it didn’t interest him at all. It continued for a while like this, and finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Jim spoke to Jack and Rose.

"Mr. and Mrs. Dawson, we are pleased to inform you that our next exposition will contain a good number of your drawings. The opening is on October first and we would like you to draw more before then to give the customer a larger variety to choose from," he said, sounding very businesslike.

Half an hour later, all the drawings had been packed into Jack’s portfolio, and the office was empty again. Five people were now sitting in a restaurant, celebrating.

"Well, Jack, I suppose we can expect great things from you. From what I’ve seen today, you have great talent, and I do hope our work together will be a success," Alain said, and raised his glass as if he had just made a toast.

Jack was smiling. It was the first time his work had been accepted by a gallery. He couldn’t wait for October, but before then, he and his wife would have to look for an apartment in New York.

That proved to be more difficult than he expected. Although Jack got his first check only a week after the first meeting at the gallery—and it really quite a bit of money he got—it was difficult to find a suitable apartment.

Right now, the couple was looking at another, and both seemed to like it. The apartment was in Manhattan on the seventh floor of a house with six rooms. They were standing in the middle of the empty living room. The dark, polished floor reflected the light, and gave the whole thing a nice look. The kitchen was the next door, and there was a master bedroom, two smaller bedrooms, a bathroom, and another empty room that Jack would use to draw if they took the apartment. And it seemed as if they would.

"Well, I think that will be it, won’t it?" Jack turned a round to see if Rose agreed–and she nodded.

A little later, the contract was signed, and the apartment was theirs.

October 1, 1912

The gallery was full of people. Every one of their friends and family were there. They had already spotted Molly, Ruth, Jim, Anne, Joanna, and almost everyone else from Chippewa Falls. There were, of course, Mark Evans, James Potter and his beautiful wife, Lily, and Alain Baxter with his girlfriend, Penelope. And there were people none of them had seen before. There had been an article in the newspaper, and Jack supposed they had come to see if he was as good as the newspaper had claimed.

"Sir. Excuse me, sir," a man behind Jack said. "Are you the artist of these fascinating pictures?" he asked, and pointed at a row of images Jack had done. He nodded. "Are they to be sold?" the man wanted to know next. "You know, I’ve looked for such images for a long time. I’ll give you a thousand for each of them."

Jack quickly did the math in his head. Eleven pictures–a thousand for each; that made eleven thousand dollars! Of course, he wanted to accept, but…

"I’ll have to talk to my wife about that. If you would like to come along…" Jack said, and his eyes began searching for Rose. He spotted her. She was standing on the other side of the room, laughing with her friends Anne and Joanna. Her long, red dress was flowing down to the floor, and a few strands of hair kept falling into her face. Her deep red lips sipped at a glass of champagne she was holding in her hand. He walked over to her–the man followed.

"Hello, Jack. Haven’t seen you in a while now. How are you?" Anne asked.

"Ah…thanks. I’m fine. Rose, this gentleman here has made me an offer, and I wanted to ask if you agreed with me to take it." And then he took her to the side and said quietly, so that no one could hear it, "He offered me eleven thousand dollars! Can you believe this?"

Rose stared at him, wide-eyed. When she found her voice again, she said, "Of course we’ll accept. What else should we do?"

They turned to the man, who was waiting patiently for them. "All right, sir. We have agreed to take your gracious offer."

The man smiled at him and shook Jack’s hand.

After that, the party continued for many more hours. The man, who later introduced himself as Mr. Paddington, and his friends had bought even more drawings. So, when the last guests left at two in the morning, and only Jack, Rose, Jim Potter, Lily, and Mark were left, Jack and Rose had earned twenty thousand dollars.

"It sounds like you’ll find your success here in the Big Apple. Will you stay here all year, or will you sometimes go back to Wisconsin?" Mark asked.

"We don’t know for sure yet. But we’ll probably be in Chippewa Falls over Christmas, and then be here until at least summer," Jack answered, and took another sip of champagne.

Rose looked around. Many spots on the wall were blank. That was where the sold drawings had previously hung. They were sitting on two couches in a corner of the gallery. Jack and Rose on one, James, Lily, and Mark on the other. James opposite Rose.

Maybe it was because she had already drunk a little more than usual, or maybe it was because she was already sleepy, but suddenly she noticed that James was indeed rather handsome.

*****

The next time went by rather quickly, and soon it was Christmas. They would go to Chippewa Falls on the twenty-second and celebrate with Jim, Anne, Joanna, Ruth, and Molly, who would both come up from Denver.

Rose was just packing her suitcase, and Jack was in the other room, finishing his last drawing for the gallery. Business was now booming. Each day, more and more drawings were sold, and even someone from Europe had offered to expose Jack’s work in his gallery in Vienna.

"Darling, are you finished? We have to meet Jim and Mark in half an hour!" Rose called through their apartment.

"I’m coming!" came the reply from the next room. She sighed. Since October, her husband had only been drawing all day. Although he mostly worked in their apartment and not in his office at the gallery, they didn’t have a lot of time for each other anymore. But they would work together sometimes. He still liked to draw his favorite subject—Rose.

And the pictures of Rose were those which were sold fastest. It seemed that everyone wanted to have them.

She hadn’t heard Jack come in from his room, so she was caught by surprise as he suddenly wrapped his arms around her waist. His touch was still so soft, so gentle.

"Do you realize that this is our first Christmas together?" she asked.

"Mmm," was the only reply, and she felt his lips on her neck.

"You know we can’t do this now. We have to go. Jim and Mark won’t wait forever," she started to argue, but then she knew that it wouldn’t help. They would have to wait a little while.

*****

The train pulled into the station, and the five people on the platform drew a breath of relief. It was icy cold on the platform. The wind was blowing snow into their faces, and their scarves and gloves didn’t help much against the power of winter.

At the end of the train, two people got off. A man and a woman–Jack and Rose. Ruth ran forward to greet them. She and Molly had arrived two days before, and had stayed in Anne and Jim’s house since.

Rose returned her mother’s warm hug.

"It’s so good to see you again. I’ve missed you so much," Ruth mumbled, possibly afraid to say those things aloud.

"It’s great to see you, too," Rose answered.

By that time, Anne, Jim, and Joanna had also reached the end of the train, and now everyone was hugging and kissing everyone else and saying how much they had missed each other, although they hadn’t even been apart for three months.

When they had finally made it to Jim and Anne’s house, they were still talking. Christmas feeling was among them.

It was Jack and Rose’s first Christmas together. It should have been a reason to celebrate. Celebrate the new life they had together. But on Christmas Eve, someone was on Rose’s mind. Someone she didn’t expect to be there. Someone named James Potter.

Chapter Ten
Stories