ALL THE WAY
Chapter Twenty-Two

Later that night, Jack ascended the stairs quietly, exhausted both mentally and physically from the day. He still could not believe what had happened, and yet it was all very real. Ruth was here, in their house. She knew of their continued existence, and there was no turning back now.

The weirdest part had been telling the children. They had been taught all their lives that their grandparents were all dead. It had been hard trying to come up with a reason for Ruth's absence. Neither Rose nor Jack was about to reveal why she had been truly gone. Not right now, at least. They had introduced Ruth plainly enough at dinner, as simply a friend. Then, once the dishes had been cleared away, the longer explanation came about. Rose had cleared her throat several times before saying softy that this was Ruth DeWitt Bukater, their maternal grandmother. The excuse she finally came up with was that Ruth had been living somewhere and neither Jack nor herself had known where it was. Ruth had seemed a little annoyed by that, probably because it sort of made her out to be the bad guy, but she settled with it and tried to welcome the children. Danielle and Luke believed the explanation and were excited and overjoyed with the idea of finally having a grandmother. Michael and Jillian, although outwardly acting like their siblings, were more reserved. Jack knew them well enough to tell when they were holding back, and now was such a time. They probably didn't believe totally what their mother said, but went along with it just because.

Now it had been decided that Ruth would stay at their house for the remainder of her trip. Nothing farther then that had been determined. She had called over to her friend's house and gave them a watered-down version of what had happened. They had been disappointed in the fact that she was leaving them, but were happy of the fact that she had found her family. Ruth was going by the next morning to gather her things. Right now she was borrowing a nightgown from Rose.

There was so much to talk about, but hardly any of it had been addressed. Soon after dinner, the children had been sent off to bed before Rose herself retired. Jack had stayed up for a longer while, cleaning up and mentally preparing himself for what lay ahead. He hadn't seen Ruth since she had gone down to bed, which allowed his mind to settle a little after being so shaken up.

After what seemed like forever, he reached the top of the stairs. Quietly, as he made his way down the hall, he glanced into each of the children's rooms. Luke and Danielle were out already, snoring away. But Michael was awake, and to Jack's shock, Jillian was in there with him. They had been whispering, but stopped as soon as he came into the room.

Jack cleared his throat. "To bed, Jillian," he commanded softly.

She sighed and then slithered off Michael's bed, waving good night to him as she passed by Jack and out the door. She went across the hall and into her room, where she turned on the light. "Good night, Daddy," she said, before closing the door.

Jack looked at Michael, who just shrugged, offering no explanation. He pulled back the covers of his bed and then slid underneath as he mumbled good night. Jack returned the phrase and then left, turning out the light as he went. He tiredly stumbled to his bedroom and then pushed open the closed door. He walked in and towards the bathroom, almost stumbling over Rose in the process. She was lying on the floor, knees bent and her feet resting against the wall. Her head was propped up on a pillow, and she had a book in her hand.

"Hey, Rose," he said, somewhat confused, as he continued to stare down at her.

Rose lowered the book and then smiled up at him. "Hello," she answered back, before bringing the book back in front of her face.

"Ah...what are you doing?" Jack asked. He then got down on the floor next to her and propped his feet up in the same manner. "Is this the new way to lie down or something?"

Rose lowered her book to her chest once again and then slowly turned her head to face Jack. She smiled at him before she started to laugh. "No, my ankles and legs were a little swollen from being on my feet all day; this sometimes helps."

Jack chuckled along with her. "Okay. I guess I've just never seen that before." He smiled at her for a moment. "How are you holding up?"

She cleared her throat and gave him a weak smile. "Fine, I guess." She sighed and brought her hands up to her head. "I'm just so tired. I don't even know what to think right now."

Jack just nodded; he didn't know what to say. Luckily, Rose continued to talk before it got too awkward. "One part of me is just still so angry at her that I just want to march down there and tell her to get the hell out. But then, another part of me, my God damned heart, keeps reminding me of how she's changed and how she's still my mother. I think that I still love her, despite everything she did to me." She shook her head, in an attempt to clear her mind. "Do you think that's crazy? I'm listening to my heart, and I don't know if I should be or not."

"I'm glad you are," Jack said softy. "You want to know why? Because you're heart has been right before. I'd be either a very lonely, or a very dead man if you hadn't listened to it eighteen years ago." He reached over and took her hand in his own. "I have a feeling it's going to turn out all right."

"You're okay with her here? And in our lives now?"

Jack nodded. "Yes, of course I am. It's going to be hard to get used to at first, but you know what?" He placed his head against hers. "We've gotten through a lot worse."

Rose had to smile at that. "I know. You're right. You're always right." She gave him a sly look with her eyes. "I hate that."

Jack burst out laughing as he sat up before he reached behind and helped her up. "You know you love me," he teased as they stood up.

She grinned at him. "A little too much, I'm afraid." She chuckled and let him draw her into his arms, as close as she could get anyway with her stomach the way it was. Leaning against his chest, she sighed softly. "Do you think we'll ever have a normal life?" she asked as she played with his shirt buttons.

He kissed the top of her head. "Oh, Rose, I hope not," he mumbled softly into her hair.

*****

Much later, Jack lay awake in bed. It was 1:30 in the morning, and he hadn't slept at all yet. Not long after their talk, he and Rose had slipped off to bed, wanting to get a good night’s rest before they had to deal with tomorrow. She had fallen asleep quickly, and was still out. Jack, on the other hand, was having a bit of trouble. He was as tired as could be, but for some reason his mind kept wandering. He would start to think of all sorts of different things, and then he would end up staring at the ceiling for a brief period of time. Most of it was pointless, too, like what he would have for breakfast tomorrow. Once he had actually gone off for about thirty minutes, thinking about names for the new baby. That wasn't pointless, of course, but he still shouldn't be thinking of it at midnight.

He groaned in frustration and rolled over onto his side so that he was facing Rose. She was just lying there, on her side as well, one hand upon her stomach and the other tucked under her head. She was breathing softly, and every few minutes she would make a sound like a quiet moan. Every time she did that it made him smile. She was so beautiful, even in her sleep. He actually missed her, even though she was only ten inches away and her foot was touching his. He wished she were awake so that she could talk to him. At least he wouldn't be bored that way.

Finally, after closing his eyes and once again wasting half an hour on trying to sleep, Jack threw back the covers and sat up. Rose made a sound, and he looked back to see if she was awake. She had done nothing but roll over, however, and Jack sighed. He wasn't intentionally trying to wake her up. But if she was roused from her slumber because of his leaving, that wasn't his fault.

Slowly, he got up, threw his bathrobe on over his body, and stumbled out of his room. The grandfather clock in the parlor chimed two as he tiredly made his way downstairs and into the kitchen. Flipping on the light, he walked in and got the milk out of the refrigerator. He poured some into a pot and then set it on the stove to heat up. While he was waiting he leaned against the counter and mindlessly read some of the things that were lying around--bills, letters from friends, more bills, a couple of notes home from school regarding Michael's behavior.

"Couldn't sleep, either?"

Jack spun around at the sound of the other voice and was surprised to see Ruth standing in the family room. She was holding a photo album as she came over to where he was. As she got closer, Jack saw that she looked tired, too. He wondered how long she had been down here.

"Yeah. I don't know why, either," he mumbled to her as she set the photo album down on the counter. "Why are you up?"

Ruth shrugged. "Oh, I just couldn't sleep. My mind was wandering. So, I just decided to get up and sit up here for a while. You have such a lovely home, Jack; beautiful view, gorgeous woodwork. I just love it."

He cleared his throat. "Thanks," he said, before turning back to the milk. It still wasn't warm enough, so he turned up the heat. "I see you found one of Rose's photo albums," he said quietly, without looking at her.

"Yes. I found several, actually. It's amazing how many photographs she has taken over the years. I've already looked at four or five and I'm still in about 1917 or 1918, I believe."

Jack turned to her now and smiled. "Yeah, Rose likes her pictures." He reached over and picked up the book gently, making sure that none of the contents fell out. "Let me see here," he mumbled as he opened it up. Sure enough, it started in early 1917. There were a couple of pages of cute little family things, then Michel's birthday, followed by anniversaries, and gatherings with their friends. So many black and white memories immortalized in tiny shots. Some of them he remembered clearly, but some had unfortunately faded away. Before long, however, he came across pictures that he hoped would dissolve. One single photograph sat on a lone page, dried rose petals surrounding it.

"That's me in my uniform," he spoke up softy to Ruth, who had been looking over his shoulder. "Rose took that the day I left for the war." He shook his head softy as he remembered that day. "She told me later that she was so mad at me for going. I can't blame her, though. After what we went through, she didn't need any more potential heartache." He looked down at the picture as thousands of memories came back to him.

Ruth didn't say anything for a couple of minutes. It was a hard statement to respond back to. Especially since what she wanted to say to him didn't have a thing to do with the war. For years she had wanted to apologize to this man, to tell him how guilty she felt afterward. But now she was having a hard time bringing the subject up, much less finding the appropriate words to say.

Finally, she just looked away and came out with it. "I'm sorry, Jack."

"For what?" he asked hoarsely. He looked at her and saw that she was inwardly struggling with something.

She turned toward him and began by shaking her head. "For a lot of things, but above all because of my behavior. I had no right to treat anyone like that, especially you, Jack. You were nothing but nice to me from the first moment I met you, and what did I do? I was rude, inconsiderate...I hated you so much. I hated you because you gave Rose something that I couldn't, not at that time. It drove me crazy for so long." Just then Jack broke in and tried to say something, but Ruth held up her hand. She wasn't finished. "And then I got over it. I felt so guilty for everything; I kept telling myself that it was my attitude that killed the both of you. But now…" She began to get choked up and had to stop. Jack moved over and put his arm around her shoulder. "But now," she struggled on, "I see you with her, and you two are so happy. And you have this wonderful house, great jobs, and the most beautiful, sweet, funny, children I have ever met in my life. I just…I can’t help but feel better. Because I know now that I didn't ruin it."

She started to cry after that, and Jack felt his heart go out to her. He knew that she was genuinely sorry now; no one could give that type of an apology and not have it be true. Not even Ruth, the former ice-queen of the world, was that great of an actress.

"Ruth, it's okay," he said softly, trying to comfort her. "We're here, we made it through. None of it was your fault. We're doing okay now. " He tried his best to think of anything that might be of some reassurance to her, but she just kept crying. Usually, if it were Rose, he would just hold her close and let her have her crying time. Or if it were one of the children, he would try to get them to talk about it. But this was different than trying to comfort his wife or getting his children to talk to him. He didn't know how to respond to Ruth.

"Rose still loves you, you know."

That was the comment that did it. Ruth immediately stopped sobbing and looked back up at Jack. "What are you talking about?" she asked, amidst wiping tears from her face. "I've seen her eyes when she's talking to me. I can tell she just wants to run."

Jack shook his head. "I know, but I talked to her, and she's soft on the inside, I can tell." He sighed and looked at Ruth, who still had tears running down her cheeks. "I've lived with her for eighteen years. I know when she is keeping things from me. She still loves you; it's just going to take her a while to really admit it. Give her time."

Ruth blinked a couple of times, absorbing what Jack had just said to her. It made some sense. But she wasn't so sure she should believe Jack.

"Trust me, Ruth," he said, before she could speak again. Ruth was shocked; it was if he could tell what she was thinking. "She just needs time."

Against her better judgment, Ruth sighed, and then nodded her head. "All right. I'll give her a little bit."

Jack smiled. "Good, and don't worry. I know her probably better than anyone else; sometimes it just takes time with her." He went back to his business then, pouring the milk he had heated into a mug.

"And you would know about that so well. Hmm, Jack?" Ruth couldn't resist teasing him. He certainly hadn't known Rose to hold back. Their relationship had happened so quickly that she was sure even Rose had been shocked about the fast pace.

Jack turned to look at her as he was setting the dirty pot into the sink. He was blushing as he mumbled a quick phrase that sounded like "Yeah…well..."

Ruth laughed softly and shook her head. "I'm going to bed, Jack."

"All right." He nodded to her. "I'll see you in the morning."

Ruth waved and then disappeared down the stairs. Jack listened until he heard her footsteps fade away and then he saw the light go out. He blinked a couple of times and took a few sips of his cooling milk before it occurred to him that he should be getting up to bed.

After shutting everything off in the kitchen, he made his way back up the stairs and into his bedroom. Rose was still asleep, but she had somehow managed to sprawl out across the bed, taking up a good portion of the room. Without turning on the lamp, Jack set his mug down on the nightstand and then gently pushed Rose over to her side of the bed. Again, she stirred but did not awaken. He slid under the covers, took one last sip of the milk, and then settled down. With the burden of Ruth lessened in his mind, he fell asleep quickly, finally able to put his mind to rest.

Chapter Twenty-Three
Stories