ANOTHER PROMISE KEPT
Chapter Six

When I got home, I had already decided that I was going to change doctors. Jonathan Calvert was just too good-looking and my hormones were out of control. Who knew what they would make me do?

I had taken more time than usual to go back, so I guessed that everybody would be back by now. But instead of going straight to the parlor, where they would probably be, I went to my room. Somehow, I felt unable to face them.

When I went downstairs, a bit more calm now, I heard some voices coming from the room. For reasons I still don’t understand, instead of opening the door, I stood there, listening to the conversation.

"This is a very nice house," I heard someone–a man–saying. Since he had an Italian accent, I guessed that he was the man Helen had been talking about.

"Oh, thank you," Helen replied. I could hear from her voice that she was inexplicably shy right now, which confirmed my theory--Helen felt something for this man.

There was a very long pause. I wandered if the artist was there or if it was just Helen and her new, special friend. If it was the former, I thought I should enter the room and talk to the artist–since Helen seemed to be absorbed by his friend; if it was the latter, I’d better leave them alone. But before I could decide what path to take, the Italian spoke again.

"So…how many people?"

"People? Oh! The painting, sure. Let’s see…we are four…and then there’s Rose, and the baby. Of course, the baby. We were hoping that you could paint the baby, though he or she hasn’t been born yet. Perhaps you could imagine him or her looking at its mother."

"Sure," a different voice replied. That voice made my heart ache, and I didn’t know why. It sounded so familiar…all I knew was that I now felt sad and that I wanted to cry for no apparent reason.

"Hormones," I muttered as I cleaned my eyes.

Just then, I heard some more voices and I knew at once that Larry and J.J. were back from the office. They had probably entered from the other door in the room.

"Hi, Helen. Who’s your friend?" Larry asked.

"Larry, Dad, this is the artist that I’ve talked about, and this is his friend."

"Oh. Pleased to meet you. Helen tells me that she has never seen a better artist than you. I’m J.J. Brown, but please, call me J.J."

"I’m Fabrizio di Rossi," the Italian said.

"And I’m Jack Dawson."

I froze. I literally froze. I heard the voices from inside the room, but I didn’t care. I wanted to open the door, but I couldn’t! It was so frustrating!

I must have stayed like that for a couple of minutes, but it felt like hours to me. Tears ran down my cheeks, but I didn’t even bother to wash them away. All I wanted was for someone to open the door and find me there.

And then Molly arrived.

"Rose, honey, what are you doing there? Are you all right? You’re crying!" she told me as she walked towards me.

"Jack," I managed to whisper.

"You miss Jack? Oh, honey, I know. But…"

"No, Molly, you don’t understand. Jack’s in there!"

My friend looked at me, not quite understanding. After all, who would have thought that Jack would ever be a door away from us? When my words sank in, she exclaimed, "Wait, wait, wait. Who is where?"

The people inside the room must have heard her, because a couple of seconds later, Larry opened the door. As I was standing by the wall, gasping for air, they didn’t see me.

"Mother, don’t you know it’s bad to overhear conversations?" Molly’s son asked playfully.

"Molly?" Jack asked. I could sense the hope that he had put into that phrase. I immediately knew that he had been looking for my friend and that he was happy to find her.

"Jesus, Mary, and Joseph! So, it is you! Jack Dawson, you owe us a big explanation!"

"So this Jack Dawson is the Jack Dawson?" Helen asked.

"Molly, I will, I will tell you everything that you want to know, but you have to tell me something first. Please, I beg you--did you keep your promise?"

I imagined that Molly was giving him the sympathetic look she always gave people when she wanted to create a certain mood. I hated that look, and I guessed that Jack was hating it right now, too. Well, it was my duty to spare him all that pain.

"She did," I said as I stepped into the room.

Jack raised his eyes to look at me–those beautiful blue eyes.

"Rose," he replied, smiling. I smiled back.

I would’ve jumped into his arms, but the moment I intended to do so, I felt a sharp pain in my stomach. This wasn’t like any pain that I had known before. I grabbed the doorframe for support, and in no time, I found Jack’s arms around my waist.

"Are you all right?" he asked me as he helped me sit in a chair.

"Sure," I answered, catching my breath. "If by all right you mean pregnant with a baby that, up until half an hour ago, didn’t have a father, then yes, I’m all right." Again, the hormones speaking.

"Pregnant?" he asked. "Are you…are you sure?"

"No. It’s just that I was really hungry today," I said angrily. Jack looked down, ashamed.

"I think that Rose might be in labor right now. We have to get her to the hospital," Molly ordered.

Chapter Seven
Stories