BACK WITH YOU
Chapter Seventeen
A week passed by, and slowly things fell into
a sort of routine. Jack moved all of his things from his apartment and into
Rose’s house, and together they began to really make a home. Jessamyn began to
get used to having him around, and vice versa. It was odd at first, having a
man around. But she was surprised at how well she got along with him and how
easy it became to accept him as her father. She began to call him Dad towards
the end of the week, a title that surprised and humbled Jack. He still wasn’t
used to it, and sometimes she would have to call him it a few times before he
would respond. Rose found all of this quite comical and couldn’t help but start
laughing every time Jack was called that because of the bright smile he had on
his face.
Now, Jessamyn sat at her desk with a piece of
paper laid out in front of her and a pen in her hands. It was early, but that
was because she was determined to get this letter done and in the mail today.
She had a good idea of what she wanted to say, only she couldn’t think of how
to start it. How did one begin a letter to your adoptive parents?
She chewed on the end of the pen and tried to
think as she looked out the window. The ocean rolled as it always did and the
faint sound of the waves crashing on shore could be heard. Sighing, Jessamyn
took the pen out of her mouth and looked back down at the paper.
Dear Elizabeth and James, she scribbled down, and then stopped. Was that too
generic? She felt really guilty and horrible for not addressing them as Mom and
Dad, but she knew in her heart of hearts that they would understand. Rose and
Jack were her parents. She shrugged, took a deep breath, and continued on. I
regret that I have not written you sooner, but I have been busy. Many things
have happened to me since I arrived in Santa Monica. The letter went on to
explain how and when she had found Rose, and then the surprise of finding her
father as well. She also wrote that there had been a great tragedy and ironic
series of events surrounding her parents, but did not elaborate on what these
were. She’d already told Charlie about the Titanic when she wasn’t
supposed to. There was no reason to tell anyone else. That part of the letter
came relatively easy, but then she was stuck. She wanted to tell them she was
staying, but there was no easy way to do that.
I know you have been wondering whether or
not I will be coming back to Maine or not. And honestly, I can’t say that I
will. I miss Rockland, but I like it here in California, and I am having a
wonderful time getting to know Jack and Rose. So I’m planning on enrolling in
college down here in the fall and staying through school. Who knows? Maybe I’ll
be back after that.
There is one thing I want to say, though.
I want to thank you for everything you have done for me. You loved me enough to
take care of me all those years, even though I am not your biological daughter.
You had a heart big enough to adopt a child you had never even seen. You gave
me life. And without you I don’t know if I would be where I am today. I love
you as much as any child loves their parents. You’ve been a wonderful example
of love to me. Thank you.
Don’t be shy to write. I’d like to know
what’s going on up there. Tell everyone hello for me and tell them I miss them
a lot. I miss you two as well.
Much love,
Jessamyn
P.S. If any of my stuff is still lying
around, can you send it my way? I’ll reimburse you for any charges.
Jessamyn breathed a sigh of relief and threw
her pen down on the desk. She had finally done it! Happily, she reached over and
pulled open one of the desk drawers. It took her a minute, but she eventually
found an envelope and stuck the letter in there. Then she licked the edge and
folded it down. Lastly, with careful penmanship, she addressed it to James and
Elizabeth Calvert in Rockland, Maine.
Standing up and stretching, Jessamyn looked
with pride at the little white envelope. She felt like a great burden had
finally been lifted from her chest. Now she could relax, finally! The dreaded
letter was finished. But now she was worried about the reply. She hoped they
would take it well enough, without any retribution thrown her way.
She sighed, tightened her bathrobe tie, and
then grabbed the letter. She was going to put it in the mailbox before she
forgot and had to wait until Monday to send it. Then maybe she would make her
parents breakfast.
Jessamyn had just opened the door to her room
when she saw Jack pass by. It was only seven. She didn’t expect to see him or
Rose until later because they usually slept in these days. Rose had
conveniently changed her hours back until nine in the morning and then hired
Jack to help in the store until he found a more permanent job. Jessamyn stopped
by once in a while when they were at work, but she preferred not to. Getting
out of the house was an escape from all the kissing and the lovey-talk. She
didn’t need to see or hear it outside of the house as well. She was pretty sure
that they would keel over from withdrawal if they had to be apart for more than
an hour.
So when Rose didn’t follow Jack down the
hall, Jessamyn was surprised. Instead, she followed her father into the kitchen
and snuck up behind him. When she tapped his shoulder, he jumped and spun
around.
"Jeez, Jess. You’re going to give me a
heart attack!" he exclaimed in a whisper, putting his hand over his chest.
Jessamyn smiled at him. "Sorry,"
she whispered back. "What are you doing up so early?"
Jack grabbed his key off the counter, threw
it up in the air, and then caught it. "I’m going to go down to the train
station to see when my stuff from New York is going to be here," he said.
He had arranged for his old landlady to box it up and ship it to California. He
had no desire to go back to New York, but there was some stuff he was desperate
for. The old woman had agreed, but he’d had to pay her a pretty good sum. The
way Jack looked at it, though, it was no more than a train ticket. "Why
are you up so early?"
Jessamyn held up the envelope. "Letter
to Maine," she explained. "I thought I’d get it done first thing this
morning."
"Oh," Jack mused. He’d been told by
Rose to avoid the subject of the Calverts unless Jessamyn brought it up. When
she didn’t say anything else, he shrugged inwardly and gave her a soft smile.
"Where’s Mom?" she asked him,
changing the subject.
Jack yawned. "She’s still asleep,"
he remarked, wishing he could do the same. But if he didn’t get down to the
station early, there were going to be long lines and lots of people. "I’ve
got to run, Jess. I’ll be back in about forty-five minutes."
Jessamyn watched him go and called good-bye
softy. She was still holding the letter, but waited about five minutes before
going outside and putting it in the mailbox. She really was nervous about
becoming too clingy for Jack’s taste. If she followed him out there, he might
be a little annoyed. Then again, she mused as she closed the door of the
mailbox, if he didn’t consider Rose clingy, he wouldn’t consider anyone clingy.
Jessamyn smiled to herself and remembered to grab the paper off the lawn as she
walked back to the house.
When she came back inside, she was surprised
to see Rose sitting at the table. Her mother was rubbing the sleep out of her
eyes and yawning.
"Morning," she said groggily.
Jessamyn returned the greeting and handed her
the paper. "Dad just left," she told her.
Rose nodded. "I know," she replied.
She had woken up when he had slipped out of bed. She’d gotten very used to his
presence next to her every night and there when she woke up, so when he left
and didn’t come back, she hadn’t been able to sleep. It was not a good habit to
be forming, but she couldn’t help it.
Jessamyn gave her a tiny smile and then
looked through all the cabinets. She was really hungry, but didn’t feel like
making anything anymore. Nothing looked good, so she just put some coffee on
and sat down at the table next to Rose. Her mother was reading the paper, and
every so often, she would sigh happily to herself. Jessamyn just watched her
for a while, got her coffee, and then sat back down. She didn’t quite know what
to do with herself now. Charlie was in a meeting all day today, and she didn’t
really feel like seeing any of her other friends.
"When are you and Dad going to get
married?" she finally asked, before taking a sip of coffee.
Rose put the paper down and looked at her.
"Soon, I should hope," was her vague answer. They had already gotten
the marriage license a couple of days ago, but that was as far as they’d
gotten. She smiled, and then the paper was back up again.
"Are you going to get married in a
church? Or just a civil ceremony?"
Again, Rose lowered the paper. "I don’t
know," she answered. "Most likely a civil ceremony. I don’t know who
we’d invite to a church wedding."
Jessamyn nodded in agreement and then got up
from the table. Rose watched her go into the living room with raised eyebrows.
She could see so much of herself in her daughter; that need to ask questions
and seek answers. And then that fire in her eyes that Jack claimed Rose had. It
was kind of weird. She still wasn’t totally used to having her around. She
shrugged and started reading the paper again. But now her mind started to
wonder about this wedding business. She and Jack really hadn’t talked about it
much, other than they wanted to have it as soon as possible. It had only been a
week, but even so, Rose was starting to feel the need to get it done. She
wanted to legally be Rose Dawson. She sighed heavily and put the paper down
once again. To bad Jack wasn’t home.
Getting up, Rose crossed the kitchen and
grabbed herself a cup of Jessamyn’s coffee. It was too early. She was used to
sleeping in until closer to eight, not ten to seven. Oh, well, she
thought. I’ll just go take a hot bath. Rose yelled to Jessamyn where she
would be, grabbed her Good Housekeeping magazine, her coffee, and then shut
herself in the bathroom.
Jack arrived home about a half hour later,
angry because his things were not going to arrive for another week. Jessamyn
smiled at him as he came stomping in and demanded to know where Rose was.
"Bathroom," she answered her
father.
She watched as he stalked off, knocked once,
and then pushed the door right open. She would have started laughing if the
thought of her mother naked and her father walking in didn’t make her so
nauseous. So she just rolled her eyes and picked up a book. Time to focus her
mind on other things.
Rose was shocked to see Jack barge in, and
she turned her head toward him with wide eyes, lowering her magazine and
throwing it on the floor.
"Do you mind?" she asked teasingly,
sinking under the bubbles that had built up from all the bubble mix she had
poured in there.
He sat down on the toilet and looked at her
with stormy eyes. "My damn boxes aren’t going to be here for another
week," he grumbled.
"What do you need them so badly
for?" Rose asked, sitting up and resting her arms and chin on the edge of
the bath. Suds started dripping over the side, so she reached over and grabbed
a towel off the floor, placing it where they were falling.
Jack sighed. "There is just a lot of
stuff I’ve been wanting. My pillow, for one. I’ve wanted it for months. A couple
of sketchbooks, some clothes…a really nice suit. You know, I was going to take
you out to dinner if they were here today, with my suit and everything."
Rose looked him over. "What’s wrong with
the clothes you have on?" she asked after a minute.
"Aw...c’mon, Rose. You don’t wear these
types of things to dinner." He gave her a soft smile. It was true; he was
wearing a pair of jeans and a baggy shirt. They were fine for doing work around
the house or running downtown for a minute. But one didn’t wear them to take
his fiancé out. And the rest of his clothes weren’t much better.
"Then go buy yourself a nice pair of
trousers and a nice button down shirt," Rose suggested. Really, what was
this obsession with clothes all of a sudden?
Jack gave her a look like she was crazy.
"I hate shopping," he said flatly.
"Take Jessamyn with you," she
replied. She had taken her daughter shopping a few times. That girl could find
a bargain better than anyone. And she had great taste. Rose smiled. She must
have inherited it from her mother, she mused comically. "Oh, I
know," she said suddenly. "Take her out to breakfast and then have
her show you where to find such things. She’d probably love that."
Jack had to agree that sounded like a good
plan, but his mind was already jumping to something else he had just thought
of. With Jessamyn’s help, he might just be able to pull off what he was
thinking about doing. It would take careful and precise planning, though.
"You know what?" he asked, suddenly
getting very excited. "That might just work." He got up from his seat
and crossed over to Rose. "I’m going to go. And you know what? Tonight I’m
taking you out to dinner. Just you and I."
Rose smiled at him. "All right,"
she said sweetly.
Jack grinned back and leaned down to give her
a quick kiss. "See ya," he replied, before leaving.
Rose watched him go and sighed happily as she
sank back down underneath the bubbles. Life was shaping up to be pretty good,
she decided, opening her magazine back up again. And it only took thirty-six
years to get that way.
*****
Jessamyn looked nervously at the clock and
then pounded on her mother’s bedroom door. "Are you finished yet?"
she called. At this rate, Rose wouldn’t be ready by the time Jack showed up.
She had managed to make up excuses for his absence all day, but if she had to
make one more, Rose would start to catch on. And then her father’s little plan
wouldn’t work. Jessamyn sighed and pounded on the door again. "Mom!"
"All right! All right!" Rose
finally replied. She opened the door and presented herself to Jessamyn, who
smiled at her mother.
"You look nice," she commented.
Rose smiled and then went back into her room.
Jessamyn took the liberty of following her and sat down on the bed, watching as
her mother selected some earrings and put them on.
"You need a necklace," she reminded
Rose, whose face lit up.
She mumbled a quick "That’s right,"
under her breath.
Rose searched through her jewelry box and
finally found the one she was looking for. Delicately, she pulled out the
silver cross on the tiny chain and fastened it around her neck.
"What do you think?" she asked,
turning toward Jessamyn, who nodded approvingly.
"Perfume," was the only thing she
suggested.
Rose nodded in agreement and picked up a
bottle, splashing some on her wrists, behind her ears, and then just a tad
across her bust line. Jessamyn rolled her eyes and flopped back on the bed so
that she was lying down. Honestly, those two were going to drive her mad.
"Where is your father?" Rose asked
suddenly, sounding very annoyed. "He called and told me to be ready at a
quarter to seven."
Jessamyn groaned; this was what she was
afraid of. She sat up again and sighed. "He’ll be here," she mumbled
vaguely, and then got up from the bed.
"What kind of errands could be taking
him so long?" Rose continued.
The special, secret type, Jessamyn thought, crossing the room to where her
mother was. If she and Jack were going to pull this off, she needed to distract
her mother from the fact that he wasn’t here. "Maybe he’s getting you
flowers or something," Jessamyn suggested.
Rose smiled. "You think so?" she
wondered hopefully, her voice suddenly calm and sweet again.
Oh, crap. That was dumb. Jessamyn immediately mentally kicked herself. Now
Rose would be expecting flowers. She sighed and was about to make up something
else when the doorbell rang. "Oh, thank God," she whispered to herself.
That would be her father.
Rose’s brow furrowed and she started out of
her bedroom. "Who on earth could that be?" she wondered out loud.
Jessamyn grabbed a few things that Rose had forgotten and then followed her,
excited to watch her reaction.
Jack was outside, hands in his pockets,
waiting for Rose to open the door. He hoped that Jessamyn hadn’t let anything
on and that she had gotten Rose ready. They were on sort of a schedule here. If
they weren’t at the restaurant by 7:15, then they wouldn’t be other places when
they needed to be there. He looked down at himself, brushing off a stray fluff.
The suit Jessamyn had helped him pick out was hardly a suit, more like really
nice pants and a really nice shirt with a sports jacket. It was clever, and at
least he didn’t feel like a penguin.
Before he could position himself again, the
door opened and he jerked his head up. Seeing Rose, his breath was immediately
sucked out of his lungs. She looked stunning in her dress, white with a soft,
almost French blue patterned little number that fell just below her knees. The
neckline, too, was scoop cut and fell quite low, with lace trimming it and also
the sleeves. She topped it with her hair pulled half back, light blue
high-heeled shoes, and the right amount of jewelry. She broke into a smile when
she realized it was Jack at the door. This brought him back reality.
"Good evening, madam," he said,
faking a British accent.
Rose started laughing. "Good evening,
darling," she seductively said back. All of her anger and frustration at
his absence was washed away immediately as she stared at him. In short, he
looked fantastic.
"Would a beautiful young woman such as
yourself care to accompany me to dinner?" he asked, still putting on airs.
"Certainly," Rose replied, enjoying
his little game. "Just let me get my purse." She turned around and
was about to go back inside to retrieve it, but was met with Jessamyn, who was
holding the small white handbag.
"Have a good time," her daughter
remarked, smiling as she handed her the purse.
Rose smiled back. "Thank you," she
whispered, kissing her daughter on the cheek. "See you later." And
with that, she turned and went back to Jack.
He held out his arm to her and she took it.
It reminded her very much of the time he had led her to the dinner they had
shared on the Titanic as he guided her to the street corner and to where a cab
was waiting. He held the door open for her and Rose climbed in, giving a sly
and secretive glance as she did so. They both were thinking of the other time
he had held a door open for her. And once he was seated and the cab driver
asked, "Where to?" Rose couldn’t help but start laughing.
Jack, too, was smiling as he gave the man
directions, put the screen up, and then settled in next to Rose, draping his
arm around her shoulders.
"Where are we going?" she asked
him, her face lighting up.
"Just wait and see," Jack whispered
to her, leaning his head close to hers. Gently, he took her left hand and
twisted the ring around and around on her finger. "It looks like it was made
to be here," he commented, somewhat trying to distract her from looking
out the window, but mostly just being completely honest.
Rose leaned her head against his.
"Hmm…maybe," she said languidly, watching him twist it around. She
still got butterflies in her stomach when she looked at it. It was so
beautiful; the perfect engagement ring.
Jack brought her hand up to his lips and
kissed it softly. "It’s nice to have you alone…" he whispered.
"We’re not alone," Rose replied,
smiling as she gestured toward the driver with a nod of her head.
"He doesn’t count," Jack said,
before kissing her on the lips this time.
Rose started laughing again as she pulled
away. "Oh, doesn’t he?"
Jack shook his head. "I mean, like,
Jessamyn or people in the shop…they’re around. This guy doesn’t even know our
names." He paused and looked at her for a minute. "Which means I can
do this without reserve," he whispered, pressing his lips to hers once
again. This time the kiss lasted longer, and once it eventually ended, Rose
sighed.
"I hate it when you do that," she
groaned, pressing her forehead against his.
Jack broke out into a grin. "Why?"
he asked.
"How do you expect me to go into this
restaurant looking normal?" she asked. "You’ve got me all…you
know…now."
Jack started laughing warmly and kissed her
on the cheek. "Good to know I still got it…" he mused, rubbing his
chin.
Rose shook her head and pulled a respectable
distance away, but so she was still in his arms. "Someday that ego of
yours…" she commented, rolling her eyes.
"My ego!" Jack protested, throwing
his hands up. "Don’t presume to tell me what I will and will not do. You
don’t know me!" he said sardonically, his voice freakishly accurate to
hers, although he did manage to make it just a tad more dramatic and wild than
the actual phrase had been.
Again, Rose started shaking her head.
"You’re going to pay for that," she teased, hitting him gently across
the knee. But she smiled at him. They both knew he wouldn’t.
Before long, the cab stopped and the driver
tapped on the screen. Jack pulled it down, paid the man, and then jumped out
before running around to open the door for Rose. She stepped out elegantly, and
her eyes widened as she saw where they were. It was La Mer, a very exquisite,
intimate, not to mention quite expensive, little French restaurant resting
close to the shore, which is how it got its name.
"Oh, Jack," she breathed as he came
up behind her and laid a soft hand on the small of her back. "Oh, darling,
I don’t know. It’s so expensive," she protested weakly. She so badly
wanted to go, but something like this would sharply cut a hole in her budget.
Jack came around to face her and placed a
finger delicately over her lips. "None of that," he whispered.
"I’m taking you out to dinner and this is where I know you want to
go." He knew it was expensive, but Jessamyn had told him that whenever
Rose walked by this place she would look at it wistfully and sigh. Besides, he
had some money saved up from New York. He’d just take some funds out of there.
She smiled at him, her eyes filling with
happy tears. "How’d you know I wanted to come here?" she asked softly
as he started leading her up the front walk.
"A little bird named Jessamyn told
me," he replied, as he held the door open once again and entered after
her.
They were led to a small, intimate, and
private table towards the back of the restaurant with a lovely view of the
ocean below. Once they were situated, the waiter introduced himself, handed
them their menus, and then promised to return in a few minutes before walking
off.
Rose opened up the menu and gushed over the
selections. "Oh, everything looks so good." She sighed. There were
pages of things she remembered eating and loving as a teenager, and it was hard
to just pick one. When Jack didn’t reply, she lowered her menu and watched as
his brow furrowed in frustration.
"I hate French," he finally
concluded, throwing the menu down. What words he had learned in Paris had long
since been forgotten and even if he did remember them, they wouldn’t help him
now. He used to be able to say things like "Do you have any jobs?" or
"Where is the bathroom?" He could not read names of food if his life
depended on it.
Rose started laughing. "Do you want me
to help you?" she asked, unable to resist teasing him once again.
Jack shrugged. "What are you
having?"
She glanced at the menu one more time, made a
quick choice, and then told him.
"Eh…I’ll have the same," he
answered, not really knowing what he was saying the same to. "You better
order for us," he mumbled under his breath as the waiter approached,
holding a little booklet.
Rose nodded in agreement. When the waiter
asked them what they would like, she told him in French and he smiled at her as
he wrote it down. But when he asked what they would like to drink, Jack broke
in and just said, "Bring us your best drinks." He desperately wanted
a bottle of wine, but prohibition was still in effect. Oh, well, enough of that
to look forward to later tonight. The man’s eyebrows shot up at Jack’s request,
but he did not protest, just took their menus and said something about the food
being there shortly.
As the waiter once again left, Rose shot Jack
a look. "You’re crazy," she told him. "Do you know how much they
might charge you for something like that?"
Jack didn’t answer her, just grabbed her hand
across the table and held it softly. "You look wonderful. I don’t know if
I told you," he said after a minute. He meant it, too. The dim lighting
cast soft shadows on her face. And when she smiled at him, like she was doing
now, it added so much to her case.
"You don’t look so bad yourself,"
she replied, squeezing his hand. She watched as he started to blush. "Can
I ask you something?" she asked right away, before he could say anything
else.
"Of course," he answered.
Rose’s expression went soft, and she asked in
a rush, "How many other women have there been?" She’d been dying to
know since their first night together. Just because she was--well, used to
be--inexperienced didn’t mean she didn’t know good lovemaking when she felt it.
There was something mature and sweet about it now that hadn’t been quite there
when they were younger. And it had to do something with Jack’s experience,
right?
Her question caught him off guard and his
eyebrows raised. "You really want to know?" he asked, his mouth
slowly fading into a smile.
Rose groaned inwardly. She knew it! She knew
he’d had lots of different women. A sort of jealousy began to build up inside
of her heart as she felt herself nod slowly.
Jack was still smiling as he placed a soft
kiss on her hand. "None," he answered tenderly.
Now it was Rose who was taken off guard.
"None?" she squeaked, her eyes lighting up. "Really?" Her
voice was so full of emotion that it didn’t even sound like her.
He nodded. "Yeah. You were my
first…you’ll be my last."
Her eyes began to fill up with tears and she
choked back sobs. "So…all those years?" she asked weakly.
"Never," Jack said, shaking his
head. "I couldn’t. Oh God, Rose, I wanted to. I dated…went out to bars,
that sort of thing. I wanted to so badly, so I could make myself forget. But
every time I even got close, I couldn’t go through with it. I eventually
stopped trying." He looked down at the table and sighed.
Rose gently caressed his hand with her thumb.
"I’m the same way," she whispered truthfully. She didn’t even care if
anyone was listening or watching. All she knew was that this man was sitting
here telling her something she had longed to hear.
Jack’s head shot up and his eyes widened.
"Really?" he asked.
"Don’t look so surprised about it,"
Rose warned, seeing his reaction.
This brought a smile to his face, but he
couldn’t say anything more. He looked at her in awe. They had both been willing
to wait for the rest of their days because of what one night had meant to both
of them. It was a level of love not experienced by many. He rose up a little
bit and leaned across the table to really kiss her quickly.
"Why did you want to know?" Jack
asked when they had both regained most of their composure.
Rose blushed to the point that her face was
almost the same color as her hair. "It’s not important," she
answered, looking down.
They talked for a little bit longer until
their food and drinks came, upon which conversation pretty much ceased. Jack
had to admit that Rose had pretty good taste in French cuisine when it turned
out to be one of the best meals he’d ever had. He quickly ate it all up and
then watched as Rose plowed through hers much slower. If there was anything
Jack had learned in the past week, it was that she took forever to eat her
food. It had to be something to do with the way she was brought up, but even
so. It took her a half hour to finish a bowl of soup! Then again, Jack though
as he watched her, he had spent years trying to eat his food before whomever he
had stolen it from caught him.
When she finally finished, she looked up at
him and smiled. "Shall we get dessert?" she asked.
Jack shrugged and topped off her water glass,
which was looking a little dry. "If you want we can," he answered
after looking at his watch. He really wasn’t that hungry, but then again, he
always had room for a piece of cheesecake or something.
Rose sighed before taking a sip of her drink.
"I probably shouldn’t," she groaned.
He smiled at her. "Yeah, you should.
What do you want?" This would waste a little more time, since they had
about an hour before they had to be at their next stop.
"Ice cream," Rose replied
immediately, without even looking at the dessert menu. She had heard from some
acquaintances that the homemade ice cream here was to die for.
Jack started laughing. "Ice cream it
is!" he exclaimed. He decided on the strawberry cheesecake himself and
waved the waiter over. After clearing their dishes, he wrote down their
requests and then scampered away once again.
Rose yawned and leaned her head on one of her
hands, resting her elbow on the table. "What are we going to do about this
wedding?" she asked Jack.
He almost choked on his drink that he had
just taken a sip of. If only she knew…
"Um…I don’t know," he said slowly,
trying to remain innocent looking. His heart began to beat as he watched her
face for some sort of reaction. She gave him a soft smile and tilted her head
some more. But before she could say another word, the waiter appeared with
their desserts.
Once he left, Rose dug into hers. "This
is so good," she gushed, with a big bite in her mouth no less. She
swallowed and then gave Jack a grin.
Oh, sure, she finishes the good stuff fast, he thought, smiling as he watched her. In fact, both
desserts went rather quickly, and then all they were left with was a rather
large check. Jack left Rose to go pay and get some change for a tip. She
watched him walk away with suspicious eyes.
She knew he was up to something. He couldn’t
hide his jumpiness from her. But she couldn’t imagine what. The dinner alone
had been surprise enough. She sighed and turned her head to look outside. Night
had just about fallen and a beautiful sunset was just ending over the water.
Hardly anyone was outside anymore; the beach was quite barren looking. She was
so immersed in the scene that she didn’t even notice Jack come back until she
felt his hand on her shoulder.
"Are you ready to go?" he asked,
trying to hide his nervousness. His stomach suddenly seemed filled to the top
with butterflies. This night had gone well so far, but now there were two
different ways it could go.
Rose smiled at him as she stood and grabbed
her purse off of the table. "Yes," she said softly, linking her arm
through his.
Jack led her out of the restaurant and onto
the front steps. "How about a walk?" he suggested, trying to make it
sound like he had just come up with the plan. She turned her head and gave him
another of her winning smiles.
"Sounds nice," she commented,
resting her body close to his.