BACK WITH YOU
Chapter One
Two Weeks Later
The rickety train speed onward, carrying
Jessamyn ever closer to California. She looked out the window and watched as
the scenery passed by, too fast for her to distinguish what it was. She was
alone, completely lost in thought. Oblivious as to what was going on around
her, she tried to work everything out in her mind. She was so confused, and
couldn't think right.
She was eighteen, five and a half feet tall,
and built like a French woman, stocky and somewhat well-off. Her beauty wasn't
modern, but rather classic, that made people turn and look when she walked by.
Her eyes, a piercing blue, set off her hair, which fell down her back in a
cascade of blondish-red curls. Her clothes, though loose and modest, did
nothing to hide her generous curves. And she could melt you when she smiled.
Closing her eyes, she relived once again what
had happened just two weeks ago, the day that had changed her life for good.
"Jessamyn. Sit down, sweetie. We have
to tell you something."
Her mother's harsh tone shocked her as she
sat down on the couch in her living room, clueless as to what was going on.
Her father sat down across from her,
followed by her mother. They exchanged tense glances and then turned back to
Jessamyn. She waited, somewhat impatiently, as they mustered up the courage to
tell her whatever they wanted to tell her.
Finally, after what seemed like forever,
her mother spoke.
"Honey," she started out, taking
a deep breath after that. "We need to tell you something. Um...you see,
the thing is...Jess, you were adopted..."
Those damn words still echoed in Jessamyn's
mind. She was adopted. All her life she had been lied to. Everything she
thought had been one way was now another. And to make matters much worse,
Jessamyn didn't have a clue beforehand. One minute she had been going along,
thinking she had these great parents, fun siblings, and a great home. And then
bam! They dropped the bombshell on her eighteenth birthday, right after the chocolate
cake and vanilla ice cream had been eaten. Needless to say, everything came
back up again a few minutes after the news was had. And as Jessamyn stood
leaning over the toilet, she knew her life would never be the same.
That was two weeks ago. Since then, her
parents had pulled out papers confirming that she was not in fact their child,
all of her siblings had been told, as well as her friends, and Jessamyn was
left to make a choice. A choice about what to do with her life. She had been
planning to go to college in Boston. But that seemed so pointless now. So, with
a ticket to California, a suitcase, ten bucks in her pocket, and a prayer, she
jumped on the first train she could catch.
Of course, there was a reason she was going
to California. That's where her parents had said her birth mother was planning
on moving to eighteen years go, Santa Monica to be exact. Jessamyn had always
been fascinated with the West, having grown up on the East coast. And she was
eager to find her mother. The chances were remote that she was even still in
Santa Monica, but Jessamyn had to try. And so here she was, hundreds of miles
away from home, chasing a dream.
Bored to tears of looking out at the endless
scenery, she reached into her backpack to find the novel she had been reading.
She hadn't picked it up since before the day, as it was now referred to. But it
might be a good idea to start it again, she thought, to get her mind off of
things. Reading was her passion. She could escape that way.
Jessamyn was searching through her bag when
she saw an envelope. Confused, as she did not remember packing that, she picked
it up and looked intently at it. On the front was her mother...er...female
caretaker's handwriting. Gently, she opened the envelope up and pulled out the
letter which was inside it. Unfolding the white sheet of paper, she started to
read...
Dear Jess,
We will miss you, darling. But we know
this is something you must do, and we knew that someday this would happen. Just
remember you are always welcome with our family.
I am enclosing a bundle of things that
came with you. I believe they are from your birth mother, Rose Dawson.
Hopefully they will be of some use on your journey.
Best of luck,
EMC
Astonished, she threw the letter aside and dug
around in her backpack some more, soon finding a brown paper sack. She was
intrigued now. Her mother had actually left some things so that she would know
who Rose was! Excitedly, Jessamyn ripped the brown paper open. Several things
fell out immediately. She picked each one up and examined them carefully.
First, there was a letter of some sort. She ran her fingers over the ink on the
front of the envelope. The words elegantly read Jessamyn Rose in beautiful
cultured handwriting. With shaking hands, she set the letter aside and picked
up the next item. It was another envelope. Since there was no writing on this
one and it was not sealed, she opened it up. And to her shock, she pulled out a
handful of photographs. For the first time in her life, Jessamyn got a look at
what she looked like as a baby. And then, much to her delight, she came across
pictures of Rose. Never having seen a picture of her mother either, she studied
the pictures as if she had just found the Rosetta Stone itself. The find was
even more exciting then the pictures of herself. Rose was beautiful, with long
curly hair and shining eyes. Her smile, Jessamyn discovered, matched her own.
Rose was apparently a little bit taller then her daughter, but the build was
somewhat the same.
Carefully, she put the pictures back and then
picked up the next part of the legacy. It was something hard, wrapped in cloth.
Carefully, she unwrapped it and gasped when she saw what had fallen in her lap.
It was a necklace! And not just any necklace.
"Whoa!" Jessamyn exclaimed very
loudly, causing a few people to turn and look. Turning her back toward them,
she studied the necklace some more.
The thing looked like it belonged in a museum
of French jewelry. On a chain of diamonds hung a gigantic blue heart,
surrounded by more diamonds. It must have cost a fortune, providing of course,
that it was real. Someone had to be of the upper-class to get something this
nice, so she soon figured it was costume jewelry, maybe something that Rose had
been involved with, like a play or something.
Lastly, Jessamyn came across a small stack of
dollar bills and some other little things like a playbill and a ticket. None of
it, except the money, made any sense to her. Why on earth would Rose keep
things like that for her? she wondered. She gently set those things down and
reached for the letter again. After looking at it for a moment, she opened it
up. The result was several pieces of paper, all with the same elegant writing
on them as the envelope. With a deep breath, Jessamyn started to read her
mother's words.
February 16, 1913
My dear Jessamyn,
I don't know where to begin, darling. I
guess the first thing I should say is that I love you. I never wanted to give
you up, Jess. You were my baby. You spent nine months inside my body. And as I
look at you now, asleep in a drawer because I cannot afford a crib, I can't
help but cry. This is the last night I will hold you. The last night I will
watch you sleep, or nurse you. Tomorrow is going to be the hardest day of my
life.
Please, do not be mad at me. Jess, I never
intended when I was pregnant to give you up. I had some money then, but it all
got spent quickly. The first month I was pregnant with you I was very sick and
had huge doctor's bills. And that wasn't because of you, it was because of
something that happened before you. After that, I tried to get a decent job and
home for us. But, because I was pregnant, I couldn't hold onto a job or a house
very long. And the money slipped away then. By the time you were born, I was
living in New York, with about eight hundred dollars. And most of that money
got quickly used as well, due to hospital visits and doctor's appointments.
Even after you were born, I couldn't get a job, darling. I had no skills, no
education after high school. I could barely take care of a baby. How could I
take care of a child who would eat more, need more things. I knew that if you
stayed with me, you wouldn't have much of a life. I didn't want you to grow up
like the children I see on the streets. I didn't want to see you begging for
food or money. You and I were both beginning to get sick. You especially. The
doctor said you needed medicine...expensive medicine. There was no way in the
world you would ever survive with me. So, I decided to give you to a family who
would be able to take care of you. Jessamyn, that was the hardest choice of my
life. And since, by the time you get this, you will have a lot of questions, I
am going to try and answer some things I know you might be wondering.
First of all, your name. I know Jessamyn
is not very common. And I hope you like it. You see, when I was about seven
months along with you, I splurged and went to a play that was in town. Everyone
had been talking about it. It was the hit of the year, they were saying. I
wanted to, not only go see it, but get away for a few hours. I needed a break,
in a sense. Well, it was about three minutes into the show when they brought
out the main character, and her name was Jessamyn. You immediately started
kicking...hard, too. I knew then that I had to call you Jessamyn. Rose is, of
course, my name. And I wanted you to have it as part of your own.
Darling, I know you must also be wondering
about your father. I don't think the story is appropriate to tell you over the
letter, but I can tell you a few things. Your father, Jack Dawson, was a
wonderful man. He was an artist that I met on a trip home from Europe. He grew
up on a farm in Wisconsin and, when his parents died, he left home at fifteen.
Jack was just twenty when I met him, and I was just barely seventeen. We were
in love, deeply, and we made it through a lot of things together. But he was
ripped away from me, even before I knew I was pregnant with you. I think about
him every day. And I promise, once we meet again, I will tell you the story.
But not now. He and I were not married. But I told everyone I had been,
including the Calverts, who you know as your adoptive parents. No one, but you
and I and Jack, need know what happened. Your father had the same eyes you do
now, that majestic blue. And he was built lithe and strong, with soft blond
hair. Jack was a wonderful person, Jessamyn. He saved me.
I am going to include a photograph in this
package, but I still want you to know more about me. I grew up rich and
privileged. And how I ended up in this broken-down apartment is part of the
story of your father. No, he did not do this to me. If anything, he helped me.
I have red hair, that at the moment is long and curly. And I have blue-green
eyes. I can't help but wonder how you will turn out, what you look like now. As
a baby, you had your father's eyes and my build, which is stockier then your
dad. I know, that whoever you look like, that you are beautiful. But let's see,
my full name was Rose Marie DeWitt Bukater. But, you must never tell anyone
that I was a DeWitt Bukater, Jess. It would bring us both trouble. I will
explain why that is so when I tell you the story of your father and I. Now,
since April of 1912, I call myself Rose Dawson, after your father. You are a
Dawson as well, Jessamyn. It says so on your birth certificate, which I have.
The Calverts agreed to keep your first and middle name for me, so long as they
got to use Calvert instead of Dawson. They also said, that once you were told
of your real family, that you could chose which last name you wanted. Whatever
you choose, I know it will be a wise decision.
I know that you must be confused, and
possibly a little hurt, Jess. I just want you to know that I love you. I love
you more then anything in this world. I hope, someday, that we will meet again.
I am planning to move to Santa Monica in a little while. It's a place your
father and I always planned on going to. I am not sure if I will still be there
when you get this letter, but it will give you a place to start. I love you.
Love,
Your mother,
Rose Dawson
Jessamyn sat back and let the letter fall to
her lap, in a total state of shock. Not only was she a real, honest-to-God
bastard, but her mother had also grown up in a rich family. Over the years,
Jessamyn had heard a little about the DeWitt Bukaters. She knew they had lived
in Philadelphia and were well off until the old man died. That was about it.
Aside from all that, she now knew a little of who her father was, something
that made her very happy. The only thing she was sad about was the fact that he
had died before she could meet him. And, of course, her peculiar name was no
longer a mystery, thank goodness.
As Jessamyn sat, she wondered now about her
mother's past. And about her father, who seemed to have such an impact on Rose.
There must be some story to it all. And she, once she found Mrs. Rose Dawson,
was going to get to the bottom of it.