CHANCE ENCOUNTER
Chapter Four

"And just where are you heading off to, Rose?" Her hand on the doorknob, Rose felt her own shoulders sink, and a shiver chasing up her spine. The high pitched sound of the voice behind her could only belong to one person. And besides- who else would be watching her every move, other than Agnes Calvert?

Slowly Rose found the courage to turn and face the looming presence above her. Peeking down through thin, wire-rimmed glasses was Maxwell's older, and unmarried, sister. Agnes' lips were set firmly into a look of disapproval, and her eyes examined Rose's almost suspiciously. Rose could only sigh, letting her hand fall from the silver doorknob.

"Well, Rose- are you going to tell me or not?" The floor moved slightly as Agnes tapped her foot impatiently, arms folded across her chest.

"I..." Rose looked down, rewording her excuse again and again in her mind. "I actually thought I'd go to get that haircut I've been discussing with you. At the department store."

Agnes' solid, thick cheekbones seemed to sway in indecision, until she raised an eyebrow. A silence seemed to penetrate the air while she thought. Rose had mentioned a haircut back in Cedar Rapids- and she had given her own opinion in the matter. Enough of those floozy like curls. Since the girl was going to be married, a more contained sort of hairdo would be more appropriate. Yes, it seemed a legitimate outing.

"And you'd like to go alone then?" Her stony expression was enough to stop all the traffic on State Street.

Rose eyed the graying bun atop Agnes' head and gulped, wanting so much to leave, to escape. Stealing a glance at the clock told her that she had exactly 10 minutes to get to Jack, to be on time. And she really didn't even know how to get to the cafe. It might take her even longer than that.

"Yes, Agnes, please. I'll be fine." Rose raised her chin and tried to appear as stern as Agnes herself was. Meeting the older woman's gaze straight on, she seemed suddenly confident and self-assured. But inside, the battle between reality and what she so desperately wanted was raging on.

"Well..." muttered Aggie. Rose held her breath, like a prisoner awaiting their sentence. "I suppose so,” said Aggie. “But I refuse to let you romp around the city all day as Maxwell did yesterday. It's just not something respectable ladies do. Mark my words, if someone doesn't control you, Lord knows that kind of trouble will befall you. It’s just not respectable,“ she repeated. Agnes raised her finger and pointed it at Rose. “I want you back here no later than two, no ifs, ands or buts. Have I made myself clear? Someone has to look out for this family's morals."

Rose felt an angry lump rising inside her throat. Who was this woman? A bitter old maid- who somehow thought she could manage and control another person's life? Rose used to convince herself, somehow- that Agnes was simply the concerned sister of her kind fiancé. But that image was dwindling more and more with every day. Her tone was a throw back to Ruth's demeaning voice- her pleads for propriety and social acceptance, over laced with Cal’s need for total domination.

"Fine. Fine..." Rose's voice faded away, and she found it hard to control the gnawing feeling of discomfort. Oh, how she wanted to be with Jack- hear his beautiful voice, gaze into his blue eyes. And no matter what price she had to pay- to Agnes, to Maxwell- she had to go to him, keep her promise.

Agnes shook her head in disbelief as Rose raced out the door, her hair and purse flying behind her. Why on earth was that girl always in such a rush? And there was something even more peculiar about her today...but she couldn't pinpoint what. Rose had come in yesterday afternoon and kept her silence, saying that she was tired from so much walking and headed straight for bed. And now this morning- she seemed jittery and almost nervous. And then there had been the name that Rose had called out in her sleep from time to time. Another man’s name. Oh, she was hiding something and up to no good. Of that, Aggie was certain.

Agnes walked briskly to the window, swiping the collar of her high necked blouse, and adjusted her glasses. She saw the canopy of the hotel entrance swaying in the wind, and a few seconds later, Rose emerging from it- practically running down the busy sidewalk. But...was that the wrong direction she was headed in?

Marshall Field and Company was the complete opposite way, if Agnes remembered correctly. “I know that girl is up to something. Maxwell! Maxwell? Where are you?” she sputtered. Agnes stomped across the room and pulled open the door to her brother's sitting room. “What is this world coming too? Your precious fiancé has just taken off for parts unknown in this town. I saw her myself.”

“What is it?” asked Maxwell wearily. He was getting tired of Agnes’ constant surveillance of himself and Rose. It was obvious that there was not enough to interest her here in Chicago. She was finding the business of himself and everyone else in the hotel, far more interesting. He was right in the middle of finding some important information in a book catalog. “What do you want now?” He didn’t even look up at her, because he knew that the perpetual look of gloom on her face, would have grown darker.

“That girl, Rose, she headed in the wrong direction. She said she was heading for Marshall Field’s and she went the other way.” Aggie peaked through the curtains as if still expecting to see Rose. “If you don’t care, you’ll pay the price. And don’t say I didn’t tell you.” Her thin lips were pursed together. She gave a nice impression of someone who had just swallowed sour milk.

“Really, Aggie. You are far too hard on the girl. She probably just got confused. I’m sure she’ll find her way.” Maxwell buried his head again in the book. Maybe if he ignored his sister she would go away.

Agnes studied her brother. He was such a trusting sort. She felt that he had been taken in by Miss Rose Dawson from the beginning. It was outrageous that he would want to take an actress for a wife. There was something different about Rose, something that she kept hidden and she was determined to find out before her brother bought a wedding ring.

“She takes in her sleep, you know, Maxwell.”

Maxwell looked up at this ridiculous statement. “Everyone talks in their sleep from time to time Aggie. Really, haven’t you got anything else to do?”

“She calls out a man’s name,” said Aggie, waiting to see if this would get a response from her brother. “She calls for someone named Jack.”

His pen slid across the paper. Jack. They’d met someone named Jack yesterday. The man who looked like he already knew more about Rose than he did. Suddenly, the warmth had gone out of the day. He glanced at Aggie’s stern face. Maybe she was right. Perhaps he should be paying more attention to Rose and where she went. “Jack, you say?”

Aggie nodded. “Yes, many nights, she calls for him and then cries in her sleep.”

Maxwell put down his pen and book. “Alright Aggie. Maybe I’ll go and see if she made it to Field’s. I wouldn’t want her to get lost.”

Aggie put her hand on her hip and stood up straighter. “Finally knocked some sense into you.” With a loud humph, Aggie turned on her heel and left the room. It was a good thing that boy had her looking after him. She’d have to teach him a thing or two about training someone like Rose to be more compliant. “Maxwell should be grateful for a sister like me. He’d be a lost cause without me.”

Jack sat nervously at a small table in the corner of Berghoff's, leaning back to run his hands through his hair. Stretching to check the door for what seemed like the 20th time, he sighed and brought them back down to the table. His fingers traced the label of his beer, and he squinted to read it, trying to take his mind off of the time.

"Only five minutes, Dawson. She's only five minutes late. She's coming." He silently coaxed himself into believing that, and took a gulp from the cold bottle. The rather dark cafe seemed the perfect place in this dreary weather. The rain had picked up in the last few minutes, and a cascade of gray drops fell across the steamed windows. A faint, dusty lamp hung above the table, sending a warm glow over the wood.

"Still waiting?" Jack looked up to the kind waiter who had led him to the table almost fifteen minutes earlier.

"Yep." Jack tried to force a smile.

"I'll keep an eye out. A young lady, right? Red hair you said?" The waiter inquired, lifting his dark eyebrows.

"Yes, yes. Please. And tell her where I am?"

"Surely, surely." He nodded and wiped his hands on the crisp white towel that hung from his black uniform. "I'll bring her right here, don't worry."

Jack nodded in gratitude and slumped back into his chair as the waiter walked back to his station, near the front door. Checking his watch once more only made his heart sink lower and lower inside his chest. She had promised she would make it. And Jack was sure he had seen that look in her eye- that hope.

Maybe she wasn't able to get away, maybe...

"Sir?"

Jack's head shot up and his heart skipped a beat.

Standing alongside the very same waiter was Rose, soaked by the rain. Her hair fell limply around her face, and Jack stood up, silently pulling a chair out for her. Her lips seemed to almost tremble as she sat, and Jack recognized a look of worry in her green eyes.

Before he could even thank the waiter, he was gone, leaving Jack only to gaze at Rose, who was situating herself in the chair, trying to arrange her hair. She seemed almost distraught, jittery as she looked around the cozy cafe. But then she met his gaze, and he could see her tenseness lessen noticeably. Her lips seemed to curve into a weak smile, opening for only one syllable. "Jack," she whispered, barely audibly.

Jack kept his eyes on her, reaching to take her hand. Her skin was cold and clammy. Gently he took the other, warming them both as he spoke.

"Did you find it alright Rose, the cafe?" Maybe he could finally get her to open up to him, by asking some simple questions.

Rose felt that she was losing herself in his eyes again, lulled by their deep color. But upon hearing his soft voice, she cleared her throat and spoke.

"It wasn't that difficult. But then it started raining, and I practically had to run..." Her voice cracked, and she closed her eyes, trying to prevent herself from crying. But the hot tears would not retreat, and soon they were falling freely down her face. Not even bothering to wipe them away, or look down, Rose only gazed back at Jack, silently pleading with him.

"Rose, what's wrong? Did something happen...Did one of them find out?" Jack's own eyebrows creased in worry, desperate to ease her obvious pain.

"No, no- they don't know Jack. I told them I was going for a haircut. And I don't even know how I'm going to explain coming back without one." Rose sighed and met Jack's gaze, surprised to see a hint of a smile on his face. She realized that her comment probably had sounded slightly amusing, and she couldn't help but allow her own lips to form a smile. Her mouth opened in a soft laugh, contrasting deeply to the tears on her face, and for just a second- Jack was sure he caught a glimpse of the fire he knew must still exist inside her.

"Well, we'll worry about that later." Jack stopped for a moment and squeezed her hands, talking a glance around the cafe. "I thought we could talk here, figure some things out. Rose, I need you to tell me why you're so upset- why you were just crying?"

He saw the slight rise of her shoulders and watched as she drew in a deep breath. She closed her eyes and pulled her lips together. It was as if she was steeling herself for some dreaded experience. A fist came up in an attempt to dry her eyes. Jack reached in his pocket and pulled out a handkerchief. "Here, Rose," he said, dabbing at her tears. "Please tell me."

Rose gazed into Jack's steady eyes and knew there was nothing to hide. All her thoughts had always been so transparent to Jack. He had always known more about what was going on inside her than she did.

"Oh, Jack. I think it's worse than before." She saw the confusion in his face. "Aggie, his sister," Rose explained. "She's so controlling and rigid. Worse really than Mother and Cal. She watches me over the top of her glasses. Everything I do and say. It's almost as if she is waiting for me to make a mistake." Rose hung her head as more tears flowed out of her eyes.

Jack shook his head sympathetically. It was good that Rose was talking. But it was this Maxwell he wanted to hear more about. He needed to know just what he meant to Rose. "And him? Does he control you too?" Jack asked gently.

Rose looked down at their joined hands. That was what she wanted, to be joined with Jack forever. She wanted to be free, to let her spirit soar, to be allowed to express her love anytime, anyplace. In her heart, she knew that she would die inside if she allowed herself to be led to the altar in Cedar Rapids. It was to Jack that she belonged.

"No, Maxwell does not control me. It's just that he does not show any feelings. Everything has to be so damned proper and orchestrated." Her red curls shook as she vehemently answered this question.

"So, what are you going to do? Are you going to go back to Iowa with him?" Jack knew what he wanted, knew what he wanted for Rose. But he had to hear it from her. He did not want her to feel that he was trying to control her as well.

Rose raised her eyes and saw the intensity of Jack's look. It seemed like he was willing her to say something. In her mind flashed visions of herself standing at Maxwell's side as his bride. His movements were stiff and formal. She thought of his cold, chaste kisses on her forehead or cheek. His affections were about as welcoming as a cold snake. She could picture Aggie in her black dress, satisfied that everything was proper, regardless of whether or not anyone was happy. Rose could feel her heart racing from panic. No. She could not do this. She would not make this terrible mistake. Jack was here and whatever life he had, she was going to share it with him.

She twisted her hands around in his. Hers felt icy cold, compared with the warmth of his palms. Rose cleared her throat and tried to quiet her mind. She felt her eyes captured again by Jack's. Without blinking she looked straight at him and gave her answer. "No, Jack. I'm not going back with them." She held her head high, relieved that she had spoken her decision. "I want, I'm going..."

"Rose?" he asked hopefully.

"Jack, I want to be part of your life. I want to leave Chicago with you." There she had said it. She sighed with relief at saying the words that would give her the chance at a life with Jack.

A smile spread across his face. "I want you to be part of my life too, Rose. I want us to have a life together. To share everything. It'll be good Rose. I promise." He picked up one of her hands and held it against his cheek. Jack saw her eyes glistening again with tears. But this time, he knew she was crying for a different reason.

"Oh, Jack," she whispered hoarsely. "I feel so relieved. Now I have to tell them. I want to be with you." Suddenly she frowned.

"What is it?" Jack asked, disturbed by the change in her mood.

"Oh, it's just that Maxwell is going to be with friends all afternoon and evening. That means I can't tell him until tomorrow. I didn't want to wait that long. I'll never sleep thinking about getting this over with," she admitted.

Jack leaned forward, his thoughts racing towards the time when Rose would finally be free of Calvert. It could not be soon enough as far as he was concerned. For the moment he tried to concentrate on how irresistible she looked with her curling red hair falling over her neckline and how tempting her lips looked.

“Rose?” he whispered.

“What is it?” she asked, looking into his eyes. Her breathing quickened as she saw the message in his look. A message that read desire. “Oh,” she murmured.

He pressed himself closer to the edge of the table to a point where he knew she would meet him. He was breathing so heavily that he could hear nothing around him.

Rose felt a stir of air as she moved closer to Jack. From somewhere came a voice and the sound of a person clearing their throat.

“Ahem. You wished to order sir? You said when the young lady arrived?”

Jack’s head jerked to the side and he came face to face with a starched white apron. With his eyes moving upward, he managed to smile somewhat awkwardly at the waiter who stood over him, pad of paper in hand. Jack could feel the color rising in his face. He wondered if he was blushing as much as Rose.

“Would you like to place an order,” the man repeated.

“Ah, yeah. We didn’t have much time to look over the menu,” Jack admitted. “Maybe you can suggest something.”

The waiter nodded, a slight smirk on his face. He described several of the more popular items on the menu, knowing full well that the couple was not really listening. It was more than obvious that they had not come to the Berghoff for the food. After a brief discussion, Rose ordered the braised beef with mushroom sauce, served over noodles. Jack decided on the pot roast.

“May I suggest an order of potato pancakes? They are one of our specialties.”

“Sure,” answered Jack, anxious to be alone with Rose once more. He watched as the waiter disappeared into the kitchen. Then he spoke. “You know I am looking forward to not having to steal kisses in the corner of some dark restaurant. I want us to be together openly.”

Rose’s eyes sparkled. She curved her hand around Jack’s cheek, smiling as she stroked his warm skin. “Soon, Jack. I want that very much too.”

He put his hand over hers, his piercing eyes speaking of the love in his heart. Jack watched as a smile crept across her face. A smile he knew she gave only to him.

“I wish you didn’t have to walk back in all this rain.” Jack spoke with a raised voice trying to be heard above the sound of the rain and the traffic. He looked out from under the awning where he and Rose stood, watching the passing automobiles splash water over the curb. The rain ran in rivers over the side of the awning.

“I’ll be alright. I’ll take a hot bath as soon as I get in.” She pushed her still damp hair off of her face.

“Promise, Rose. I don’t want you to get sick. And tomorrow morning I want to see you again.”

They had made plans to meet again in the early morning. Jack wanted to take her to see the sunrise over the lake. He also wanted to talk to her again before she told Calvert that she was breaking the engagement. He wanted to be sure that Rose knew what lie ahead. He was sure that knowing his artist’s life was rather frugal would not change her decision. She certainly had not given it a thought on Titanic. But he had to be sure.

“You sure you can be up that early,” he asked. He was squinting from the rain falling in his eyes.

“Yes. Don’t worry. I will come downstairs. And I know where to find you. By the main door, on Wabash Ave.” She wanted to convince Jack she would follow his directions in the morning. Rose had told him that Aggie was a sound sleeper and would not likely even get up until nine or so. “She wears this sleep mask, so the light won’t bother her. And I can’t be sure, Jack, but I swear I think she takes a nip of something before she gets in bed.” Rose giggled as she thought of Aggie lumbering into the bedroom in her voluminous nightgown. It covered every inch of her body from her chin to the tips of her toes.

Jack saw Rose’s smile and caught her infectious grin. He had a feeling that his time alone was numbered in hours only. This time, Rose would be his.

“You better get going back,” he urged, not wanting her to risk the wrath of the infamous Aggie. He glanced out at the downpour wishing he had a coat to give Rose. There were several unclaimed umbrellas in the umbrella stand in the Berghoff foyer and Jack had grabbed one of those for Rose. By his calculations she had only about two and a half blocks to walk. But in rain like this she would still be soaked.

“Alright, Jack. I’ll see you in the morning.” She stood on her tiptoes and kissed his forehead. “Five A.M.” For Jack she would do anything. Even get up before the sun.

He watched as she took off in a run, heading towards State Street. She waited as the corner for traffic. But when her break came she did not cross. Instead she turned to him and shouted. The only word he could make out was “you”.

He cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted, “What?”

She smiled brilliantly and mimicked his actions. Rose brought her hands around her mouth and called again.

“I love you.” She turned again to the traffic, saw an opening and darted across the street. Rose paused on the corner and blew him a kiss, then she was gone in the crowd of the afternoon shoppers.

He had moved out on the sidewalk to see her better. He was wet from head to toe, but he didn’t even notice. Jack shook his head, smiling to himself. He’d seen a lot of things in his life. But never a woman standing on the street shouting “I love you.” That it was Rose didn’t surprise him in the least. “I can see that fire still burns in her. I love her so much.” Jack tucked his head close to his body and took off in a run. He was still chuckling about his amazing Rose, when he let himself into his hotel room.

Chapter Five
Stories