TITANIC CONTINUED
Chapter Twelve
"Jack, I know just what you
have to do! What we have to do...I will help you!" reassured Fabrizio.
Jack saw the look of concern in
his best friend's eyes. "What?" he whispered softly.
*****
"Rose, don't be silly. Of
course I forgive you." As Cal spoke, he leaned over to touch Rose's hands.
"It's just that I've
been...terrible to you. I haven't apologized to Mother yet. But you were both
right. I haven't been myself these past few days. It just took a wake-up call.
I'm sorry, dear," Rose said, her gaze falling to the floor.
Cal stood up and walked behind
Rose, putting his hands on her shoulders. "We're engaged to be married in
a few short weeks. I could never stay angry with you. You're my angel," he
said, now stroking her head. "I'm so proud of you for finally accepting
your fate."
Rose turned around to face him.
He leaned over, their lips meeting. Rose tried to return the kiss with as much
sincerity and love as she could muster. But something wasn't right.
"Now," Cal said, after
the kiss, "one thing before I go. I have to go back upstairs to see to
some things. Can you promise me something, Rose?"
With Cal's taste, so different
from Jack's, still lingering on her lips, Rose replied, "Of course."
Cal cleared his throat and
straightened his tie. "That...Jack Dawson you've been getting friendly
with--don't argue, Rose. I've heard it every where I've turned. Now, you've
apologized, and I believe with all my heart that you have no more...feelings
for this creature. Isn't that right?"
Cal's stare was stern, cold.
Rose swallowed, but the words
came easier than she'd expected.
"Whatever we had has long
and forever ended."
Cal smiled, obviously pleased.
Then his look became cold again.
"You will not see him again.
Ever. Is that understood, my dear?"
"I understand," Rose
said. This time, the words hurt.
Cal grabbed his coat and stepped
into the doorway. With one last triumphant glance at Rose, he added,
"We'll be so happy, Rose." Then he was gone. And Rose was alone
again.
She got up, walked to her suite,
and removed her top layers of clothing so she could unlace the tight,
uncomfortable corset. A picture of she, her mother, and her father, taken about
the time Rose was thirteen, was perched beside the mirror. Her father's gentle
eyes looked at Rose with love and concern, as they always did when he was
alive.
She lay down on the bed, staring
at the ceiling. She wanted to sleep, to clear her mind, to stop thinking just
long enough to be at peace.
"I don't even know what's
bothering me," she said to herself. "The mistake has been
fixed."
She rolled to her side. Sleep
finally began to take her over.
As she drifted off,
everything--from the recent evening until this afternoon--became one big, giant
watercolor; everything smeared together in one huge, unrecognizable mess.
Jack doesn't want you.
*****
"It won't work. Nothing will
work now. I've dug myself in too deep, Fabrizio. I wish you could help. But
nobody can do anything. She must hate me now."
For the past twenty minutes,
Fabrizio had been planning a way for Jack to get Rose alone one last time
before the Titanic docked, just so they could talk. His plan seemed useless to
Jack, who was still wallowing in despair.
"Well, somebody has got to
do something!" Fabrizio exclaimed.
There was a moment of silence.
The gin rummy tournaments were
just now ending; the crowd left in one big, noisy whisk, leaving Jack and
Fabrizio alone.
"You don't have to stay
here. I'm all right."
But Fabrizio refused to leave.
"This is important, Jack."
Jack sat up. It made him dizzy at
first, but then it cleared and he spoke.
"Say this plan of yours does
work. That still leaves a problem. I don't know what I want. I mean, I love her
so much...and a few hours ago, I completely made her think that I never wanted
to see her again...when really I'm doing this all because it's best for
her."
"Oh, shut up Jack!"
Fabrizio said with frustration. "It's for her family to decide what's best
for her! It's for her to decide! Leave what's best for her out of this, will
you? I swear, you Americans..."
Jack just looked at him.
"What do you want?"
Fabrizio asked, almost yelling. "Nobody can help you, Jack. You went to
that lady, Mrs. Brown, and now me. I am trying to help you as well. But nothing
is making sense, because you…you won‘t even try! Do you want Rose or not?
Forget what is right for her. Let her be a grown-up, will you, for just a
moment? Let's pretend Rose is a grown-up. All right, Jack? Do that. Now, tell
me, do you want her back?"
Jack shook his head and closed
his eyes. "More than anything."
Fabrizio clapped. "Then it's
settled! Tomorrow afternoon or early in the evening, we will dock in New York.
Sometime in the morning, you and Rose will have enough time to discuss this.
You will work things out. Do you understand?"
Jack nodded slowly.
"But you must know what you
intend to say to her! You must beg for forgiveness."
Jack sighed. "That's the
part I'm afraid of. What if I apologize, and she doesn't forgive me? I mean,
what if she slaps me or something, or calls me names, tells me what a bastard I
am...I deserve that, you know. It wouldn't surprise me one bit. What then? How
am I gonna convince her that I still love her? What if she's afraid I'll hurt
her again?"
In his mind, Jack swore that he
would never hurt her again.
Fabrizio's answer came easily.
"If she loves you, that will not matter."