TITANIC CONTINUED
Chapter Twenty-Two

Jack walked down the corridor, trying to get the sight of Ruth DeWitt Bukater crying off his mind.

He had decided it was a good time to leave, so he'd said good night to Rose and left her there with her mother.

Now all he wanted to do was sleep, and let all the day's events sink in. So much had happened in just one day. And tomorrow evening the Titanic would dock.

Before he got to his room, Jack realized that he was terribly hungry. In fact, he hadn't eaten since early afternoon.

He made a detour to the third class dining room, but stepping into the elevator he ran into a very familiar face. It was Molly.

Without even thinking, or caring if anyone was watching, Molly threw her arms around Jack in a motherly embrace. Jack was surprised, but hugged her right back.

As Molly pulled away, Jack saw that her usually jolly expression was one of seriousness.

"Hey. Penny for your thoughts," Jack prompted.

Molly smiled. "That was the nicest thing anyone's ever done for me. Thank you, Jack."

Jack blushed. "It was no big deal, really..."

Molly interrupted. "You're wrong, Jack. It is a big deal! You have an amazing ability! Have you ever tried making a living out of it?"

Jack almost laughed at the irony. "Have I? If only you knew!"

Jack explained to Molly that drawing was his dream job, but it just hadn't taken off quite yet. And, as they stepped out of the elevator, he told her about the whole evening's events—how they had broken the news to Rose's mother and Cal, how Ruth had actually cried, and, of course, their dilemma—the money.

Molly listened as he spoke and nodded her head understandingly until he finished.

"Well, Jack, I don't know what to say. You've got quite a stumper there. What do you say we talk about it over dinner? First class style?"

Jack's stomach was actually growling, so he gladly accepted. He held out his arm to escort her to the dining room.

"Wait," he said. "I'm not dressed right."

The two made a beeline for Molly's stateroom, where Jack quickly changed into the tuxedo he had borrowed from Molly a few days earlier when he had been invited to dinner in first class for saving Rose's life by none other than Cal himself.

Finally, it was time to eat.

The dining room wasn't at all crowded, since it was late for dinner. However, there were a few tables still filled with people.

A waiter approached them and asked if they would like to join a group. Molly requested a table for two so they could continue their private talk.

They seated themselves and ordered. While they waited for the food, Molly excused herself to go to the ladies' room. Jack sat back in his chair, anticipating the delicious taste of the crème brulee Molly had suggested.

He studied the people at the other tables. All so delicate-looking, so aristocratic. The women looked like china dolls, all painted up perfectly, and even the men looked a little fragile.

All of a sudden, Jack came to a face that looked familiar. He knew he had seen this man before.

No, he thought. I don't really know any of these people. I've probably just seen him walking around the ship, so I think I recognize him from somewhere.

But he couldn't shake this feeling deep down that he had known this person before. The man was tall, strongly-built, and in his late forties. He looked different from the other men seated around the table—he didn't possess that rich look. However, he was dressed in the same clothes and fit right in. But it was different with him...he stood out in the same kind of way that...that Molly did.

"Oh, my God...nah, it couldn't be!"

Jack rose from his chair, but then, afraid of making a fool out of himself, sat back down. Then he studied the man for a few more minutes, and knew he wasn't mistaken. He got up and walked over to the table the man was seated at. He cleared his throat before speaking.

"Uncle James?"

Chapter Twenty-Three
Stories