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?"