MAKING IT COUNT
Chapter Ten

Truth Revealed
April 14, 1914

"Rose, what’s wrong?"

"Nothing," Rose replied flatly.

"Rose..."

"Just please leave me alone!" Her voice now sounded angry and annoyed. She walked into the bedroom and slammed the door shut, locking it behind her. John slumped to the floor, baffled. What did I do? he asked himself.

Inside, Rose paced across the room. She was too self-indulged to be polite. It had been two years, now. Two years. But it was so new in her mind, still. It was too much for her to think about. She lay down on the bed and began to sob into her pillow, nearly waking Hope up.

Outside the door, John heard Rose’s cries, but there was nothing he could do. She had locked the door, and even if he could get in, she would not tell him what was bothering her. He knew her well enough to know that. Gaining his composure, he stood and walked into his old bedroom, collapsing on the bed and feeling his own tears start to fall.

Rose stopped her tears and turned onto her back. She stared at the ceiling and glanced out the window. God, it was still snowing. Rose supposed they would be having an indoor wedding after all. The winter just didn’t seem to want to stop.

Rose looked over at the clock--four after eight. She closed her eyes; she was flying.

*****

When Rose awoke the next morning and noticed John was not beside her, she became worried. But then she remembered. She had locked him out...and she had yelled at him to leave her alone.

"Shit," she mumbled, realizing the explaining she had to do. John had never known she was on the Titanic. He probably thought she was angry with him for something.

It was early, and Hope would not be awake for a few hours yet, so Rose decided she would take an early breakfast with Molly. Occasionally, Molly was awake this early. If she wasn’t, Rose would take something up to her room. David was, for sure, already in the kitchen.

Rose put her robe over her nightgown and peeked out her doorway, making sure John was not up yet. Where had he slept, anyway? Just as Rose reached the top of the stairs, she was halted in mid-step by John’s voice.

"Rose...if we’re having a fight, it would be nice if you would inform me." After lingering for a few moments, he closed his door and returned to his bed. Rose though she would go apologize right away, but then she thought again. She decided she would bring breakfast up for the both of them. Then, if he wanted an explanation, she would have to explain. Somehow. Rose sighed and walked downstairs and into the kitchen.

"David?" Rose called as she peered around. Rose heard a clunk and saw David appear from behind the counter, holding his head.

"Oh, David. I’m sorry." Rose realized she had startled him into bumping his head.

"That’s all right, Miss Rose. Is there something I can do for you?"

"I was hoping to bring some breakfast up for John and myself," she explained.

"Very good, miss. I’ll make something up right away," he said with a smile. "Would you like me to bring it up when it’s finished?"

"No, I don’t think that’s a good idea." Rose bit her lower lip. "I’ll stay down here, then take it up myself."

"Is something wrong, miss?"

"Well, yes. I...uh…John and I--"

"Had a fight?" David guessed.

"Sort of," she said awkwardly.

"No need to explain. Breakfast will be ready soon. Why don’t you go play your piano…hmm? That usually helps you." David smiled at her. Rose noticed he had said her piano. Rose supposed, in a sense, it was hers. No one else ever played it...

"Yes, you’re right. You’ll come and get me?"

"Of course, miss." Rose nodded and walked into the dining room. She sat quietly at the bench and placed her fingers on the ivory keys. A familiar melody flowed from her fingertips. She sang along as she played.

"Come Josephine, in my flying machine, going up she goes. Up she goes..." She played slowly and softly, but John could still hear her from upstairs. He sighed in realization. Rose always played when she was upset...but never when she was angry. Something was really troubling her. John buried his face in his pillow and groaned loudly, though the sound was muffled by the pillow.

"I love you, Rose," he whispered before falling back asleep.

*****

A short while later, John was awakened by a knock on his door.

"John..." Rose’s voice came.

"Hmm?" he grumbled.

"May I come in?" she asked hesitantly.

"Sure," he said flatly.

Rose opened the door carefully, bearing a tray of food. A crystal vase with a single red rose stood in the center of the tray. "I come asking for your forgiveness." John looked up at her and gave her a half-smile.

"Come. Sit." John sat up and pulled the covers down beside him. Rose placed the tray of food on the chest at the foot of the bed.

"Now, will you tell me what’s been troubling you?" Rose looked down at her hands and fondled her engagement ring.

"I guess I do owe you an explanation." Rose sighed, continuing to fondle her ring.

"Rose." John lifted her chin. "You know you can tell me anything."

Rose closed her eyes and nodded slightly. With a long breath, she attempted to start her explanation. "Do you remember what happened two years ago today?" Rose tried to clue him in.

John thought for a moment, then recalled. "The Titanic sinking?"

"Right. And did I ever tell you where Molly and I met?" She hoped that John would understand soon.

"No," he said simply.

"We met...on the...ship. On Titanic."

John sat there, stunned, for several seconds. Why hadn’t he made the connection before? "Oh, my God. Rose..." He started to wrap his arms around her, but she shrugged him off.

"Do you want to hear the rest? I mean, really hear it?" Rose looked back down at her ring.

"Rose, I read the newspapers--"

"No," Rose interjected. "There’s more to it than just that. And I think you deserve to know."

"All right," he nearly whispered.

Rose exhaled deeply, realizing this might very well change many things between she and John. She decided to just blurt it out and get it over with. "I met Jack on that ship."

John looked at her and sat back into the pillows. He understood what Rose was getting at. Everything was suddenly becoming clear to him.

"So, Hope was conceived..."

Rose just nodded her head quickly, feeling the tears welling in her eyes.

"How...we...what if...?" Now John hoped Rose would understand what he was asking.

"No. I’ve been...careful...with us," she explained.

There were so many questions floating through John’s mind. He didn’t know quite what to say, or ask, Rose at that moment.

"I know--" Rose tried to restrain her tears. "I know there is so much...more to explain. But I--" Rose just started sobbing. She turned her back to John and covered her face. Much to her surprise, she felt John’s gentle embrace come from behind.

"Shh. It’s all right." He tried to comfort her.

"My...my name was Rose DeWitt Bukater, and I--"

John cut her off, immediately recognizing the name. "DeWitt Bukater? You were engaged to Caledon Hockley, weren’t you?"

Rose still did not turn, but nodded her head. The last thing she wanted to do on this day was recall the bad memories. But maybe John would understand now.

John wondered, "If you were engaged to Hockley..."

"I was unhappy," Rose explained calmly. "My mother forced the engagement upon me. Jack saved me from a life that I hated. He stopped me from...killing myself. And in the end...he gave his life so that I could live." Rose’s tears ceased. She had been through this over and over in her mind. She no longer cried for Jack.

"On the rescue ship, an officer asked my name. I said what felt right--Rose Dawson." Rose fell silent and still. It was now up to John to form a judgment.

"Is this why your mother did not approve of Jack, and why you have not talked to her?"

"Well, Jack was...third class. And Mother did not see it fit for me to even acknowledge his presence. I left her on the ship. She got on a lifeboat and I did not." Rose waited for John to ask.

"You didn’t get on the boat?"

"No. Jack was being held for a framed crime, created by none other than Caledon Hockley himself. I had to save him. Later, when Jack put me on a lifeboat, I jumped back onto the ship. I couldn’t go without him. In short, the ship sank and we were in the water. There was a piece of wreckage...enough to hold just one person. Jack told me to get on it, and he...he froze to death." Rose’s voice was squeaky and in danger of sobs overwhelming her.

John finally spoke up. "I know there are things you’re not telling me, and you don’t have to if you don’t want to. But tell me one thing. Do you feel...guilty...being with me?"

"Oh, John." Rose turned to face him. "Being with you is one of the most natural things I have ever felt." Rose placed her hand on John’s face. "I love you," she said truthfully.

"No guilty feelings?"

"No," she said softly. "None at all. I know Jack has given me his blessings."

John brushed his lips gently against Rose’s. Rose returned his kisses willingly.

"Mommy!" Rose heard Hope whine.

Rose sighed and parted from John. "I’d better go."

"Let me," John said. He stood and walked out into the hallway, making his way to their bedroom.

"Hi, precious," John spoke to Hope.

Hope smiled and reached her arms up, wanting to be picked up.

"Daddy!" Hope exclaimed. John was stunned. She never called him that before. John knew he would have to talk to Rose about this. It wouldn’t be right if Hope grew up thinking John was her father. One question went through John’s mind as he picked Hope up into his arms. Where did she learn to say daddy? Or rather...from who?

"Rose," John called, walking back into the bedroom with Hope in his arms.

"Yes?" Rose answered as they entered.

"Hope...she...I..." John found himself tongue-tied.

"What is it, John?" Rose’s face held concern. She reached her arms out for Hope as John sat back down on the bed next to her.

"She...Hope called me...Daddy." John looked at Rose, expecting her to look as confused as he.

"Well, of course she did," Rose replied, bouncing Hope on her knee.

"Rose..."

"What?"

"I mean no disrespect to anyone here...but I’m not her father. I don’t think it would be fair if she grew up thinking--"

"John, I taught her how to say daddy for a reason. Jack may be her father, but you will always be her daddy," Rose explained. "When the time is right, when she is older...I’ll explain it to her."

Rose placed Hope on her lap so she was facing John. Hope reached out for John and tried to stand on the wobbly bed. She fell in her efforts, and both John and Rose laughed. John picked her up, stretching her up in the air with his arms. She giggled happily.

He placed her in his lap so she was looking up at him. "How about that?" John asked. "I’m a daddy and I didn’t even know it." John placed his nose to Hope’s and wiggled it back and forth. She put her hands on his cheeks and hit him playfully.

Rose laughed and lay back down onto the bed. John, all of a sudden noticing Rose was not paying attention, placed Hope on her stomach.

"Oof." Rose eyed John playfully and lay Hope down on her stomach.

"Rose?"

"Hmm?"

"Do you want more children?" It had been a question on John’s mind for a long time now. Of course, John wanted children, but he didn’t know if Rose did.

Rose sighed and thought for a moment. "I think in the future, yes...but not right away. I’m not ready. I don’t think I ever really was." Rose turned her gaze down to her beautiful daughter. "I was only seventeen when she was...conceived." Rose stuttered upon the last word. "But I love her and I do the best I can. And Molly has always been here to help me." Rose smiled weakly up at John.

"How exactly did you two meet...you and Molly?" John asked wonderingly.

"Let me think..." Rose pondered for a few moments before coming up with her answer. "Well, I suppose it was really just a casual meeting. She was on the ship, and so were we. I guess the time when we really talked was at dinner one night. The night Jack came--" Rose cut herself off in mid-sentence. "Sorry," she said softly.

"Please, continue," John reassured her.

"The night Jack came to dinner. Molly had lent him a tuxedo," she said simply. "The night before that was when I...I tried to kill myself. I was trying to jump off the back of the ship. Basically, Jack talked me down. That was when we first met. I slipped and he caught me, but when he finally pulled me back over, we landed in a...compromising position." Rose became embarrassed, but continued. "Some crewmen came and saw, and assumed he..." Rose cleared her throat, not wanting to say what they really had thought. "When they had gotten hold of Cal, I made up some story. Saying that I was leaning over to see the propellers and that I had slipped. For his troubles, Cal invited him to dinner the next evening." As Rose finished, she looked up at John for reassurance.

"Ah…I see," John said with a smile. "I know Jack meant a great deal to you. He sounds like a great guy. I would have liked to have met him. And...he brought me to you. For that I will always be thankful."

Rose smiled and let out a sigh of relief. She had been afraid that John would not understand, that he would tell her she was foolish and didn’t know what she was doing. But he didn’t. He really understood.

"That really means a lot to me," Rose said softly. John just smiled sweetly at her and nodded his head once. He knew what she meant by that. She was thankful that he accepted Jack.

"Tell me...what did Jack do?"

"In terms of what?" Rose asked, confused.

"Working means," he explained.

"Well, he was an artist, actually. He traveled from place to place, just sketching and such. It did not make him much money, but I know he loved doing it. I could see the passion in his eyes every time he talked about it." Rose smiled at him, and he gave her a sweet smile back.

"Oh, my." Rose remembered. "We still have this wonderful breakfast to eat." Rose placed Hope on John’s lap and brought the tray over from the foot of the bed.

All three took in a delightful meal as a family.

Chapter Eleven
Stories