MAKING IT COUNT
Chapter Six

A Magical Night
That Evening

Rose looked herself over in the full length mirror. Her burgundy-colored dress flattered her figure and brought out the color in her cheeks...it was perfect.

As she ran the powder brush across her nose, she heard John knock at the door. Was he always early?

"I’m almost ready, John," she called from inside. "You can come in."

Rose put down the powder brush and picked up her only pair of real diamond earrings. Leave it to Molly for the extravagant gifts.

John walked into the room just in time to see Rose putting her earrings on in front of her mirror.

"Just what do you have hiding behind your back?" Rose asked John curiously, seeing him in her mirror.

"Oh, nothing," he said innocently.

Rose turned around and walked towards him. She playfully tried to get his hands from behind his back, but John was too quick for her.

"All right. I give up," Rose said finally. She walked to her vanity to grab her matching handbag. By the time she had turned back around, John was standing right there in front of her, holding a bouquet of crimson roses.

"Oh, John," she said softly. "They’re beautiful." Rose bent down to smell them.

"Not nearly as beautiful as you." Rose looked up to meet his gaze, which was moving in towards her.

John kissed her passionately and lovingly. When they at last parted, Rose started to giggle.

"What?" John asked.

Rose opened her mouth to talk, but she only giggled more. "I...you...there’s lipstick on your..." Rose stopped laughing and wiped his lips sensuously with her finger. John kissed her fingertip before she pulled away her hand.

"I…uh…I think we’d better go before we get carried away," Rose said seriously.

"Yeah," John agreed. "I have a carriage waiting for us downstairs." He smiled at her.

"How delightful." She smiled back.

*****

"Here we are," John said as they pulled up in front of the restaurant. "The very same place I first told you that I loved you."

They both stepped out of the carriage, and John tipped the driver.

"Oh, John, you’re so sweet." Rose kissed him on the cheek, not wanting to show too much affection in public.

They walked into the restaurant, arms linked. "Good evening, sir," the host spoke.

"Good evening," John replied. "Calvert, party of two."

The man ran his finger through the reservation book until he came across Calvert. "Right this way, sir." The man showed them to a candlelit table in the corner of the restaurant. Being so close to Christmas, and given the time, the restaurant was very busy.

"Your waiter will be with you shortly. Enjoy your meal," he said before he walked away.

"What are you in the mood for, Rose?" John asked as he looked over the menu.

"Oh, I don’t know. Let’s see..." Rose scanned the menu herself. She looked over the various entrees. One thing caught her eye.

"Mmm…the veal parmesan looks good," Rose said casually.

"All right, then."

Just then, their waiter showed up. "Good evening, sir, ma’am. Can I take your order?"

"Yes. We’ll start out with some fried calamari, and I’ll have shrimp scampi with pasta on the side."

"And for the lady?" The waiter looked at Rose.

"I’ll have the veal parmesan with a baked potato," she said with a polite smile.

"And can I get you something to drink?" he asked while still scribbling on his pad.

"A bottle of champagne, please...on ice."

"Yes, sir. I’ll bring it right out." The waiter left, and Rose looked at John, surprised.

"Champagne, huh? What are we celebrating?" she asked with a smile.

"Life," John replied simply.

"Good enough for me. I take it you enjoy seafood?"

"Oh, yes," he said, smiling. "I like everything. Clams, shrimp, scallops, lobster...all of it."

"Hmm…I’m not much of a seafood eater, but every now and then I have some. What is this...fried calamari?"

"You’ll see. Just try some. You’ll love it," he reassured her.

"Well, I’ve never had it, so I’ll trust you."

Their waiter came walking by with their bucket of ice with champagne in it, and, of course, two glasses.

"Here we are," the waiter said as he placed the bucket and glasses on the table. "Your meal will be ready shortly." With that, he left again.

Rose looked about the dining room as John poured the champagne. Everything was so magical. The surroundings, people--families dining together, Christmas music playing in the background. It was perfect.

"Are you all right, Rose?"

"Oh, yes." She returned her gaze to John. "I just love the holiday season...so magical, don’t you think?"

"Yes, very much so. It’s always been my favorite holiday. And this year…" He placed his hand on top of Rose’s. "I have someone to spend it with." He picked her hand up and kissed the back of it sweetly.

Rose smiled and picked up her champagne glass. She held it up and began to speak. "To love, trust, and happiness."

"To us," John joined in. They clicked their glasses together, and each took a small sip.

"I’d better watch out," Rose said. "Too much of this stuff makes me tipsy, especially on an empty stomach."

"Well, that goes double for me."

"You, too, eh? No offense, but I don’t think the two of us being plastered, living under the same roof for the time being, would make a good combination," Rose said, half-joking, half-warning.

"No, I don’t suppose so," he agreed.

The waiter came by and set the calamari in front of them, barely able to get a word in because he was in such a hurry.

"Here." John picked up a piece. "Try this."

Rose opened her mouth and John placed it in her mouth, very sensuously. Rose eyed him playfully and chewed.

"Mmm…this is good. What exactly is it?"

"Squid," John said simply.

"No, really, what is it?"

"It’s squid," he repeated.

Rose coughed slightly. "Oh," she said, surprised. "Well, that’s a first. I guess as long as it tastes all right..." Rose reached her hand out to take another one.

John sat there, half-puzzled. All the other women, or even men he had known, had refused to eat it after he had told them what it was. But Rose...she dug right in.

"What?" Rose asked, reading the expression on his face.

"Nothing," he said with a smile.

"When’s your birthday?" Rose asked out of nowhere.

"What?" he asked, bewildered.

"If you can come up with what’s your middle name, I can ask what’s your birthday," she explained.

"Fair enough. January fourteenth. When’s yours?"

"You’re quite close to Hope’s. She was born on the seventeenth. Of January, of course. My birthday is July nineteenth."

"Rose," John said reluctantly. "Can I ask you something rather personal?"

"All right."

"Who was Hope’s father?"

Rose was not stunned by the question at all. She had been expecting John to ask it a long time ago.

She sighed before speaking. She looked away from John. "His name was Jack Dawson, and I loved him very much."

John waited for Rose to say more, but she did not. So, he took the liberty of asking on. "Do you still love him?" John looked down, afraid of the answer.

"I will always love him, John. I can’t deny that. But he’s gone and you’re here. I’ve moved on. I love you." Rose looked at him as he lifted his eyes to hers.

"I’m sorry, Rose. I shouldn’t have asked that question."

"No, it’s all right. I’m surprised you didn’t ask some time ago." Rose gave him a reassuring smile.

Underneath the table, Rose slipped her foot out of her loose fitting shoe. She ran her foot up and down John’s leg under his pant leg.

John looked at her with surprised eyes. She was grinning at him playfully.

"Rose," he said through his teeth. "That’s not fair."

"Whatever do you mean?" she asked innocently, without stopping.

"You know exactly what I mean, Miss Seductress." She just smiled and continued to stroke his leg. She took a gulp of her champagne, never removing her eyes from John’s.

"Why do you torture me so?" he asked with a sigh.

"Because it’s fun to see you squirm," she replied with a giggle.

Just then, their food arrived. John rolled his eyes at her and reached under the table. He found Rose’s foot and started to tickle it. Rose, being extremely ticklish, instantly jerked her leg back with a giggle.

"Later," he said simply. "Let’s eat before this gets cold, okay?"

"Yes, sir," she said sarcastically.

*****

The carriage pulled up in front of 1340 Pennsylvania Avenue at around eleven o’clock that evening. John and Rose had taken a ride before heading home, causing their late arrival.

After the couple went up the stairs, they walked into John’s bedroom, not wanting the night to end.

Rose lay down on John’s bed and stared at him as he casually removed his coat and tie. It was taking nearly all of Rose’s self control to not start undressing him. Remember where it got you last time, Rose, she reminded herself. But last time was different, she thought.

She turned to her other side and stared out the window. The stars were shining beautifully.

John came into her vision and sat on the bed next to her. "Why don’t you go to your room and change into something more comfortable? I’ll do the same. Then we can talk the night away. What do you say?"

"All right." Rose stood up. "I’ll be right back." She kissed him quickly before she ventured into her room.

She opened the door quietly, not wanting to disturb Hope. She peeked into her suitcase. She had to find her most attractive nightgown. After searching for a second, she found it. It looked very similar to the one that she had had a long time ago...she had worn it when Cal had given her the necklace.

Rose changed as quickly as she could, remembering to take off her stockings and jewelry. Then she walked down the hallway and knocked on John’s door. "Come in."

John looked at her as she entered his room...her red curls hanging down over her shoulders, the rest of her covered in white lace.

Rose, suddenly feeling self-conscious, ran her fingers through her hair.

"Wow," was all John was able to say.

"Is that good or bad?" she asked, unsure of herself.

"Good, very good. You look beautiful." He walked towards her slowly. He took both her hands in his, their bodies close to each other. Rose looked down, unsure of what they were really doing. John lifted her chin so that she was looking at him. He kissed her sweetly at first, and then with growing passion.

Rose breathed heavily through her nose as she threw both her arms around John’s body. John placed his hands on the small of Rose’s back and pulled her against him tighter. Then he did something Rose did not expect; he pulled away.

Rose looked at him, bewildered. "Rose, we have to stop. Do you remember what happened last time? I...I couldn’t take that again. I just couldn’t." John looked as if he was going to cry.

"John...that was different. We...I…" she corrected herself. "I didn’t know what I wanted then. Or I thought I knew what I wanted, anyway. But I know this time, John. I know what I want."

"And what do you want, Rose?"

"You." Rose kissed him, but he again pulled away.

"Rose...you live in New York and I live in Iowa. If we do this, where does it leave us? Hmm?"

"A sweet memory," she said softly. She paused, then continued. "We’ll figure something out. I don’t want to live without you. And I also know that I want you...all of you, right now," Rose said very bluntly.

John looked at Rose. She was beautiful. He knew she wasn’t going to run away from him this time.

He at last locked his lips with Rose’s with more urgency than Rose had ever known. John suddenly scooped Rose up into his arms, and gently lay her down on the bed. Rose pressed her lips back up against John’s, locking her tongue with his.

They both whispered an I love you before committing to a beautiful night of passion--the night held no regrets.

Chapter Seven
Stories