“I know where your parents are buried,” Mark told Jack, who kept his eyes on the floor. He became quiet, not knowing exactly what to say or do. He had nothing prepared and had no idea what he would do when he reached the graves. What could he do? They were dead.
Jack raised his eyes to meet Mark’s and took a took deep breath. “Where are they?” he asked.
Mark hesitated for a moment before answering. “Up at the graveyard near your old house. You remember the place?” Jack nodded weakly. “When your father died, they put your mother’s ashes in with your father. Apparently, it was your father’s wish.”
Jack had had no idea about anything that Mark had told him. “Did you attend the funeral?”
Mark sighed and took a seat at the kitchen table. He pressed his lips together, not sure of how much information he should divulge, knowing how painful the memories were for Jack, even though it was many years ago. “Yeah, I did, with Pa. It wasn’t nice, Jack…people talked.”
Jack raised his eyebrows. “They talked?”
“Yeah. You know, saying that…well, that you should have been there. You shouldn’t have run off.”
“Run off? I felt I was to blame for my father’s death. I was fifteen years old!” Jack snapped, rubbing his forehead, feeling a migraine coming on. He knew how narrow-minded the people in town were. That fact never changed.
“Hey, I know that. But you know what some folks are like. Don’t listen to what they have to say,” Mark told Jack. “You want to know something?” Jack leaned in closer to Mark, who spoke quietly, not wanting his wife to hear what he was about to tell Jack. “When I met Abigail, she wasn’t so common. She was from back east, from a wealthy family. She left her family behind to marry me. The gossips around here made her feel unwelcome, as though she had sinned in some Goddamned way.”
Jack frowned, remembering his feelings when he had met Rose. She had been an upper class girl and he hadn’t believed he would ever have a chance with her. “That’s terrible.”
“It wasn’t until the baby was born that people began to accept her. If we had never had Chelsea, I think the gossips would have become more vicious.”
Jack shook his head in disbelief. “The bastards. They can say what they want about me, but they had better not say anything about Rose or our son. I have come back for myself, and they won’t drive us away. I came here to make peace, and that’s exactly what I’m going to do.”
Mark hadn’t seen Jack so unyielding before. Long gone was the kid he knew. “You have the right attitude, Jack.”
He remained silent, still rubbing his temples. His father and mother came into his head, just smiling at him, looking exactly like they had before his mother had died. God, how much he missed them even to this day. He hadn’t allowed himself to mourn for them. Instead, he had taken off and done everything he could to forget them, but now that he was back, he was faced with reality.
“So, when are you going to see the graves?”
Jack shook away his thoughts. “I don’t know. I still feel as though I’m not ready, but I want to go soon. I would like Rose to come. I need her there.” He wasn’t ashamed to admit how much he needed his wife. “I don’t think Will is old enough to understand what is happening here. He thinks it’s just a vacation, but he keeps asking where the beach is. He’s used to living right by the sea.”
Mark smiled a little at Jack’s son. He was the mirror image of Jack, that was certain. “He seems like such a shy boy.”
“Oh, he can be. Once the doors are shut and only Rose and I are around, though, he has orders for us.” He laughed. “Oh, and girls—he’s taken a dislike to anyone who won’t play his way.”
“Chelsea is just the same. It’s her way or not at all.” Mark laughed, shaking his head.
It was surreal, speaking to Jack now, in their hometown, with their wives and children in the next room. He thought for a moment about what Jack had lost at such an early age. It was a shame that he had to return over ten years later to come to terms with it.
“Say, Jack, I think you should go now…”
“Go where?”
“To the place that you have to go. If you put it off any longer, I think it will eat you up inside. I think you and Rose should go and leave Will here. We can watch him for a couple of hours.” Mark stood and moved aside the curtains. “The rain seems to have stopped, at least for a little while.”
Jack raised his eyebrows and held his breath for a moment. Could he do this now? Was he ready for it? “I don’t know…besides, I can’t leave Will with you. He gets upset when Rose and I leave him, and I doubt he’ll play with Chelsea.”
Mark walked to the kitchen door and opened it, peering through the door of the parlor. Abigail and Rose were looking through old photos and sipping glasses of wine while Will and Chelsea were playing with some teddy bears next to the fire, hosting a tea party for them.
Mark smiled and shook his head at the children. “It all appears to be fine to me, Jack.”
Jack came to the parlor to see what Mark meant. He saw his son playing with Chelsea.
“It’s amazing. He doesn’t like girls, or teddy bears, for that matter. All he has at home is toy soldiers.”
Jack laughed. His eyes traveled to Rose, who sat with a glass of wine in her hand, laughing at some photos. She looked so happy at the moment. Jack thought about whether or not he should mention going to the graves. Could he go alone? But he doubted he would even be able to go halfway without turning back, feeling the pain in his heart.
Jack turned to see Mark. He had a look on his face that showed he was right. Jack nodded a little. “All right. I’ll go now.”
Mark touched Jack’s shoulder. “Good. William will be all right with us. We can make him some supper and keep him entertained for a few hours.”
*****
Rose felt Jack grasp her hand even tighter as the church loomed. The building appeared old and almost creepy under the gray sky. They stopped at the church gates and Rose looked at Jack to see if he was all right. She knew he was nervous from the look on his face, so she squeezed his hand back. He looked at her, smiling a little.
Jack took a couple of seconds to build up the courage to actually put one foot in front of the other to walk inside the church gates. Mark had told Jack exactly where the graves were. He could feel his heart pounding and his stomach churning. He kept focusing on the reason he was there and hoping that soon he would have left all feelings of guilt behind forever.
Leading Rose into the churchyard, he headed in the direction that Mark had told him to go. As far as the eye could see, gravestones were sticking up from the ground.
Rose felt herself shiver. She was still holding Jack’s hand as he led her to the very end of the graveyard. She swore the air was growing colder. The sky threatened more rain. Rose hoped they could leave before it rained so they wouldn’t catch their deaths, but if it meant staying with Jack all night, she would stay with him there.
He stopped suddenly in his tracks, startling Rose. She looked at him, wondering if they had found the right graves.
Jack immediately felt the tears burn his eyes. Just seeing their names on the marble headstone was enough to make him want to be sick. Slowly, he let go of Rose’s hand. Just then, the tears began to flow freely from his bleary eyes.
He could almost see his mother now, her long, blonde curls tight in a bun, her smile as bright as it always had been. She had seen no wrong in anyone. He knelt down beside the grave and leaned forward, putting his head in his hands and letting out the most heart wrenching sob Rose had ever heard.
She picked up her skirts and knelt beside him. Hesitantly, she put her right hand on his back to let him know she was there for support. He ignored her. She removed her hand from his back, knowing just how much he was grieving now. She wished she could do something to help him. She cried silent tears, but knew that she couldn’t say anything about the pain she felt, seeing her husband mourn finally for the loss of his parents. She had to let Jack mourn first. She had never seen him so hysterical.
She knew just how much he was hurting inside. It was a good thing they had left William behind. He shouldn’t see his father right now.
Jack felt as though his insides had been ripped out. He could see his father’s dead body, cold and blue, being pulled from the lake. “Pa, I’m so sorry…” Jack touched his father’s name on the marble. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t save you.”
Rose placed her hand hesitantly on his back again. He squeezed his eyes shut, feeling the warmth of her touch. “I can’t blame myself anymore for his death, Rose…” he spoke between sobs. “I can’t go on like this.”
“I know that. It’s why we came here today, darling,” Rose told him, stroking his back. “I just want you to make some sort of peace with this.”
Nodding, Jack, leaned forward and touched the letters of his mother’s name. Edith Dawson. Next to his mother’s and father’s names was his brother’s. Steven Harry Dawson, Born Sleeping, 17th November 1905.
“Your father wouldn’t blame you for this, nor would he want you to blame yourself,” Rose told him. Slowly and shakily, Jack reached over his shoulder and touched Rose’s hand.
“It’s so hard being here. To see their graves is just…” He couldn’t describe the pain that he felt.
“I know, darling, but maybe you will find some peace now.”
Jack struggled to get to his feet. When he did, he felt dizzy. He couldn’t see through his tears.
Rose saw the grief in her husband’s face, which she touched gently. “I’d do anything for you, Jack. I would stay here to live if that’s what you wanted.”
Jack shook his head violently. “No. I can’t stay here, Rose. The memories are too bad.”
“But we’d make new ones. We have our son. We can create new memories here, down by the lake…we can take him fishing and teach him to grow up like you did, Jack.” Rose kissed his cheek gently before leaning her head on his shoulder. “All I want is for you to be happy,” she added, quietly.