Dearest Rose,
I cannot tell you how I happy I am to hear of the safe arrival of my second grandson, although my happiness also comes with pain. Nathan passed away three days ago of a heart attack, and also with this comes shock. My husband has left the art gallery, which he ran for five years, to Jack. I don’t know how much it is worth, but he wanted Jack to have it. He can do what he likes with it, since it now belongs to him. It has a wonderful collection of art from around the globe. Nathan traveled himself to select which art he showcased and took great pride in the building. The funeral is next weekend and I would like for you to attend if you can. It is a lot to ask of you after just having your second child, but I would like to see the only family I have left.
Love,
Your Mother
“Oh, my Lord!” Rose gasped, dropping the letter on the table.
Jack’s eyes darted to Rose, wondering what was wrong. “What is it?” he asked, looking at the letter and wondering what on earth could have startled her so much.
Rose handed the letter to Jack, who skimmed it quickly. “Nathan Hockley has died and left the gallery to you. Mother doesn’t know how much it is worth, but it’s all yours.”
Jack thought he was hearing things. “Why would he leave it to me? I’m nothing to him.”
“I don’t know, but it’s yours, Jack. Do you want it?” she asked, taking the letter from him. Jack said nothing at all, just not understanding why it would be left to him. “I think we should go see my mother to attend the funeral.”
Jack sighed, standing. “I didn’t know the guy. We met twice.”
“No, maybe not, but he was my mother’s husband. They were good to us, to me. When you were at war, my mother stayed with me through my time of need, so I think we should do the same for her. I have to go, and I can’t just leave the children here with you while I go…please, Jack,” she pleaded with him.
He shook his head, not believing they had to go to Philadelphia to attend the funeral of a man they barely knew. “All right. We’ll go. I don’t want the children at the funeral, though. It isn’t right for them. They’re too young,” Jack told her. “And I don’t have a suit to wear.”
“Jack, don’t try to wiggle out of this. You are coming to the funeral with me. I can’t go alone. My mother needs us right now. As for the children, I know Trudy will watch them for an hour or so.”
“Leave them with a maid? Rose, I’m sorry, but my children aren’t getting left with any strangers. Either you go or don’t, but I’m not.”
Rose sighed, hating the arguments she had with Jack. “She’s not a stranger. I have known her since I was a little girl. She was my friend. Jack, please, stop being so difficult.”
Just then, loud cries from the bedroom sounded. Jack took a look at Rose before going to tend to his son. His cries grew louder until Jack scooped him up into his arms. Rose watched Jack with his son and felt tears welling up in her eyes.
“Jack, don’t be difficult with me,” she said, almost whispering. Jack turned to her, knowing that he had been a little rough on her. “I just think I owe it to my mother. I don’t want to go, either. I gave birth four weeks ago. I feel tired and grumpy all of the time, and don’t get me started on how overweight I feel.”
Jack put Harry back in the crib before shaking his head at Rose. “I know how hard it is with two children. Harry’s just born and we’re up at all hours to feed him, but it’s what we have to do because we’re parents.” He stroked her face. “You are not overweight, or fat, or anything. You’re more beautiful now than ever. You’ve just had our son. You’re entitled to put on a little weight, and I love you no matter what.”
Rose felt tears come down her face and she leaned on Jack’s shoulder. “I know. I just feel huge.”
Jack kissed her forehead. “Don’t worry. Soon Harry will be walking, and we will be running around after him. You will lose some weight if that’s what you really want to do. Remember how much of a handful Will was? We have to do all that again.”
She laughed, remembering how much Will ran off as a toddler. Once he had discovered he had legs, he was wandering off everywhere.
“And we have Will, too. So, it’s twice as much work.”
“Then we have the packing and shopping to do,” Jack told her, squeezing her hand.
Rose lifted her head from Jack’s shoulder and frowned, not understanding him.
“Well, I need a suit for the funeral, and we need to take clothes to your mother’s.” He smiled at her.
“So, you’ll come?”
“Of course I’ll come. Besides, I want to see what this gallery is all about. If the old man left it to me, then I will have to take a look.”
Mother,
We will arrive in Philadelphia on Friday in time for the funeral. I hope you are all right, but I will be with you soon. We are bringing the children, so you will be able to meet your new grandson. The train from Wisconsin to Philadelphia will take a few days, but meet us at the station around noon on Friday. We will also need a car. With the suitcases we have to bring, we will certainly have our hands full. Jack is willing to accept the gallery if he likes what he sees, but he won’t be running it from Philadelphia. There is so much to discuss, but for now, I send my love.
Rose
Rain beat down heavily as the mourners were leaving the churchyard. Nathan Hockley had been laid to rest next to his son, Caledon. Ruth had kept her brave face in front of the other people of society, who all attended the funeral.
Rose held the black umbrella over her and her mother’s head. Jack stood at the back in his black suit. He had never been to a funeral, but he knew that most of the people who had come here today weren’t mourners, or lending support to Ruth. They simply wanted the gossip, to see how Ruth was so they could talk about it at their petty clubs. Ruth kept herself together in front of everybody, but it was Rose who knew that below the surface she was about to crack.
Back at the house, members of the Hockley clan gathered around a large table in the dining room. The rest of the mourners were left in the living area to chatter and enjoy some refreshments while the will was read out to the family in private. Most of them simply came back to the house to see what the outcome of the will was, and if anything would be left to the Dawsons. Most of the chatter was about how tragic it was that Hockley had died, but as Jack walked through the crowds of people, he wondered if any of them cared at all.
Hockley’s attorney, Jeff Guard, sat everyone around the table in the dining area. Present at the will reading were Ruth, Rose, Ethan and his wife, Caitlin. Nathan’s half-brother, Jonathon, and Jack joined them moments later.
“By my hand, on this twenty-fourth day of November in the year of 1919. Nathan Patrick Hockley.” Guard looked up from the will at the members of the family around the table. “Fifty-eight million dollars.” Ruth put her hand to her chest, not having realized just how much money her husband was worth. “Mr. Hockley leaves twenty million to his wife, Ruth DeWitt Hockley, twenty million to his only living son, Ethan, and also two million each for Ethan’s sons, Michael and George.” He continued to look over the will. “The half-sibling, Jonathon, receives ten million. Also he leaves two million to the church of which Mr. Hockley was a member. The remaining two million…” He wiped his head, hesitating. “…is left to Mrs. Rose Dawson, nee DeWitt Bukater, and her husband, Jack Dawson.” The whole table seemed to look at each other silently, not exactly sure of what to say.
Ethan stood and slammed his hand against the table. His wife, Caitlin, appeared frightened. “This is bullshit!”
Jack felt sick as he felt Rose’s eyes on him. Two million dollars? The attorney looked at Jack in his not-so-fancy suit.
“So, do you think you can handle that kind of money, Mr. Dawson?” he asked.
Jack could almost hear the mocking in his voice. He felt his fist clench and looked at Rose, who said nothing.
Ruth cleared her throat. “It was my husband’s money. He should be able to leave it to whomever he wishes.”
“But this is bullshit. These people don’t even know my father, did nothing for him. Why would he leave that kind of money to strangers—the same amount he left to both of my boys, who are blood related!” he spat. Caitlin stood, putting her hand on his arm, but he waved her away.
“I don’t want the money anyway,” Jack spoke out. “It’s his damn money. I have never taken a penny from anyone in my life and I’m not about to start now. I support my wife and sons by working for a living. I mean, two million dollars? I wouldn’t even know what to do with that kind of money.”
“You don’t understand, Jack.” Ruth stood. “My husband wanted you to have that money. There are already hundreds of people employed to look after that kind of money for you.”
“What do you know, Ruth? Because he’s your son-in-law, you kiss his backside. Look at him. He looks like he hasn’t had a decent meal in his life.” Ethan shook his head.
Jack felt his fist clench. He quickly attempted to hit him, but was dragged back by Jonathon.
“Look at you, fighting over the damned money. Ethan, you should contest. I’ll get you the finest lawyers and we’ll fight it all the way if we have to,” Guard told him.
“What do you think?” Ethan turned to his Uncle Jonathon, who simply shrugged.
“You will do no such thing. You can live here, have this house and the whole twenty acres,” Ruth told him, her voice sharp. “You should be ashamed, fighting over money. My son-in-law will take the money.”
Rose stood next to her mother, having remained silent so far amongst the arguing. “I don’t want Nathan’s two million dollars.” She looked at Jack, her face like he had never seen it before.
“That settles it, then.” Ethan smiled.
“No, it doesn’t,” the attorney continued. “The steel business will be left to his only son, Ethan. The house is left to his wife, Ruth, and the gallery, in which he took so much pride in his later years, is left to…Jack Dawson.”
A smile appeared on his face. “I may not want the Goddamned money, but the gallery is mine. The ideas were mine and I shall take pride in running the gallery.” Jack crossed his arms firmly, glad to wipe the smug looks off their faces.
“I can contest. I can take you all the way to the cleaners,” Ethan threatened.
“Try me,” Jack said simply, looking at Rose, who held her mother’s shaking hand.
“Oh, for goodness sake! Is that all you care about? The money? Your father is dead and you are fighting over money. Aren’t you happy with what you have? You inherited the business that made your father the richest man in Philadelphia, and your sons will inherit that, too. So, be happy!” Ruth snapped, turning to leave the room.
“No, Mother. Don’t leave. Don’t be turned out of the room by these people. This is your house.”
Ruth didn’t listen to her daughter. Instead, she pulled the door open and came face-to-face with the people of society, all looking at her with curiosity. How much did she get from her husband? It was all about money.
Tears in her eyes, Ruth ignored the stares and headed for the veranda, a place that Nathan had had built especially for her, a place that he filled with roses, just for her. Rose followed her mother while Jack came face to face with the stares of the people. He didn’t have time for this. He walked straight through the crowd, not acknowledging anyone. He was going to find Trudy and his sons.
Outside, Ruth felt tears run down her cheeks. She hadn’t cried in years. Nothing had ever pierced her heart to cause so much pain.
Rose’s heels clicked as she came down the stone steps to the veranda. She looked around at the beautiful place, the scent of roses washing over her. “Mother, what is it?” She came up behind Ruth.
“They think they have won, Rose. Ethan and his big mouth!” Ruth sobbed. “His father dies and all he wants is a fight.”
Rose pulled her mother towards her. “Let him have the money. Jack and I will never take it.”
“But then all of your life you’ll never quite be up there with the Hockleys. You will be known as my daughter, who didn’t take the money when she had the choice to. You’ll never quite be one of the ladies.”
“I don’t want to be one of them. To be cruel and selfish like Caitlin—how could you even think I’d want to be like that?”
Ruth touched her daughter’s face. “I don’t want you to be one of them, Rose. I just want you to be happy. You have to make a life that you want with your husband and two sons.” Ruth wiped away her tears. “I want Jack to have the gallery, to make it his own and to keep Nathan’s spirit alive around here somehow. I don’t want it to fall into disrepair, especially when he took so much pride in it later in his life.”