Jack’s footsteps echoed around the gallery as he inspected it. The décor was exactly as Jack had suggested Nathan decorate it when he and Rose had visited when William was just a baby. Jack was amazed by the huge collection of art that Nathan had possessed. It was only now that he realized this gallery had been more than a business for Nathan. He had obviously taken great pride in running it during his later years. The entire room was painted white, with light wood floors making the space appear airy.
In the far corner of the gallery, something caught Jack’s eye. He squinted and headed closer to inspect it, coming across a portrait of Ruth, apparently drawn by a local artist who, he had to admit, had captured her perfectly. Not taking his eyes away for a few moments, he realized he felt at home here in this place, which was something he hadn’t expected.
Another drawing caught his attention, this time of Nathan and Ruth. Crossing his arms across his chest, he found himself becoming lost in the world of art, something he hadn’t done in a long time.
Footsteps sounded behind him, echoing throughout the entire building, but Jack didn’t take his eyes off the art. He could sense who it was and could feel their presence behind him. He heard the footsteps grow closer.
“I never understood what you artists see in this place.”
Jack turned his head away from the drawing, not unfolding his arms. Ethan stood in his sharp suit with his arms by his side and his hair perfectly in place. In contrast to Jack, he was dressed much more fancily, something Jack had never understood.
“You’re not an artist. You can’t understand,” Jack began, unfolding his arms. “Besides, this building is nothing more than money for you.”
Ethan watched the man in front of him. He was slightly rough-looking, definitely not one who would socialize at the club along with him and his associates. “What do you want with this gallery, Dawson? How would you even know how to run a business?” Ethan smiled, feeling a little pleased with himself. The business was bound to be run into the ground by Dawson anyway, and when it was, he could buy it right away.
“I ran a gallery in Santa Monica and another in Chippewa Falls. They did well. I have made money from drawing for most of my life, something that you wouldn’t understand, having lived off your father’s money,” Jack stabbed.
Ethan felt angry, knowing Jack wasn’t at all fazed by his little jabs. He came closer to Jack, his dark eyes just like Cal’s. “Why do you get the damned gallery? You were nothing to my father. You came in here like you are all family, when you’re absolutely nothing to us.”
“My wife’s mother married your father, in case you had forgotten. My wife is here to support her mother through this terrible time, as she is actually grieving for her husband. As for me, I am here to lend a hand where I can,” he told Ethan, his fists clenched. He could so easily have swung at Ethan, but he knew he wouldn’t lower himself. “This gallery is mine in the eyes of your father. When my son, William, was born, your father bought this place. He offered for me to run it with him, to move here and become his partner.”
Ethan’s eyes widened. He wasn’t telling the truth. His father wouldn’t have made a business decision without consulting his son first. “You Goddamned liar.”
“I turned it down because Rose and I were raising our son. I didn’t want to take the guy’s money and never will. But now the gallery is mine, and whatever money it makes will be mine.”
“I can take you to court. I can fight it all the way,” Ethan threatened, but his words meant nothing to Jack.
“I already signed the papers. There’s nothing you can do.” Jack smiled smugly, turning away from Ethan.
*****
Baby Harry’s cries calmed as soon as his mother scooped him into her arms. They quieted and then subsided as Rose soothed him. Jack watched as his wife sat on the edge of their bed, pulling down the left shoulder on her dress before offering her breast to her son. He suckled more often than William had as a baby, which left her feeling exhausted.
The effect of the last few days had taken its toll on both of them, but Rose the most. She had comforted her grieving mother and taken care of their two sons while Jack had been at the gallery for most of the day.
He felt guilty. Removing his shirt, he threw it into a small basket in the corner of the room before sitting beside Rose on the bed. He put his arm around her shoulders and felt her lean her head slightly on his shoulder, careful not to disturb their son as he finished nursing.
“He’s a greedy baby.” Jack smiled quietly. He slowly reached out and touched his son’s head, feeling how smooth it was, except for the small tuft of dark blond hair which he had been born with.
“I know.” Rose yawned tiredly. “I haven’t felt so tired in years, not even when Will was a baby.”
Jack kissed her forehead lightly. Harry stopped suckling, indicating he had finished his dinner. Carefully, Rose sat him upright on her knee and began to rub his back gently until she heard a tiny noise, indicating that he had burped.
“I know you haven’t. I’ll put him to bed.”
Rose carefully handed their son to Jack. He let out a shrill cry, obviously not happy to be taken from the comfort of his mother’s arms. Jack stood up and walked slowly around the room, rocking him slightly.
“Get in bed, Rose. I’ll put Harry to bed and go check on William.”
Nodding, Rose began to undress in front of her husband, something she hadn’t done since giving birth to her youngest son. She still carried baby weight and felt the heaviest she had ever been. While Jack insisted she was more beautiful than ever, Rose doubted this very much, as she still felt like a whale. Tonight she was so tired, she didn’t have the energy to attempt to cover herself up.
Jack watched as she pulled back the covers of the bed, already half-asleep. He put Harry into the bassinette and rearranged his blanket so he would be warm before helping Rose into bed. William’s bedroom was next to theirs and he had been in bed for some time, the day’s events obviously tiring him out.
“Make sure Will is asleep,” Rose spoke. She murmured as she lay her head on the plump pillow, feeling her body ready to rest.
Jack knelt beside her, stroking a few of her loose curls. “Don’t worry. I will.” Jack smiled, watching as she closed her eyes, feeling her chest rising and falling. “Get some sleep. There’s some things we need to talk about tomorrow.”
Rose forced her eyes open. She, too, had to speak to Jack about some things. “I have something to discuss, too.”
Jack hushed her, stroking her hair. “We’ll talk tomorrow.”
Rose found strength from somewhere to sit upright in bed. Jack perched on the edge of the bed, knowing how stubborn his wife was.
“I’d rather talk now.”
“Go ahead, then, darling.” Jack touched her hand and stroked his thumb over it gently.
“Jack, I feel as though we should stay here for a while longer,” Rose said, expecting a bad reaction from Jack, since he hadn’t wanted to come there in the first place. “I just feel I cannot leave my mother so soon. She’s grieving and I don’t want her to be alone.”
Jack remained quiet for a moment, thinking about what Rose had said. “Actually, Rose, I wanted to ask you about that.” He paused for a moment. “Although I was going to suggest we move here.”
Rose suddenly felt awake. “Move here?”
“Yeah, maybe. I know it’s a big decision, but it would be nice for the kids to grow up with their family around, and of course it would be easier for me to run the gallery.”
“I didn’t think of that. Are you sure it would be what you want?”
Jack nodded, smiling at Rose. “I want what you want. I want you to be happy here.”
Rose hesitated. “I think I would like to live here.”
“It’s settled, then. We’ll talk more tomorrow, but go to sleep now, Rosie.”
Laying back down in bed, Rose felt a smile creep over her face.
“I’ll go check on Will. I’ll be right back. Good night, Rose.” He pecked her cheek lovingly and knelt beside the bed, knowing it wouldn’t be long before his wife was asleep.