A LOVE NEVER FADING
Chapter Thirty-Seven

November 2, 1914: London, England

Dearest Maggie,

I'm twenty years old today. Gracious, I feel so old. Jack and I are currently in London. I'm having so much fun, but I miss you and Brian. How are things in New York? Exciting, as always, I bet.

I read in the newspaper that Mr. Hockley is engaged to Ivy Wade. After three years, he finally found someone. The paper said he had been mourning my death. That's why it took him so long. That's the silliest thing I ever heard. Mr. Hockley is well aware that Jack and I are alive. They're getting married in May of 1915. Well, that's not part of my life now, so I don't feel anything. Jack asked me if I knew Ivy. I told him I did. She was the type of girl my mother always wanted me to be. She was like my mother.

Well, I must tell you about happier things. Jack and I were in a park last week, and he was being silly. He stood up on the edge of a fountain, and was pronouncing to the world that he loved me. I thought it was sweet, but it was dreadfully embarrassing. Then, while he's pouring out his heart and jumping around, he falls into the fountain. It was the funniest thing I have ever seen. He was soaked, and I couldn't help but laugh. I wish you and Brian could have seen it. Especially Brian. I know he would get kick out of seeing Jack sitting in a fountain with baffled Englishmen staring at him.

Now, I have to go. Jack and I are going out to eat. I'll write more in my next letter. I love you both and can't wait to hear from you again.

Love, Rose

November 26, 1914: Dublin, Ireland

My Dear Maggie,

Happy Thanksgiving. They don't celebrate it here, of course, but Jack and I did celebrate it ourselves. I hope you and Brian had a wonderful time with your families. As always, I miss you two.

I've been thinking about Erik recently. Is he all right? I'm sure he's fine. I just don't like the idea of him being alone for the holidays.

Ireland is absolutely beautiful, and the people are the most friendly people I have ever met. But, of course, you already know that because you're from here. We visited Kildare and found the farms you and Brian were telling us about. I can't believe I got to see the places you two grew up in. You would be happy to know they're very well kept.

I hope you and Brian are doing well. Tell Erik I miss him and thank him for his more than gracious gift.

Love, Rose

December 24, 1914: Paris, France

Dear Maggie and Brian,

Merry Christmas! I wish I could see you two. I love New York at Christmas. I hope you're keeping yourself busy but not too busy. Jack and I are having a wonderful time. It's amazing. The last time I was in Paris, I wanted to end it all, and now I wish the days would go on forever.

I read that my mother died a few weeks ago. I'm not even sad. I have barely even thought about it. I hope she didn't suffer, though. That's all I can say. I may not have loved her like a mother, but I still cared about her. I saw how my father suffered, and I would never want anyone to go through that.

I'm sorry to make this letter so short, but I'll write you again very soon. We're always thinking of you.

Love, Rose

January 1, 1915: Paris, France

My Dear Maggie,

Can you believe it's 1915 already? Paris at New Year's is amazing. They had the most incredible fireworks display I have ever seen. I hope this year will treat us well.

I must admit I'm terribly worried. As you well know, there is war all over Europe. So far we've been lucky. We haven't been exposed to anything. I'm glad that this is our last month in Europe. We're going to Australia next.

Hopefully America won't get involved. I would hate to think what would happen to us. I can't even think about it. It's too frightening.

Well, that's all for now. I'll write you soon.

Love, Rose

May 8, 1915: Sydney, Australia

Rose stared blankly at the headline. Lusitania Sinks in Eighteen minutes--over one thousand perish.

"Jack," she said quietly.

He walked over to the table. He was about to say something, but then he saw the headline. "Oh, my God," he said in a whisper.

Rose sat down. "I can't believe this. I can't believe it could happen again."

Jack picked up the newspaper and read the article. The Lusitania had sunk yesterday in only eighteen short minutes. It had been torpedoed by a German submarine. One thousand one hundred ninety-five had died. The article, of course, brought up Titanic.

"Jack, I'm scared. There's fighting going on all over the place. And we have to take ships all the time. This is dangerous."

"Hey." He kneeled down next to her chair. "Don't worry. There's no need to worry. Nothing is going to happen to us. I promise. This trip is too important for anything to ruin it--even a war."

"Jack..."

"Listen to me. Everything will be fine. America isn't involved in the war. We only have four more months of vacation, and it will be fantastic. All those letters you've sent to Maggie. All those letters she's sent to you. She has never mentioned the war. Everything will be fine. I promise." He put his hand on her cheek. "Are you having a good time?"

"The best time of my life."

"Now I know we won't have any problems."

"How do you know that?"

"Didn't you hear? God said, If Rose Dawson is having a good time, nothing is allowed to get in the way. So that's how I know. God said so." He smiled. "God looks out for his angels."

Rose smiled. "I love you."

"I love you, sweet angel."

Saturday, May 15, 1915: Brisbane, Australia

"How is your breakfast?" Jack asked across the table.

"It's delicious."

"Good." He smiled at her. "Rose?"

"Yes?"

"I love you."

"I know. I love you, too."

He laughed. "See, I was just reading the newspaper, and today is Cal's wedding to that girl, Ivy. It was talking about all the fancy things that they will have at the ceremony. Every time I read something about him, I just think how lucky I am to have you. You left all that for me."

"Jack, I saw what would be waiting for me on the other side. You. It was an easy choice."

"I'll tell you one thing, Rose, you sure know how to flatter a guy."

Saturday, May 15, 1915: Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

Cal stood at the end of the aisle. The bridal march began, and the church doors opened. Ivy stepped through. People gasped at the sight of her gown. It was fit for a queen. She walked towards Cal. There were over three hundred people present. All had been invited to Cal's first wedding. They had instead met for the funeral of Rose. Now they were meeting again for a wedding, this time to Ivy. There were whispers in the seats. Most of the guests were comparing Ivy to Rose.

Cal sighed as Ivy drew closer. He wished a thousand times that it was Rose walking towards him. For so many reasons. The first was that Rose had been the most popular girl in Philadelphia society. Every man wanted her, and every girl wanted to be her. The fact that Cal had won her made him even more revered. Ivy had been the second best, and with Rose's death, she was the obvious choice for his bride. Second, Cal hadn't realized how much Rose meant to him until she was gone. Third, he had never forgotten the Carpathia. Rose had chosen poverty and Jack over him.

I wonder what she's doing now, he thought.

Ivy made it to the altar. In no time, the ceremony was finished. The reception started, and Cal gave a toast. When he finished, he sat down and looked over at Ivy. I love you, Rose, he thought to himself. He wanted to be able to reach out and pull Rose into his arms. He felt empty inside. For the man who had everything, Cal finally knew what it was like to have nothing.

Chapter Thirty-Eight
Stories