FALLING STARS
Chapter Six

December 25, 1912

Rose awoke shivering. Pulling the blankets farther up over her, she momentarily wondered why. She wasn’t usually so cold when she awoke. Then, remembering the fight the night before, she realized why.

The small bedroom was unheated, which made it especially chilly on a winter morning, but usually she awoke covered by a heavy layer of blankets and snuggled up close to Jack. She had pulled off several of the blankets the night before and thrown them at Jack, and of course he wasn’t sleeping beside her.

Slowly, Rose sat up, the remaining blankets still clutched in front of her. She felt terrible about their fight, and knew that it was mostly her fault. She had been tired, worried, and--she admitted to herself--jealous of Louise, and she had let things be blown out of proportion. She wondered if Jack was still in the house, or if he had gone to find some friendlier place to sleep. She’d kill him if he had, she thought, and then immediately berated herself for being so suspicious. Rising from the bed, she pulled on her robe and shoes, and opened the curtains to look out the window.

A soft snow was falling outside, piling against the walls and the outer windowsill. The sun had risen, but it was dark enough to make the time impossible to tell. Still, Rose thought that it must be at least eight o’clock, as the sun rose late in the winter in this northern clime.

Pulling the chair away from the doorknob, she quietly opened the door and looked out. A few banked coals still burned in the fireplace in the front room, and it was warmer than the bedroom had been. A blanket-wrapped figure lay in the middle of the floor, sound asleep.

Rose approached Jack slowly, still feeling guilty about throwing him out of their bedroom. He had the blankets wrapped around him like a cocoon, his head lying on the pillow she had tossed out to him. The hard wooden floor must have been uncomfortable, but Rose guessed that he’d slept in so many strange places that a wooden floor was little problem. His blond hair was tousled, sticking out every which way, as if he’d tossed and turned for a long time before finally falling asleep.

Slowly, Rose lowered herself to the floor beside him, her unwieldy belly making it a difficult process. Moving to a sitting position, she shook him gently.

Jack awoke with a start, looking around him. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he looked at Rose.

"You finally decided to come out."

Rose nodded, unable to speak past the lump in her throat. Jack sat up, untangling himself from the blankets and looking around.

"What time is it?"

Rose finally found her voice. "Morning. What time I don’t know." She hesitated. "Jack...about last night...I’m sorry. I just blew up. I’m not even sure why."

"People’s comments are still bothering you, aren’t they?"

She nodded. "I still want to leave this place."

"I’ll try to find some other place in the spring."

"Thank you. I appreciate that."

"What is it about Louise that bothers you so much?"

Rose thought about that. "I don’t know. She’s your ex-girlfriend."

"Rose, we split up before I even left. It was years ago. We’re just friends now, and I have no interest in her as anything else."

"I know. I just...I guess I am a little jealous. She keeps showing up here, and you’re always so friendly..."

"I try to be friendly to everyone. My mother once commented that I never met a stranger."

"Why does she keep showing up anyway?"

"I think she wants to befriend you."

"Me?"

"Don’t act so shocked. Not everyone here is stuck up, you know."

"I know. But when I look at her...I mean, why wouldn’t you be interested? She’s slender, and pretty, and knows all about the kind of life you grew up with, while I’m fat, and ungainly, and could probably burn water if I tried hard enough. She’s the ideal woman for a man like you."

"Rose, you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. I thought so from the first time I saw you, standing on that deck above me, and you’re still beautiful. You aren’t fat, either, you’re just pregnant, and soon we’ll have a brand new baby. As to your domestic skills, or lack thereof, you should have seen some of the awful messes I made when I first left Chippewa Falls and had to learn to cook and do laundry for myself. You’re much more skilled than I was."

Rose smiled a little, picturing Jack trying to learn to cook. Remembering her own early attempts, she laughed. Her skills had certainly improved since then.

Jack got to his feet, his clothes rumpled from sleeping in them. He helped Rose up, then wrapped his arms around her, feeling the baby move inside her.

"I love you, Rose. Please try to believe that. I’m not interested in Louise, or anyone else, except you."

"I know. I’m just being kind of silly, I guess." She hugged him back. "I love you, too. Let’s not fight anymore. Truce?"

"Truce."

They stood there for a few for minutes, holding each other close, until Rose’s stomach growled hungrily. Giggling, she stepped back, remembering that she hadn’t eaten dinner the night before.

Jack gave her a quick kiss. "Why don’t we get dressed, and have some breakfast?" he suggested. "Then, after that...well, I got you a couple of Christmas gifts, and maybe we can build the fire up, and you can open them."

"That’s right! It is Christmas! I’d forgotten."

"See what happens when we fight?" he teased her.

Rose looked at him with mock annoyance. "Go get dressed. I’ll start breakfast."

By the time Jack came out of the bedroom, breakfast was almost ready. Rose had toasted some bread and cooked some eggs and bacon. Jack joined her at the table, regarding the food appreciatively.

"You see? You can cook," he told her, digging into his breakfast.

"Well, I’m going to try to cook something fancier tonight, so we’ll find out then."

"Let me know if you need any help."

"Count on it."

After breakfast, Rose got dressed, while Jack placed the gifts he had bought for her under the small tree and waited impatiently.

"Rose, come on! How long can getting dressed take?"

"You try getting dressed when you can’t see your feet!"

Finally, she emerged from the room, carrying a couple of wrapped packages herself. Jack had stoked the fire, and it burned brightly, filling the room with warmth. Rose slowly lowered herself to the floor beside him, preferring to sit close to Jack than to sit in one of the rickety wooden chairs that decorated the small room.

She handed one of the packages to Jack, placing the other beneath the tree. "Open mine first," she encouraged him.

Jack unwrapped it slowly, revealing a leather-bound portfolio. It wasn’t quite of as high a quality as the one he had lost when the Titanic sank, but it was still nice. Looking inside, he noted that Rose had stocked it with plenty of paper, as well as whatever art supplies she could find.

"Where did you get this?" he asked, wondering if any store in Chippewa Falls carried leather portfolios.

"I ordered it through a catalog back in October. I still had some money left from what Cal put in the coat, so I used it to buy this for you. I thought you’d like it."

"I do. This is really nice." He turned it over, examining it. "It’s almost like the one I left on Titanic."

"I know. That’s why I chose it. That portfolio seemed special to you."

"It was. My parents gave it to me for Christmas when I was fourteen, in 1906. I was out looking for things to draw when the fire started, which was why it, and I, survived. This really means a lot." A piece of paper had fallen out and landed on the floor, and he picked it up, reading what it said.

Jack,

I thought this would be special to you. I tried to find all the art supplies that you had before, but some of them couldn’t be found. I hope you like this, and maybe one of these days you can draw me like one of your French girls again. Merry Christmas.

With all my love,
Rose

Jack tucked the piece of paper back inside the portfolio, genuinely touched by Rose’s request. He knew that she still had the Heart of the Ocean, tucked safely away under a loose floorboard. He turned, looking closely at her, picturing how she would look wearing it now--if she would allow him to draw her in her present state.

"What?" Rose asked, seeing him looking at her.

"I was just thinking how you would look wearing the diamond now."

Rose blushed slightly, but was intrigued. "Could you draw me wearing it now?"

"Sure, but later. Right now, let’s open the rest of these gifts."

"All right, but...if you draw me now, I also want you to draw me again later, after the baby is born."

"Sure." He handed her one of her gifts.

Rose pulled the ribbon and paper off, careful to save it. It might be useful later. She opened the small box, her eyes lighting up when she saw the small gold pendant inside. Her mother would have turned her nose up at such an inexpensive piece of jewelry, but Rose was delighted with it. The pendant was in the shape of a bird in flight, hanging from a gold chain. She lifted it carefully from the box and reached to put it around her neck. Jack saw what she was doing and helped her, admiring the way the gold looked against her fair skin and red hair. It had been inexpensive, but he had thought she would like it. From her expression, he had guessed correctly.

"Thank you, Jack. It’s beautiful." Rose touched the delicate pendant, her fingers tracing the outline of the bird. She reached under the tree and pulled out the other gift she had found for him.

It was a small collection of cards with reproductions of paintings by well-known artists. Rose had found them in a store in Chippewa Falls and had purchased one of each, for a penny apiece. Represented were such artists as Picasso, Van Gogh, and Jack’s favorite--Monet. There were two pictures each from Picasso and Van Gogh, and three Monets, since Rose knew how much Jack admired his art.

Jack looked through them, admiring each one. The reproductions weren’t as exquisite as the real things, but the real paintings were far beyond their limited budget. One of the Monet pictures was a reproduction of one that Rose had purchased and taken with her on the Titanic.

Jack looked them slowly, examining each one, until Rose cleared her throat impatiently, looking at the last gift under the tree.

"Can’t wait, can you?" he teased her, handing it to her.

Inside was a drawing that Jack had made of her, standing in front of the house with a gentle breeze blowing through her hair. Rose wasn’t sure when he had completed it--there were flowers in the background, and her belly was softly rounded with their coming child. Probably early in the fall, before the frost had killed the flowers. It was carefully placed inside a wooden frame, with a glass panel protecting it.

Rose sat looking at it, admiring the attention to detail. She recognized the flowers that she had planted the previous summer, in her first attempt at gardening. Only a few had survived, but those had bloomed beautifully until the first frost.

"You can hang that on the wall, and that way our children will be able to see where we first lived."

Rose nodded, frowning a little and placing her hand on her swollen stomach. The baby kicked, a tiny foot connecting with her hand. Jack noticed her look.

"Still worried about the baby?"

She nodded. "That was one of things that was bothering me yesterday. What if something goes wrong?"

"Probably nothing will, and there is a doctor in Chippewa Falls."

"I know, but...sometimes they can’t help."

"That’s true, but the baby seems to be healthy and strong, from the way it kicks, and you’re healthy and strong, too."

"My mother had one baby after me, and it died at birth. Everything seemed normal, up until it was born. But it never cried, and later Father told me that my little brother had died. I was only five years old, but I still remember it."

"Any number of things could have gone wrong," Jack told her. "The baby could have been breech, or had something wrong with it that wouldn’t let it live outside its mother, or had the cord wrapped around the neck..."

"You’re not making things any easier."

"Sorry. But most of the time, things go fine, and it’s been almost thirteen years since your brother was born. They’ve learned some things since. You’re stronger than your mother was, too, and that should help."

Rose nodded, hoping that he was right. "I don’t know if I’m really stronger than Mother. She was always rather thin, but she got plenty of rest when she was carrying my brother, and things still turned out badly."

"A lot of women work hard when they’re pregnant, and have healthy babies. Some people say that hard work makes the mother stronger. It certainly works that way in animals."

"How do you know so much about these things?"

"I grew up on a farm. Farm kids learn a lot of things that city kids don’t. I was four years old the first time a saw a barn cat have kittens, and I’ve seen calves, foals, and puppies born since. I even saw a human baby born once, in a back alley in France."

"In an alley?"

"The mother was a prostitute, and was stuck having it alone. I hung around in case she needed help. Human babies are born a little differently from animals, but not that differently."

"Did she need help?"

Jack laughed at Rose’s expression. "No, she figured things out for herself. She thanked me for hanging around, though. I drew a picture of her later, nursing the baby."

"Will you try to be there when our baby comes? I know that doctors don’t usually want the father in the room, but I’d feel better if you were there."

"I can try. No promises, but I’ll try to be there."

"Thank you, Jack. Cal probably would have found all this extremely inconvenient."

"Good thing you didn’t marry him, then."

"No lie. Can you imagine how he would have reacted to being asked to raise your child?"

"I hate to imagine it."

"Me, too. I’m glad I got away from him."

Jack put his arms around Rose, pulling her close. "Merry Christmas, Rose."

"I love you, Jack."

*****

As he had promised, Jack drew a picture of Rose wearing the Heart of the Ocean and nothing else. She blushed a little when she removed her robe, her swollen mid-section seeming very prominent to her, but Jack had seen her unclothed enough times that she wasn’t too embarrassed. It was a little different being drawn in such a state from undressing quickly and slipping on other clothes, but after her initial embarrassment, she relaxed, posing artfully on the bed while Jack drew her portrait.

Afterwards, Rose got up with difficulty, coming forward to view the drawing. It looked beautiful, even her swollen belly, and Rose insisted that Jack keep it in his portfolio, where only they were likely to see it. Then, blushing, Rose asked Jack whether he knew if certain activities were possible in her very pregnant state.

They didn’t come out for another hour.

*****

Jack and Rose lounged around the house for most of the day. At around two o’clock, Rose started dinner, and Jack, remembering her comment about "slaving over the stove", helped her. They worked companionably for about an hour, until someone knocked on the front door.

Rose answered the door, and immediately felt her hackles raise as she saw Louise, carrying a pumpkin pie, standing at the door. Despite her conversation with Jack that morning, and despite his reassurances that she was the only one for him, she still didn’t want Louise around. The perfectly baked pie only highlighted her own inadequacies--she didn’t even know how to bake a pie--and she was tempted to slam the door in Louise’s face. Only years of training in self-control and politeness allowed her to smile tensely at Louise and invite her in.

Jack stepped out of the kitchen. "Rose? Who is it?" He noticed Louise and his wife facing off tensely and sighed, trying to diffuse the situation. He didn’t understand why Louise kept trying, when it was obvious that Rose didn’t like her, but Louise had always been one who tried to befriend everybody. The worse a person acted, the more she tried to reform them.

"Louise. Merry Christmas," Jack said to her. "What brings you out in the snow?"

"Mother and I baked pies yesterday, and I thought that you two might enjoy one of them."

Rose opened her mouth, and Jack sent her a warning look. Louise was only being friendly, and they had few enough friends in this town.

"Thank you," Rose told Louise stiffly. "It’s getting late, so I’m sure you’ll want to be getting home as soon as possible."

Jack grimaced at Rose’s rudeness. "Would you like some coffee before you go back out there?" he asked Louise, knowing that he was asking for another fit of temper from Rose.

"Uh...sure. Thanks." Louise was almost ready to give up on Rose. She had a good idea of why Rose disliked her, but she wasn’t sure what to do about it. Still, in a small town like Chippewa Falls, such animosity was likely to be noticed, and commented upon, and she wanted them to at least be friendly.

Rose marched Jack into the kitchen. "Why did you offer her coffee?"

"She’s a guest, and she went to the trouble of going out in the cold and bringing us this pie. It’s the least we can do. Most guests I would invite to stay for a while, but knowing how you feel about her, I’m only offering her coffee."

Rose took a deep breath and counted to ten. At the moment, she was more upset with Jack than with Louise, so she stalked out of the kitchen and into the front room.

Louise was sitting on one of the rickety wooden chairs, looking very uncomfortable. Rose walked over to the fireplace, added another stick of wood, and turned to glare at her.

"Why do you keep coming over here?"

Louise looked taken aback. "The first time I came by, it was because I’d just gotten back into town after being gone for several months visiting relatives. Someone told me that my old friend Jack Dawson was back in town, and I wanted to say hello."

"And confirm the rumors, no doubt."

"I will admit that I was curious about you. But I’m not going to judge you, or Jack, on the way you live, or how long it took you to marry, or the fact that you were expecting a baby before the wedding."

"You, of course, joined in the gossip."

Louise rolled her eyes. "I didn’t need to join in the gossip. People all over town were talking about you. It’s been a while since this town had a good scandal."

Rose opened her mouth to speak again, but Louise stopped her. "I don’t think you’re upset with me over the gossip, or the fact that you’re a source of delicious scandal for the small-minded members of this town. I’ve never said a word against you. I think the reason you’re so upset is that you think I’m after Jack."

Rose gasped with outrage. "I never said that!"

"You didn’t need to say it. The look on your face every time I’ve stopped by said it all. You’re jealous."

"I am not!"

"You are. Look, Rose DeWitt Bukater of Philadelphia society, if I wanted Jack, I would have to get you out of the way first. If I wanted you out of the way, all I would have to do is contact your mother and fiancé in Philadelphia, who, according to the paper, are very upset over your ‘death’. No doubt they’d come and get you immediately."

"What makes you think that I’m from Philadelphia society?"

Louise rolled her eyes. "This may be a small town, but it’s not that countrified. Some of us do read the newspapers, you know. And even though Philadelphia society isn’t that important here, and most people won’t pay attention to it, those of us who travel are sometimes exposed to new things. My relatives, who live in a small town in Pennsylvania, are interested in the goings-on of Philadelphia. I read about you in the papers there."

Rose stared at her, her mouth hanging open in shock. She had suspected that Louise knew who she was, but when Louise hadn’t said anything, Rose had wondered if she had been mistaken. Now, she wondered just what game Louise was playing.

"So, why haven’t you contacted my mother and ex-fiancé?"

"Because I don’t see any reason to. Despite what you think, I am not interested in Jack in that way. We’re friends, nothing more. We dated a bit back in high school, but only for a couple of months. We just didn’t...click. We parted as friends, and remained friends until Jack left town after his parents died. Even if I was interested, I wouldn’t stand a chance. He has eyes only for you. Anyone can see that, except maybe you."

Rose scowled at her. "I know that Jack loves me."

"So why are you so jealous?"

Rose looked away. "You’re everything he could want. You’re pretty, slender, a good cook, well-liked in this town, and you don’t have any scandals hanging over you."

"Rose, I am not what he wants. After roaming for five years, I doubt he would be satisfied with a small town housewife anyway, and he keeps talking about how special you are. He’s not interested in me. As to pretty...I’ve had my share of admirers, but you have the kind of beauty that can overshadow every other woman in a room. You’ll still be beautiful when you’re a hundred years old. And when it comes to being slender--you’ll get your figure back after the baby is born, even if you have to work at it a little. Trust me on this."

"And I suppose you would know."

Louise looked at her levelly. "Actually, I would." She leaned closer to Rose. "I’m assuming that you’ve learned about the kind of damage that can be done by spreading rumors, so you know to keep your mouth shut. What I’m going to tell you is not to leave this room. Don’t tell anyone, not even Jack."

Rose nodded, intrigued in spite of herself. "What is it?"

"When I was away, visiting relatives, I was also expecting a baby."

"Where was your husband?"

"I’ve never been married. As to the baby’s father, he’s long gone and out of the picture. He doesn’t live in this town, and I have no idea where he is now. The whole thing was a mistake."

"Why didn’t you marry him?"

"The day I told him I was in the family way, he left town. I was a mere dalliance for him, and he didn’t want to be stuck with me."

"What happened to the baby?"

"A childless couple in Pennsylvania adopted her. I doubt I’ll see her again."

"Don’t you miss her?"

"I only saw her once, right after she was born. After that, her new parents came and took her home. They’ll be good parents, I’m sure. She’ll grow up well." Louise avoided the question.

Rose unconsciously moved her hand to rest on her stomach. "I guess I’m pretty lucky."

"You are. Your baby’s father is a good man, who chose to stay with you, and who loves you and the baby. Many unwed mothers aren’t so lucky, and the father disappears, or denies involvement. Then the mother either has to go ‘visit relatives’, or stay home and raise the baby and face the scandal alone. You didn’t even need a shotgun wedding. I think that Jack would have married you whether you were pregnant or not. You’ve got a good husband, who would go to the ends of the earth for you, and you need to learn to trust him more. You two have something special, something that many people never find."

Rose looked at the floor, not sure what to say. She had never expected such a confession out of Louise, nor Louise’s vehement opinion that Jack and Rose had something special. She had also never considered that Jack might have been talking with Louise about how much Rose meant to him.

"I guess an apology is in order," she finally said, looking up. "I’m not sure what came over me. I know that Jack loves me, but for some reason I got it into my head that he might be interested in you."

"Sometimes pregnant women let their emotions get the best of them. I did sometimes."

"You had more problems than me. Your baby’s father abandoned you."

"And you had to deal with being the subject of gossip. There’s a lot of narrow-minded people in this town, some of whom are hypocrites."

"What I don’t understand is why you kept coming back when I’d made it obvious that I didn’t like you."

"I wanted us to be friends. Someone needs to be on your side in this town."

Rose pulled up the other chair and sat down next to Louise. "I’m sorry. I guess I really misinterpreted things."

"You had your reasons." Louise held out her hand. "Friends?"

Rose shook her hand. "Friends."

*****

Jack placed the pot of coffee and three cups on a tray and headed for the kitchen door. He hadn’t heard any shouts or crashes from the front room, so he guessed that both Rose and Louise were keeping their tempers. He stepped out the door tentatively, half-expecting Rose to throw something at him or shove him back into the kitchen.

What he didn’t expect was to see the two women sitting side by side, talking quietly. He wasn’t sure what had happened, but they weren’t fighting.

Rose turned as soon as he walked out of the kitchen. "Jack! Why don’t you join us? Get that chair out of our room."

He set the tray on the table, looking at them oddly, trying to figure out just what had happened. The two women saw his look and started giggling.

Jack shook his head, convinced that even after years of roaming the world and learning about it, he would never understand women. When he returned with the chair, Louise was walking out of the kitchen with the cookies Rose had baked the day before, and Rose was pouring coffee.

"Jack, I’ve invited Louise to come to dinner. Is that all right with you?" Rose asked him, handing him a cup of coffee.

"Uh...sure," he responded, looking from Rose to Louise, wishing that he knew what had happened to suddenly make them friends. Neither one seemed to be willing to talk about it, though, even after he questioned them, so he resigned himself to not knowing.

"Louise is going to come over early and show me how to make a pie," Rose told him. "I don’t know how to do that yet."

Jack just looked from one to the other, a bewildered expression on his face. He had been ready to break up a fight, and instead the two were giggling like schoolgirls. He didn’t understand it at all.

Chapter Seven
Stories