A FIRE IN THE WIND
Chapter Forty-Two
Rose looked over Jack's shoulder as he etched
a picture of the beautiful country sunset that was occurring just outside of
the window.
"It's beautiful, Jack," Rose
started. "Why, it looks just like the one on..."
"I guess it does, doesn't it?" Jack
replied in a tender whisper.
Rose watched the paper emerge into a work of
art for a few moments. Jack didn't mind. Rose's presence inspired him to draw.
He would have been nervous if anyone else was looking over his shoulder.
Fifteen minutes later, Jack signed the
picture with the familiar JD in the corner and handed it to Rose to inspect.
Rose smiled, contentedly. "It's perfect,
Jack. It looks so beautiful."
Jack closed the sketchbook and lay back in
his chair, fatigued.
Rose sighed uneasily, and took out a piece of
paper and a pencil.
"What's wrong, Rose?" asked Jack,
concerned.
"It--it's nothing, Jack," Rose
replied. "There's just something I have to do. Don't worry about it."
"All right," Jack replied.
"I'm tired, Rose. I think I'm going to try to get some rest."
"Good night, Jack," Rose whispered,
kissing her love on the cheek.
"Good night, Rose."
Rose hastily prepared herself to write. She
had been dreading this moment for days now, but it had to be done. There was
some unfinished business that Rose knew she had to attend to. There was a final
good-bye Rose had to make.
Dear Mother,
Rose wrote nervously, her handwriting shaky
from the constant rattle of the train. This wasn't going to be easy. I
suppose you're furious. I can't say I blame you. I betrayed you. I angered you.
I humiliated you. And I'm sorry to say I would do it again.
Rose paused and thought tensely about what to
write next.
I don't think I'm the only one to blame. A
week ago I told you how selfish you were being by making me marry him.
Yes, if I were his wife inevitably you
would have the money. I guess that would make you happy.
Material things always did make you happy,
didn't they? I've tried to look beyond the truth several times, but in
conclusion I found nothing.
I asked Grandmother to look after you.
You're stubborn and detest living off charity, but this way you'll be getting
all of the material things that are so important to you and you won't have to
work as a "seamstress."
I'm leaving you now. I don't know whether
or not you'll miss me. Don't blame Jack. He just helped me realize that there
was more to life than jewelry and caviar. I was the one who decided to leave.
So, I'm not going to tell you what I'm
going to do, or where I'm going to go, other than I'm going to "make it
count." I'm finally am going to make something out of my life. I want to
be something more than a steel tycoon's wife.
So, good-bye, Mother. And I only hope that
you can find it in your heart to become something more yourself.
--Rose
Rose sighed out loud in relief. Finally, the
hell was over. She folded the paper up, not bothering to read it over. She
addressed the envelope and placed it in her bag. Jack began to stir, and then
opened his deep blue eyes.
"Oh God, Jack," Rose started off.
"I'm sorry. Did I wake you?"
"It's all right, Rose," Jack
replied tenderly. "I don't mind."
Rose rested her head on Jack's shoulder.
"Where do you suppose we are?"
"Ohio...Indiana," Jack guessed.
"It doesn't really matter. We won't be in Chicago for a while."
Rose started to fall asleep. "I love
you, Jack. I will always love you."
"I will always love you, Rose,"
Jack replied, half asleep. "More than anything in the world."
And the two fell asleep in each other's arms,
wondering about what adventures were waiting for them just beyond the sunset.
The world seemed to have so much more to offer now that they had found each
other. They were each other's soulmates. And they knew that they would never
let go.
The End.