Summer, 1920
He hadn't had a particular destination in mind. He just wanted to get away, go somewhere he could think. Things had been so simple before the War. He had known exactly who he was and what he wanted out of life—power, an endless cash flow, beautiful women smiling coyly at every turn, and the envy of every other man on the planet. And for the most part, he'd had everything he wanted. But things had changed, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't change them back again. The women in his life had gone from being captivating beauties to being vain, insipid creatures that inspired revulsion where they had once inspired lust.
He'd thought it would be easy. Grab enough money to keep him comfortable—just because he appeared to be having some sort of nervous breakdown did not mean he was going to live like trash—and go. Forget about who he was—or who he was supposed to be—for awhile. It wouldn't last forever—it couldn't.
Except it turned out living on his own was harder than he'd anticipated. He went through his money supply in the first week. He could have gotten more, but his pride wouldn't let him. At least, it wouldn't let him yet. Penniless and stranded in some forgettable town in the Midwest, Cal thought of Jack for the first time in years. "He actually liked this," he said to himself, amazed. "But then again, he couldn't have known any better…" And just like that, he was filled with a renewed sense of determination. "If he could do it..."
A few weeks later, he'd managed to work his way to Los Angeles.
Summer, 1923
"What're you thinking about?"
"What?" Rose's question startled him. "Oh," he said, remembering where he was. "Nothing. Why?"
"You had this look in your eyes, like you were a million miles away. I can't imagine what could possibly be so fascinating—especially considering you're sitting across from me."
"Who said you were fascinating?"
"Oh, everyone does."
"Sure they do."
Their words were slightly combative, but beneath the sarcasm was a never discussed affection. Cal studied her face as she ate, searching for any clues as to what was going on in her mind. He found none. "What are you doing tonight?" he asked, surprised to hear the words come out of his mouth.
She thought for a moment. "Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Why?"
Don't say it. She doesn't think of you that way, and she never will, so stop deluding yourself. "Neither am I," he said. "Would you like to do nothing together?"
Rose wasn't stupid. She suspected he had more than a friendly interest in her, but she didn't care, as long as they never had to talk about it. Her own feelings about him were something she refused to let her mind touch. She was too afraid of what she would find. There was affection there, and empathy—in a way, they'd both felt the same things, just years apart—and respect. She respected his willingness to try to live his own life, become a real person, develop a conscience. And for the most part, he had. He wasn't perfect, and at his age there were some traits he would probably never fully overcome. But compared to what he was, she thought, he's not so bad. Though, of course if he was, I wouldn't choose to spend so much time with him.
She didn't let herself wonder if perhaps she enjoyed his company in part because of what being near him reminded her of. If perhaps his existence confirmed that Jack had once existed, that she hadn't dreamed it all. Rose wasn't an unhappy person. She loved the life she had built for herself, and as far as she was concerned, she had let go of Jack enough to go on living while still keeping a special place for him in her heart. It wasn't a place she went often, but that didn't matter. It was there when she needed it.
In the three years since they had become friends, they hadn't discussed the Titanic once and had only mentioned their previous relationship briefly, and always in the context of a joke. Without saying anything, they both had just known that was the way things needed to be.
"I'd like that," she said.
Cal smiled. "Really?"
Rose nodded. "Really."
And she meant it. She ignored the implications raised by how much time they spent together. She also ignored how many offers from other men she had turned down with no explanation, as well as the fact that she usually ended up either alone or with him.