HEARTS WILL GO ON
Chapter Twelve
"Good grief, Jo! Have you
been crying? Your eyes are swollen!" Ma swarmed me as soon as I walked in,
red from the cold. The tears just hadn’t seemed to stop completely yet, but I
waved her off of me.
"I’ll be all right," I responded,
hearing my own dazed voice. "I love you, Ma...I just want you to know
that." She felt my forehead to make sure I wasn’t feverish.
"Sit. Now," she
instructed. I was too emotionally drained to protest, so I sat, and Jamie
pulled me into a hug.
"Who made you cry?" he
asked curiously. I looked at him tiredly.
"No one...I…uh...I stubbed
my toe and it hurt real bad." Naive that he was, he accepted this and left
to return to his game with Luke.
Ma returned with a cup of
something that vaguely smelled like coffee. After I had taken the first sip,
she gently took the mug from me and set it on an end table.
"All right, Josephine. What
happened? Did Tom upset you?" she asked, narrowing her eyes. I shook my
head and watched her eyes leave my face and finally rest on the rolled-up piece
of canvas in my hand.
"What is this?" she
asked, taking it and unrolling it. She tilted her head, trying to place him.
"It’s...Jack. He asked me to
draw my father as I imagined him to look, since I didn’t have a picture of
him," I answered, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.
"And it made you
cry..." she said, unsure of herself.
"I finally was able to cry
for that boy, Mom. That is all he was...a boy...who never even got the chance
to really live. I mean, he was my age, Ma. My age...I can’t imagine being this
age and this being it...it’s such a waste, don’t you think?" Her lips were
pursed, but her control was admirable.
"Indeed," she agreed.
"But take comfort in this...he did live. He traveled Europe and made
somewhat of a name for himself before he was your age. He saw the world. He did
live, Jo...and if he had lived, God rest his soul, he would have gone right on
living. He never complained...he was born into one of the richest families in
our country and chose to live as a poor man...you know, I only knew him for a
couple of days, yes. But I have never felt like we didn’t know each other. I
mean, I don’t know his favorite color or food, but I knew his soul. He didn’t
hide it. I think that’s why people liked him so much...and everyone liked
him." She chuckled. "Well, everyone except for my mother and
fiancé."
I nodded at her and looked at my
picture.
"Does it look like
him?" I asked her, and she smiled.
"It doesn’t look just like
him, but it has a certain Jack quality to it. I think it’s the eyes. Your
eyes," she conceded. "You have a certain Jack quality that way."
Standing, she smoothed her skirt and sighed. "Well...now, the more
important matter at hand...you have prospective suitors now...they’ve been
calling for you since you left." I groaned inwardly, wiping my eyes.
"Well...I guess I cannot
avoid it any longer..." The door to the hotel room burst open and Dave
flew in, followed closely by his parents.
"Jo, we need to talk.
Now," he said quickly. He looked positively inspired.
"All right..." I said
slowly, looking at his parents and my mother. His hand wrapped around my wrist
as he dragged me anxiously into the hall. "Are you all right?" I
asked, watching him brush a piece of his fair hair out of his face.
"Never better..." he
explained. "Marry me," he said, and I coughed. Loudly.
"What?" I asked,
knowing damned well my mother and his parents were listening at the door.
"You need a husband...you
don’t want those pigs all hounding you...never knowing who you’ll get stuck
with." I glared at him.
"Are you saying I couldn’t
possibly find the occasional love match?" I retorted.
"Not with that gold-digging
lot...no. It’s perfect! We even like each other!" he said, and I shook my
head.
"Dave! We’d have to sleep
together...you know...with no clothes on, and frankly, I think of you as a
brother," I said. He grinned.
"Would you rather sleep with
me or Mr. Phelps...the three hundred pound wonder?" I had to admit, he had
a point. When you looked at it like that, life with Dave seemed better,
appealing even.
"Well, when you put it like
that...wait! Why? Why are you doing this? It’s insanity!" I replied.
"Look...last night, I met
the girl of my dreams...she’s beautiful, she’s clever, sweet, perfect...she’s
taken. You told me yourself...she’s engaged to that Hockley boy." I
nodded.
"Yes, but that isn’t
Jonathan’s...uh...Mr. Hockley’s fault!" I defended. He nodded.
"Not saying it is, Jo...but
I can’t marry another man’s wife now, can I? And I realized I don’t want anyone
else, so if I am going to marry, it might as well be you!" he said. My
anger did not subside.
"So, you’re going to settle
for me? How kind..." I muttered.
"Don’t be crazy, Jo..."
he said, and I whirled on him.
"I am not the one proposing
marriage to my best friend because I met someone and realized they were already
spoken for..."
He ignored my retort.
"Jo...that’s not what I
meant, and you know it...I was trying to say that’s the beauty of it. With you,
I’d never have to settle, because if I have to spend my life with anyone but
Miss Edwards...it has to be you. So, it’s perfect. You’d get a husband and a
best friend for all of your days."
"I want children," I
said quietly. "We’d have to..."
"Yes...but we can cross that
bridge when we come to it now, can’t we?" And then, he was on one knee
with all of our parents watching. "Josephine Dawson...will you marry
me?"
For some insane, stupid reason, I
said yes. I agreed to his ridiculous proposal and found myself engaged one day
after I’d learned I had to marry. Mom was a bit horror-struck, but quiet. A
slight feeling of dread filled my stomach as I read the paper that day. Soap
Heiress Must Marry to Gain Company. Imagine what it would say when they
learned I was engaged already. Some part of me wished I could just go back to
Cedar Rapids with Ma and the boys and return to some sense of normalcy. That
evening, we moved our things into Aunt Olivia’s rented home. She had hired a
governess for the boys to have lessons and to keep them occupied when Mom and I
couldn’t be there. I knew with this whirlwind of chaos, I had slightly
neglected my brothers, and I felt horrible for it.
I was immensely grateful for a
night of relaxation in my aunt’s house, but something kept tugging at my mind.
That photo album. Curiosity got the better of me, and I crept into the library
when I was sure everyone was asleep. I walked to the exact spot where I had
seen the album, between a book of recipes and a novel, and was surprised to
find it had been replaced with a book called Everyday Needlework.
Defeated, I turned to leave, when I noticed something poking out of the drawer
in the table. I opened it and found a crumpled piece of paper. October 21,
1912, St. Mary’s Hospital, New York. That was it. One line. Yet, I couldn’t
look away from it. I had no idea what it meant, and I didn’t know why, but it
made me feel uneasy. I put it back and fled to the room across from Mom’s.
I did not sleep that
night...those words kept running through my mind. October 12, 1912, St.
Mary’s Hospital, New York. Between that and my irritation that the Dawson
family album was gone, I tossed and turned for what seemed like hours before
closing my eyes just after the first light was coming through my window.
Moments later, or so it felt, I was being gently shaken awake by Mom.
"He’s in there! I know
it!" I cried, sitting up and breathing heavily. Mom sat on the bed.
"Who?" she asked, and I
looked at her, confused.
"What?" I asked, unsure
myself of who or what I had been talking about.
"Who is he?" she asked
with a small smile. I bit my lip.
"I don’t know...it was the
strangest dream...I was in a hospital and...I was calling for someone, but they
wouldn’t let me in, and that was it...odd..." I said, rubbing my head.
"Did you sleep well?"
she asked, offering me a glass of orange juice.
"No," I admitted, the
dream temporarily forgotten. Gently, she brushed one of my matted curls out of
my face.
"Dave is waiting
downstairs...no hurry. Why don’t you take a hot bath and come down?" she
asked. I nodded.
"All right. I will..."
I agreed. She kissed my cheek and left me to ponder my dream again. It had been
vivid. I was in the hallway of a hospital, trying to see into a room. All I saw
was a silhouette before someone had grabbed my arm.
"Nothing for you to see
here! No one there!"
"But it’s him! He’s in
there! I know it!" My head hurt. I decided a bath would be wonderful.
Dave was, of course, sitting in
the parlor with Aunt Olivia, Uncle Grant, and Mom. The boys were playing
blissfully in the corner with their young Irish governess.
"Jo!" he said, jumping
to his feet. "I got you something," he said, pulling out what was
inevitably a ring box. The ring was a bit snug, but I appreciated the gesture
all the same.
"Uh...thanks..." I
said, allowing him to put it on my finger. We stared at each other awkwardly
for a moment before opting to sit down.
"My parents went back to
California today," Dave said finally.
"Oh?" I replied,
feeling stupid.
"Yes...Belinda overstayed
her welcome at a friend’s house when she was caught sneaking out at night."
I laughed.
"Yes, well...she never did
have the brains to carry off a scheme."
"Are you two ready to face
the press? Because they are going to find out sooner or later," Olivia
said softly. Looking at Dave, I nodded, and Olivia smiled. "That’s wonderful...we’ll
have your engagement ball on Christmas Eve...have you two thought of a wedding
date?" she asked. We shook our heads.
"Goodness...they’ve only
been engaged for one day," Mom said, eyeing Olivia a bit angrily.
"I just want to get it over
with...how about the end of January?" I asked, surprising us all. Olivia
nodded.
"January twenty-ninth?"
Olivia asked.
"Fine," I answered.
Dave and I looked at each other, both unsure of what to say. What the hell had
I gotten myself into?
The news spread like wildfire,
just as I thought it would. Even Tom was surprised as I walked into his studio
two days later.
"You’re getting
married?" he asked as I hung my coat. I nodded nonchalantly, though my
hands were shaking.
"On January
twenty-ninth," I explained.
"Why?" he asked in
horror as I sat across from him.
"Because I have to...or my
father’s company will go to the vice-president...and it won’t be a family
business anymore. Not to mention...this is my shot at making something of
myself. No college will take me."
"But...married...I mean,
couldn’t you just take your father’s company?" he asked. I shook my head.
"The will stated that I had
to be married before I could take it on..." I replied. His eyes grew dark.
"That is horseshit! That
wasn’t how it was supposed...I mean, couldn’t your aunt do something about
it?" I eyed him warily.
"I suppose not," I said
dryly.
"Damn it," Tom said in
a voice I had never heard him use. He sighed. "Let’s just get something to
eat," he said in a less harsh tone. I nodded numbly, wondering why he was
so upset. An hour later, we were eating soup and discussing lighter topics like
Christmas and Luke’s birthday, which was the day after. Reluctantly, I left
just as dusk began to set in late that afternoon.
"Well, I really should get
back. I am meeting Dave for dinner, and I want to spend some time with the
boys," I said. He nodded as I pulled on my coat. As we were walking out
together, he gave me a quick hug.
"Take care...all right? Tell
your mother I said hello and don’t worry...everything is going to turn out
fine. I promise...okay?" he asked. All I could do was nod.