HEARTS WILL GO ON
Chapter Three
Slowly, Jo and I found our lives
entwined with that of Jim Calvert. To my surprise, she took to him in such a
way I couldn’t have asked for a better result. The guilt was still there,
though. Every time I even thought of pursuing something other than a platonic
relationship with Jim, my mind seemed to berate me for even thinking it. I knew
Jack would never fault me for it, since he had indeed made me promise to move
on and live my life, knowing he was going to die that night. I don’t know what
I would have done if it wasn’t for Josephine. I probably would have wished I
had died right there with him, but she’d given me something to focus on.
*****
"I love you, Jack."
"Don’t you do that. Don’t
you say your good-byes…" he said, his chin quivering from cold and
emotion. He was exhausted. I could see that.
"I’m so cold," I
replied weakly. I knew it was a stupid thing to say, since he was the one in
the water, but I felt like I was slowly dying. I felt his cold, hard lips kiss
my hand. He looked at me sternly but kindly.
"Listen, Rose. You’re
gonna get out of here. You’re gonna go on, and make lots of babies, and you’re
gonna watch them grow." He smiled to encourage me. This was the most
tragic thing I had ever had to live through. Talking about my future with the
man I was supposed to be with, both of us knowing in our hearts that he wasn’t
going to make it.
"You’re gonna die an
old…" He stopped to shiver a moment, regaining his voice. "An old
lady warm in her bed. Not here. Not this night. Not like this. Do you
understand me?"
I would have laughed if the
situation hadn’t been so awful. He was literally ordering me to live. I wanted
to say something intelligent, but all that came out was, "I can’t feel my
body…" It was true. I felt like a dead person whose soul had not yet left
the body. He kept talking.
"Winning that ticket,
Rose, was the best thing that ever happened to me…" His voice cracked with
emotion, but he held his own. "It brought me to you. And I’m thankful for
that. I’m thankful." At this point, I could feel the warm tears start to
slowly trickle down my cheeks.
"You must do me this
honor, Rose," he said suddenly, and I was confused. How could I possibly
do him any honor in this situation? "Promise me you’ll survive," he
said, and I felt a sob wrack my body and could see he was holding his own
telling emotions back. "That you won’t…give up, no matter what happens, no
matter how hopeless. Promise me now, Rose, and never let go of that
promise." I so badly wanted him to tell me we were going to get through
this together that I couldn’t even describe the mixed emotions that were
running through my frozen mind, but I choked out against his ice-encrusted
hair.
"I promise."
*****
That was the worst memory of them
all. I could still feel the cold and Jack’s lifeless hands clenched in my own,
the silver handcuffs still around his wrists. For a brief moment, when the
lifeboats had come, I thought we’d won. We’d beaten fate, but when I turned to
tell Jack, he didn’t wake up. I realized then that if I died in this water, he
would never forgive me, and my father would never forgive me, so I forced
myself to fall back into that water and do something when I couldn’t find a
voice to call out. I found a whistle around one of the men’s necks and blew as
hard and as loud as I could. That whistle still rings in my mind. As they
hoisted me into the lifeboat and threw a wool blanket over me, I looked at the
stars. I prayed. For me, for my mother, and for Jack. Daddy, take care of
him…I prayed and allowed myself to fall asleep.
The knock at our door brought me
back to reality as I folded clothes I had just washed. Jo got up quickly and
bounded to the door. She had just turned eight and her hair hung in brilliant
ringlets, nearly to the middle of her back.
"Jim!" she cried as she
flung her arms around the man. I smiled, getting up and going to meet them at
the door. He had a small arrangement of flowers. I appreciated the fact that
he’d gone for an arrangement of wildflowers, since everyone automatically
assumed I preferred roses.
"These are lovely. Thank
you!" I said, pulling him inside by the arm. He nodded and patted my
shoulder.
"And for Mademoiselle
Josephine, I have this," he said, and held something up. It looked like a
bag of some sort. She looked at me for approval, so I nodded and tentatively,
she took the item from him and opened it, gasping.
"Mom…" she said, and I
walked behind her to have a look. It was a collection of art pencils and
sharpeners, along with a small sketchpad.
"Jim…you didn’t have to do
this…" I said in shock. He smiled warmly.
"I wanted to…look at how
happy she is," he said as he pointed to where Jo had settled on the couch
with her sketchbook and new pencils.
"You really do care for her,
don’t you, Jim?" I asked him, seeing the sincerity in his eyes as he
watched my daughter draw. He nodded.
"Rose, she’s everything I
ever dreamed of in a child. Smart, beautiful, talented, and a genuinely good
person. You’ve done a wonderful job. I really do care for her," he
confirmed, and it almost felt like a relief to hear it. He took my hand.
"Rose, how long have you
been working in my office?" he asked me, and I thought a moment, counting
the months.
"Nearly six months," I
said, and he nodded.
"Six months, Rose. I’d be
lying if I said I didn’t wish there was more…between us," he said
suddenly, and I stopped breathing.
"W-what do you mean?" I
asked nervously, and he took my other hand, as well.
"Rose, I am in love with
you. I’ve been in love with you since the day we met," he confessed, and
somehow, it didn’t surprise me. I couldn’t find words. He chuckled.
"Saying something right now
would do a great deal of good to my nerves," he said, and I looked up at
him.
"It’s so hard for me…"
I said, and he pulled me in for a friendly, comforting hug.
"I know, Rose…I know. If
you’re not ready or you don’t want me, just say the word and I will leave
without question. But I want you to know I will be waiting for you." He
kissed my cheek and began to leave. Jo, sensing something was going on, left
the room, and I thanked God for her intuition.
"James, wait," I heard
myself say before he could get to the door. He turned back, and before he could
say another word, I threw my arms around him and kissed him on the lips. Almost
nine years it had been since I had kissed someone like this. He pulled away,
still holding my waist, and grinned.
"Where did that come
from?" he asked, and I looked down, embarrassed.
"I have…feelings for you,
too. I’ve been trying to deny them, but God knows I can’t anymore, and tonight,
seeing the way you were with Jo, and your confession…I’ve cared for you for a
while now, as well. I’m sort of madly in love with you." He kissed me
again then, and I could almost see Jack grinning because I had finally taken
that step.
*****
By the time Jo entered school in
the fall, we were married, and the following June, I found out I was expecting
a child with James. Our love was very different from the spontaneous love that
Jack and I had shared. It was more mature, less intense. We were content.
Happy. Still, my mind drifted back to those stolen moments with Jack often, and
I found myself wishing James could let loose and have fun with me the way Jack
had. I wouldn’t trade him for the world, though, and despite his differences
from Jack, I loved him wholeheartedly. James Calvert, Jr. was born March 21,
1923, with a full head of red hair and his father’s amber eyes. He made sure
everyone knew he was there and cried loud enough to wake the dead.
Liz and Randy brought Jo to the
hospital the next day, and she timidly entered the room, still dressed in her
school clothes. I smiled at her and motioned for her to come to me. She crawled
into Jim’s lap, where he sat on the side of the bed, and I pulled back the
blanket a bit to give her a better look at her brother.
"Oh…" she said softly,
her voice becoming hushed and awestruck.
"This is James," I
said, touching her hand.
"He’s funny-looking…his face
is all bunched up," she said, wrinkling her nose. Jim laughed.
"Sweetheart, he was just
born," he said. "He’ll look different in a few days." Jo nodded.
"I sure hope so. Poor
baby," she replied.
*****
When little James was three, I
came home from work to find Josephine already home. I could faintly hear her
crying in the bathroom. Setting Jamie up with a toy, I knocked softly on the
door, worried.
"What’s the matter,
Jo?" I asked, and she quietly opened the door. She was a mess. Her hair
was disheveled and her clothes were in a pile. I could see the stains on them,
and suddenly, I knew.
"Oh, Jo…" I said,
bending to pick up the clothing and covering her with a towel.
*****
"And this happens to all
girls?" she asked, wiping her eyes. I nodded.
"I’m afraid so," I
said, brushing through her tangled curls.
"Then I don’t want to be a
girl," she said defiantly, and I laughed.
"Not much you can do about
it now, sweetheart," I said, and looked up as Jim came into the room.
"Everything all right?"
he asked. I nodded.
"Jo just had a little
accident, but we took care of it, didn’t we?" I asked her. She nodded,
mortified. "Sweetie…why don’t you go play with Jamie so I can talk to
Dad," I told her, and she left quietly.
"What happened?" he
asked, kissing my head. I sighed.
"She’s begun her
cycle," I said softly, and he looked confused.
"Her cycle…" He
realized what I meant and sat beside me on her bed. "Wasn’t she just seven
last week?" he asked, and I laughed.
"Six years ago, honey."
He took my hand and kissed it.
"Happy?" he asked, as I rested my head on his shoulder.
"Do you even have to
ask?"