HEARTS WILL GO ON
Chapter Five

Oh, love is gentle and love is kind
The sweetest flower when first it’s new
But love grows old and waxes cold
And fades away like the morning dew.

"Please wait here…" a maid told Jo and I as we sat in the parlor of Olivia Dawson Banks’ home. After that article, I had written to her with Jo’s blessing and told her about our experience on the Titanic and how her little brother had saved my life. Jo was nervously fidgeting with her skirt. Her hair was pulled back and I could tell she was torn over everything that had happened in the past three weeks. We’d received word from Jack’s sister, telling us to come straight out to meet her. Her husband, Grant, was a successful businessman, selling stocks, and they had three children together, all of whom were grown, as well.

"Mrs. Banks will see you in the library," the maid said, pointing us into the room. Jo gripped my hand as we walked into the room together. A surprisingly normal-looking woman stood near the fireplace with her back to us. Her brassy blonde hair was pinned up, but she had a humble aura about her that made me feel a bit better about this. Jo looked at me nervously.

"Well, damn, I’m not going to bite…sit," the woman said in a pleasant voice, her eyes mischievous.

"Uh…thanks," Jo said, settling onto a chaise lounge awkwardly. She looked at me for some sort of help, and dumbly, I pulled out Jo’s birth certificate, the only proof of anything I could offer.

"I wish there was something I could show you to prove that she is your brother’s child, but unfortunately, I was left with nothing. There was a drawing…" Olivia held her hand up to silence my rambling and grinned.

"I don’t need to see some birth certificate…look at her. I mean, besides the red hair…she’s Jack. Of course, she’s a little prettier." I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to laugh or cry or what. Jo looked uncomfortable.

"How old are you, Josephine?" she asked, sitting beside my daughter.

"Seventeen," she said, her hands folded properly in her lap. She was the same age I had been when I’d become pregnant with her.

"You’ll be graduating high school soon then?" she asked.

Looking at me, Jo said, "I already did. I skipped a grade." She explained that she’d taken a test and had been promoted from junior to senior status. Olivia looked thoroughly impressed.

"He would never tell anyone, but he was the top of his class." She sighed. "After our parents died, I was only twenty-two, and he was fifteen. He dropped out, saying he needed to go find himself, and while I would hear from him sometimes…I never saw him again. He told me he was coming home on that ship and, well, he didn’t."

I didn’t know what to say. It hurt me, because I’d never gotten to know this side of Jack. I mean, we’d spent four days together, but I realized just how little I knew about this man I’d blindly loved. Even sitting in that parlor, I loved him for what he was. A good person. I felt extremely robbed, and as I had when I’d first found out I was pregnant with Jo, I silently berated God for doing me wrong, though I knew it was not His fault.

Jo obviously didn’t know what to say, so she replied thoughtfully.

"I’m so sorry for your loss." I looked at her incredulously, for I had never heard of someone expressing sympathy for someone else in the loss of her own father.

Apparently, Olivia felt the same way, because she replied, "But it was your loss, too, dear." Jo shook her head.

"How could it be? I didn’t know him…I don’t even know what he looked like," she said intelligently, and suddenly, I understood. How could she grieve over someone that she didn’t know? She’d heard bits and pieces of the few days I’d had with him, but since he was practically a stranger to me, he was moreso to her.

"Don’t you ever wish you had a father?" Olivia asked kindly, sitting beside my daughter. Jo shook her head.

"I had a father…a good one, too. His name was James Calvert," she said, so gracefully it nearly brought tears to my eyes. It had always amazed me how much she had adored Jim, but I suppose she had wanted a father so badly that he had given her that, at least before he’d died.

"Oh, dear…I’m so sorry…" Olivia sat, patting her hand. "I hadn’t realized your husband was…" I nodded, hoping she would stop. She did.

"I…would show you pictures of him. Unfortunately, they are all packed away at the cottage in Chippewa Falls. I’ve been debating whether or not to sell it, but I just can’t seem to part with it. Jack did love it, as did my parents and I," Olivia explained regretfully. I sighed, disappointed, as I had vaguely hoped that this trip would give me the chance to see him again. The rest of the night was pleasant enough as we ate dinner with her and I gave Olivia the details of Jo’s life and how gifted she was with art. Apparently, both of the Dawson children as well as Jackson Dawson, Sr. were blessed with talent, as well. We left Olivia the next day with the promise to keep in touch and prepared to return to Cedar Rapids to the boys. Liz and Randy were staying with them.

*****

Just as we were boarding, a young man who looked to be about the same age as Jo stepped off the train with two of his friends and three girls and nearly knocked Jo over, causing her to drop her suitcase.

"Oh, my God. I am so sorry, Miss…" he said, bending to help her pick up her things as his friends snickered. The girls giggled haughtily. I stared at that boy, because there was something vaguely familiar in his slate gray eyes and brilliant black hair. Jo flushed, embarrassed.

"No…it’s fine. I should have been paying attention. I…" She stopped, and to my amazement, their gazes locked for a moment. I’d never seen Jo lose her train of thought.

One of the attendants was waving us over frantically, as the train was ready. I nodded at him.

"Jo…" She didn’t reply, so I tried again. "Jo." Still nothing. "Josephine!" Her head snapped toward me. "We have to go, sweetheart." She nodded, and gave the boy a quick smile as she gathered her suitcase and rose to her feet.

"Thank you…uh…" She faltered, not knowing his name.

"Johnny," he said. She nodded.

"Jo," she replied, following me quickly.

"Johnny…" one of the girls, a blonde, whined. "What about the party?" I couldn’t hear anything else as I was helped onto the train. As the train began to leave a few minutes later and we were seated, I noticed that the boy was still standing there, grinning.

*****

"So…how was the trip?" Liz asked, once we got home and settled the following day. I smiled.

"Olivia was wonderful…she’s just as I would have hoped." I frowned, as Jo had disappeared into her room after kissing Jamie and Luke. I nearly died when she re-emerged an hour later after taking a bath with her hair combed and down. She was wearing one of her school dresses. I raised my eyebrows as Liz looked up in surprise, and as the red flushed her pretty cheeks, she turned and sprinted right back into her room, changing again into her everyday clothes. She left her hair down, though.

"Ma?" she asked later that evening after Liz and Randy had gone and I had fed the boys.

"Yes?" I asked, going over some of our bills.

"Do you think those boys in Boston went to Harvard?" she asked miserably. I looked up at her, surprised.

"Well, I don’t know, Jo…I suppose it’s possible…" I replied, eyeing her. "Why do you ask?" She sighed.

"They just don’t know how lucky they are…" she said, resigning herself to the fact that she would not be attending a university. "Professor Rose wrote back," she finally said, clutching the letter in her hand.

"What does he say?" I asked her, glad someone was encouraging her in her talents.

"He said he hopes I will be able to come to Philadelphia someday and to keep up with my art. He said if you love something, never give it up." I nodded, pleased with this.

"How right he is…you’re going to be fine, Jo Dawson…so long as you always remember you’re better than most people, but keep your feet on the ground." It was silent again for a few minutes before her voice broke the silence again.

"Ma…do you think I am pretty?" she asked seriously, and I had to look up at her in shock. She had never cared about her looks before.

"Josephine…what a question to ask…where is this coming from?" I asked her, nearly horrified. She frowned.

"Well, do you?" I shook my head, a bit angry.

"No, Jo…you are not pretty…you are astoundingly beautiful…and don’t you ever ask me again…then again, why ask me at all…you know I am biased. I think the sun sets and rises over the three of you." Jo smiled sadly.

"I love you, Ma…and I just want to tell you that I am sick of waiting for some miracle. I am saving up money and getting us out of here…it’s time to make it count." She left the room then, and I watched her leave, stricken. It had been Jack’s own words that had left her mouth.

"I got everything I need right here with me. I got air in my lungs, a few blank sheets of paper. I mean, I love waking up in the morning not knowing what's gonna happen or who I'm gonna meet, where I'm gonna wind up. Just the other night, I was sleeping under a bridge, and now, here I am on the grandest ship in the world, having champagne with you fine people. I figure life's a gift, and I don't intend on wasting it. You don't know what hand you're gonna get dealt next. You learn to take life as it comes at you...to make each day count."

Chapter Six
Stories