IMAGES OF ONESELF
Chapter Ten
Jack threw his hand over his eyes and
squinted in the morning sun that flooded the hotel room. Outside, he could hear
the sounds of the traffic on Ocean Boulevard. He sniffed the smell of freshly
brewed coffee and heard the steady quiet breathing of Rose beside him. She was
still sleeping peacefully, probably having the most sound sleep that she’d had
in months. Almost a whole night of sleep. A look of contentment spread across
his face as he thought of the hours that had just passed. This night of passion
had restored Rose to her old self and they had sealed their commitment to each
other once again.
He glanced over at the clock on the table
next to the bed. 7:30. Their son would be expecting them downstairs for
breakfast in an hour. They would have to hurry if they were going to get down
to the lobby on time. It was going to be difficult facing him this morning
after what had transpired with Rose. He was sure the flush of their lovemaking
was still written all over his face.
“He’ll be in for a shock,” Jack thought to
himself. “Last night, I am sure he was wondering what was going to happen.
Things have certainly changed since dinner.”
Jack looked over at Rose watching the rise
and fall of her chest. She was so beautiful, even at age thirty-five. Her eyes,
that had been full of sadness when he found her yesterday, had sparkled like a
galaxy of stars, even in the dark of the night. The hollows of her throat
caught the shadows of light and her hair looked like a flame against the white
sheet. He would never get over the fact the she was his, that they would be
each other’s forever. They had talked before they fell asleep last night and both
of them had agreed that they should be married before returning to Chippewa
Falls. The sooner they were a real family the better.
He had convinced her that the she would be
welcomed with open arms by his friends and neighbors. That he, Jack Dawson,
would be bringing home such a gorgeous wife would be the topic of conversation
at home for weeks to come. Most people considered him a recluse, a loner. They
would never believe that he was married now to someone like Rose. He trusted
his friends to tell the story correctly and be sure there was no gossip. But he
was positive that the appearance of Rose would certainly lift a few eyebrows.
“Wake up, sleepyhead.” Rose stretched and
reached out for him. Her eyes fluttered open and she gave him one of her
dazzling smiles. That was something he had waited a long time to see. He knew
that she was as happy and content as was he. They had a long and wonderful life
to look forward to. “Got to get up,” Rose. We’re meeting our son for
breakfast,” Jack paused to check the clock again, “in forty five minutes. We
need to get ready.”
“Yes, I know.” She raised herself up on her
elbows and arched her head back, a huge yawn escaping from her mouth. “The poor
boy does not realize what decadent parents he has,” she giggled.
Jack grinned at her. “Rose, you did a
wonderful job raising him. He really is someone to be proud of.”
“Thank you. I wanted him to be like you,
Jack.” She studied his face and looked into his understanding eyes, still
shocked by the miracle that had happened in their lives. A miracle brought
about by their son. “I wanted him to be gentle, funny, smart, kind. I felt I
owed that to you, well to your memory.” Rose gave him a wistful smile. “He
really was a joy as a child. Oh, Jack. I am so sorry that you missed his
childhood.” She leaned her head against his arm, trying to hold back the tears.
“Come on, Rose. We promised we were going to
stop looking back.” Jack stroked her hair gently, hoping he could put an end to
her melancholy feeling. “Just think about how lucky we are, what’s ahead of us
and,” he lifted her chin and held her face close to his, “last night,” he
whispered. Jack could feel her nod her head against him.
She blushed deeply. “Yes, Jack. He is such a
fine person. There is the one other thing about him though.”
Jack gave her a confused look.
Rose batted her eyelashes and smiled
seductively. “He is so brash and impetuous. So impulsive. I just can’t
understand where that came from,” she said, trying to sound innocent.
He chuckled, pleased to see her good spirits
and mischievous attitude return. “Later, we will decide which one of us is the
most impulsive and impetuous. Right, now, we both will have some explaining to
do it we aren’t downstairs for breakfast.” He pulled her out of the bed,
mindful of her still aching foot and nodded his head in the direction of the
bathroom. “Now, go, get ready and I’ll think of some brash ideas for tonight,
Mrs. Dawson.”
“Oh, Jack, I can’t wait.” She tossed her mane
of glorious hair and limped her way to the bathroom.
Young Jack Dawson watched impatiently as the
elevator dial slowly counted down the floors to the lobby, well aware of the
fact that he was fifteen minutes late to meet his parents. He had overslept.
All during the night he had been awake worrying about what was going to happen
now in his life and with his newly reunited parents. Things didn’t seem to be
working out as well as his father had planned. After a fitful night in the bed,
he had finally fallen asleep at dawn.
“Lobby,” said the elevator operator, as the
door slid open.
Jack gave the man a curt nod and he headed
out into the large room. He was torn inside as to what to do. The promise of a
college education was what he really wanted and had always dreamed of. But
could he head back to Wisconsin and leave his mother here? It hadn’t been hard
to figure out last night that she was reluctant about moving away from Santa
Monica. Didn’t she understand that there was nothing here for him now,
especially since they didn’t even have a proper place to live? Yet he owed her
everything. She was, after all, the parent who had raised him. Then he thought
of his dad and that wonderful farm he lived on. That had already become a
special place to him, not to mention the great relationship he was developing
with his father. Somehow today he was going to have to make some decision about
what to do. A very painful one. No matter what he did, three people would all
be hurt.
The boy pushed the hair out of his face as he
stood at the lobby door. He glanced from one side of the veranda to the other.
His parents did not seem to be here where they had planned to meet. The
California sunlight was bright and welcoming after his dreadful night. Hanging
baskets swayed under the awning and tall potted plants with brilliant flowers
were strategically placed here and there for privacy. He noticed a table where
two gray haired ladies sat drinking tea and another where a family with three
small children was looking over the menu. In the corner, halfway hidden by a
large flowering bush, a couple with their backs to him was engaged in a very
passionate kiss.
He glanced back in the lobby and then again
to the porch. His thoughts were interrupted by a gale of laughter and a woman’s
voice saying, “Jack, no. Really Jack.” And then more laughter. He looked to see
where the voice was coming from, as he recognized the sound of his own mother.
His eyes reached the far corner of the veranda. The two people that had been
kissing were his parents.
“Oh no,” he thought. “First my big worry was
what I was going to do with my life. Now I only have to hope that they will not
embarrass me in public. Good grief.”
He walked to the small table at the far end
of the porch where his parents were seated. Their chairs were so close together
that they were almost sitting on top of each other. His dad was dressed in
another one of his crisp white shirts and his suit pants, while his mother was
wearing the last of her nice dresses. It was made of navy blue silk and trimmed
with white piping. He watched as his mother broke off a piece of the muffin she
was eating and popped it into his father’s mouth. His dad threw back his head
in laughter and grabbed his mother’s hand, kissing it. He watched in amazement.
His mother seemed to offer no resistance to anything now. They were acting as
giddy and happy as a honeymoon couple. Last night his dad had been nervous and
his smile had seemed artificial. His mother had been sad and her mind had been
elsewhere. Now it looked like he would be unable to pry them apart.
He cleared his throat as a warning sign as he
approached their table. “Morning, Mom,” he said, as he bent over and kissed her
on the cheek. “Morning, Dad.” He patted his father on the shoulder. “Sorry I am
late.”
“Don’t worry. We’re just starting to eat. Sit
down.” Rose blushed and smiled secretively at Jack, while their son got settled
at the table. “Here, let me pour you some orange juice.” She lifted a pitcher
and let the golden liquid splash into his glass.
Jack watched this little domestic scene
between mother and son, thinking about all the times that the two of them had
shared their morning meal. He felt a sad pang in his heart when he realized all
he had missed. But he would make up for it. He would always be there now for
Rose and their boy.
“Jack.” The boy turned and met his father’s
blue eyes. He still got an odd feeling seeing a face that was so much like his.
“We’ve got a lot to do today. And you have a big job ahead of you.”
The boy glanced over at his mother and saw
the tender smile on her face. “What am I doing?” he asked hesitantly.
Jack laughed. There was a twinkle in his eye
as he explained the plans for the day to his son. “It’s a big responsibility.
You’re going to be my best man and give your mother away this afternoon at our
wedding. Think you’re up to the job?”
The young man looked back and forth from his
mother to his father. Things were suddenly happening way too fast. He saw how
happy and contented they looked, but that awful dinner had only been hours ago.
How could things change so fast? “But last night, nothing seemed right. How
can…A wedding today?”
“It’s alright, Jack. I know this is all a bit
confusing.” Rose tried to reassure her son. She rested her hand on his arm and
gave him an understanding smile. “Your father and I talked about everything
last night. I know what I want now. We’re going to be married today and then go
back to Chippewa Falls, as a real family. It’s what I want,” she assured him.
“What all of us want? Right?”
Young Jack reached out for his mother,
hugging her tightly. “Oh Mom, it’s what I wanted all my life. It’s just that
until now, we had no real place to go. No dad to be there for us.” He looked
across his mother’s shoulder at his father with confusion written on his face.
He still didn’t understand just how his mom had arrived at this decision so
quickly. Jack guessing at the boy’s unspoken questions responded with a broad
smile and a wink.
Jack kept his thoughts to himself at this
emotional moment. Even if the boy’s road trip had been against Rose’s wishes,
he would be thankful forever. Thankful that it had brought them all together
here, just like that poker game in Southampton had brought him to Rose. Both
had changed their lives forever. Like father, like son.
“Well then,” said Jack, “we better get
started. Let’s finish our breakfast. Then while you mother is shopping for
something to wear, you and I have a few things to attend to. I’ll check with
City Hall, but the man at the hotel desk here told me that they perform
weddings after 1 P.M. That gives us plenty of time to get dressed and ready.”
“I’ll say one thing, Jack. You were never one
to waste any time.” Rose leaned over to kiss her husband to be. “You haven’t
even been here twenty four hours and you’ve already got all of our problems
settled and our lives planned for the next twenty years.”
“Me waste time?” Jack put his hand on his
chest. “What about you? I don’t remember you hesitating about anything, all
those years ago,” Jack protested laughingly.
Young Jack lowered his eyes, still unused to
his parent’s displays of affection. “I guess I’ll get used to it. I just can’t
get over the change. Must be that Dawson charm."” He sat up a little
taller, proud to think that it flowed inside of him too.