JACK AND ROSE: TOGETHER FOREVER
Chapter Fifty-Five
August 8, 1915
"Jack! Did you get a hold of Mary Butler
yet?" Rose called, running down the stairs that led to the ground floor.
Jack was working on something for the gallery that had to be done by tomorrow.
For the last three hours he had been shut up in that studio of his putting the
finishing touches on the drawing. Rose had barely spoken to him all day, as he
had been so busy. Quickly, she pushed the studio door open. "Jack, did you
talk to Mary about the baby-sitting thing?" Rose asked breathlessly.
Jack cringed and looked up from his drawing.
"I didn't," he said timidly.
Rose groaned and put her hand on her
forehead. "Okay, I have to go do that then. I'll be back in a few
minutes," she said, coming over and kissing Jack on the cheek.
"Listen for Mike, will you? He should be up in a few minutes."
Jack nodded and continued sketching
something. "Yeah, I will."
"Thank you! Bye," Rose called,
running out of the room and upstairs. She quickly slipped on some shoes and a
hat and then started outside, on her way to her neighbor's house. The Butlers
had a fifteen-year-old daughter that Rose hoped she could get to baby-sit
Michael the day after tomorrow. Brittany and Cameron were getting married on
the tenth. And with Rose and Jack both in the wedding, they really didn't want
three-month-old Michael to worry about. After just a minute of walking, Rose
arrived at the Butler's house. She knocked on the door and waited for someone
to answer. Thankfully, a minute later, Janet Butler, Mary's mother, opened the
door.
"Well, hello Mrs. Dawson! How are
you?" Janet asked, smiling.
Rose smiled back. "Good morning, Mrs.
Butler. I am just fine. How are you?" she asked, as Janet led her into the
house.
"Oh, I am good," Janet said as they
sat down on the couch. "How is Mr. Dawson, and little Michael?"
Rose laughed. "They are fine, too."
Janet smiled. "That's good."
Rose nodded. "Now, Mrs. Butler, I was
wondering if I could borrow Mary for a little while on the tenth. My friend
Brittany is getting married and I need someone to watch Michael while we are
gone."
Janet smiled. "I am sure it would be no
problem. You know how Mary loves little children." Rose smiled and nodded.
"Hold on just a minute, I'll go get her."
Janet got up and walked into the next room
and called for Mary. A minute later, the girl appeared. Rose stood up.
"Hello, Mary," she said, coming
over.
"Hello, Mrs. Dawson," Mary said
brightly.
"Mary, I was wondering if you wanted to baby-sit
Michael the day after tomorrow. Jack and I would pay you, of course. It would
be from about eleven to about eight or nine. I know that's a long time. But
Michael will sleep half the afternoon and goes to bed at seven-thirty,"
Rose explained as everyone sat down again.
Mary's eyes lit up. "Oh, of course I
would, Mrs. Dawson. You know I think Michael is the cutest."
Rose smiled. "Wonderful! So, I will see
you around eleven then, on Saturday."
Mary nodded. "Yes, of course. See you
then Mrs. Dawson."
And then with a rush of excitement, Mary left
the room. Janet smiled at Rose and Rose smiled back. "Would you like to
stay and have some tea, Mrs. Dawson?" Janet asked, after a moment.
Rose shook her head. "No, thank you,
Mrs. Butler. I have to get home. Jack is working on a new art project and I
really need to go relieve him of his duties of watching Michael."
Janet laughed. "All right. I'll see you
soon."
Rose smiled. "Good-bye, Mrs. Butler. Say
hi to your family for me."
Janet smiled as she and Rose got up. "I
will. You do the same."
They walked to the front hallway, and Rose
opened the door. "Bye," she said before leaving.
"Good-bye!" Janet called, closing
the door behind Rose.
*****
"Jack!" Rose called, coming into
the house and throwing her hat on the floor. "Jack?" she called
again, walking into the kitchen.
"Shh!" Jack whispered loudly,
running up the stairs from the ground floor. "Michael is still
asleep," he warned.
"Oh, I better go get him up. We don't
want him keeping us up all night again," Rose whispered, starting to move
in the direction of the front hall.
"Not so fast," Jack whispered,
grabbing her hand and pulling her into his arms. He gently kissed her.
"How did things go?"
"Fine. Mary said she will do it,"
Rose replied, looking up at Jack.
"Good," Jack whispered, kissing
Rose's forehead. Rose smiled and wrapped her arms around Jack's body.
"Mmm," she whispered, kissing the
tip of Jack's nose. Jack smiled and moved his mouth next to hers. Rose took the
hint and began kissing Jack passionately. Jack groaned and started kissing her
back. Rose was beginning to forget where she was when she heard a cry from
upstairs. Jack and Rose broke apart, looked at each other, and then started
laughing.
"I'll go get Michael," Rose said.
Jack kissed her once more on the tip of her nose.
"Okay," he whispered. Rose smiled
and took off in the direction of the other staircase. She ran up the stairs and
down the hall into Michael's room. As soon as she opened the door, Michael
stopped crying and started making baby noises from his crib. Rose shook her
head and walked over to her son.
"Hey, Mike," she whispered, reaching
down to pick him up. "Did we have a nice nap?" Michael looked at her
and gurgled. "I will take that as a yes. Do we need to change your diaper,
Michael Andrew? Let's see here," Rose said, laying Michael down on the
changing table and checking his diaper. "Nope, don't need to change
that." Rose lifted Michael up again and kissed his cheek. "Let's go
see Daddy," she whispered, and then started out of the room. Rose, holding
Michael, walked downstairs and into the kitchen where Jack still was. He was
sitting down at the table and smiled as Rose came in. "There is
Daddy," Rose said, to Michael as she handed him over to Jack.
"Hey, there," Jack whispered,
placing Michael against his shoulder.
"Did you finish that project,
Jack?" Rose asked as she went to let Addy in from outside. The dog ran
through the kitchen and down the stairs to, Rose assumed, the guest bedroom.
That was the coolest room in the house, and with the ninety-five degree weather
they were having, Rose would love to curl up with Jack and take a nap down
there also.
"Not yet," Jack said. "I am
close though. I am going to finish it up this afternoon. I needed a
break."
Rose went back over to Jack and smiled.
"I need to feed him," she said, taking her son back from Jack.
Jack nodded and got up, placing his coffee
mug in the sink. "I'll be downstairs," he said, kissing Rose on the
cheek before running down to his studio.
Rose nodded and made her way over the couch,
where she started nursing Michael.
*****
"Hey, Rose," Jack whispered as he
looked at his wife. She was sitting up in bed looking at a photo album, not
paying attention to Jack. Jack smiled and walked over, sitting next to her.
"What are you looking at?" he asked, louder this time.
Rose turned her head and smiled. "Our
wedding pictures," she whispered, placing the album between them. "I
was thinking about Brittany's wedding and it got me thinking about our own
wedding."
Jack looked down at the pictures and smiled.
One page was all the traditional photographs; the cake cutting, the big group
pictures, a few of Jack and Rose standing together. But the next pages were a
bunch of informal pictures that Dianna had taken with her camera and then given
to Jack and Rose. One Rose particularly liked. It was of her and Jack smiling
at each other during the reception. Neither of them had known the picture was
going to be taken, but it was still wonderful. There was another one of them
standing off to the side, their backs to the camera. Jack's arm was around
Rose's waist and Rose had her head on Jack's shoulder. They hadn't known Dianna
was going to take that picture either.
"Hmm, I had forgotten about some of
these," Jack said, flipping the pages. The wedding pictures slowly faded
into their honeymoon pictures. There were some of them on the beach, and some
just at the beach house they had rented. Rose laughed at the one of Jack
standing at the end of a dock giving a sailor salute. He looked very much like
a little kid in that picture. Those pictures, too, faded into more recent
pictures until, at the end of the album, were pictures of last summer's Fourth
of July party. Rose and Jack smiled at those. There was some of just them, some
of Dianna and Bryan and Meaghan, and some of everyone on the beach eating
something. The best one though, was a big shot of the Langstons, Dawsons, and
Fosters together. A passer-by had offered to take the picture when they had
seen the group. Rose studied that picture. She and Jack were standing in the
middle, arms around each other. Dianna and Bryan, with Meaghan in Dianna's
arms, were to Jack and Rose's right. And Jennifer and Scott were standing to
the left, smiling brightly. They all looked happy and excited.
Rose shook her head and picked the next album
off the floor. Jack pushed the other album away as they opened the second one.
It started with pictures from when Jack and Rose had been on the ship. There
were the ones Brendan and Marianne had taken, ones that Rose had taken of Jack,
and a few that Jack had taken of Rose. Those pictures merged into pictures of Paris
and then into pictures of Jack and Rose's trip to the mountains. Rose smiled
softly at the picture of her in her wedding dress. It was hard to believe that
was over a year ago.
Rose leaned against Jack as they thumbed
through the rest of the album. There were a lot of pictures of last Christmas
and a bunch of Michael. The last picture was one that Dianna had taken a few
weeks ago for them. Rose and Jack were standing up, Rose holding Michael in her
arms. Jack had his arm around Rose's shoulder and Addy was lying at his feet.
"We should get that framed," Jack
whispered, looked at the picture with Rose.
"Mmm, yes. It really is a lovely
picture," Rose commented. Suddenly, a very loud cry disturbed Jack and
Rose's peaceful evening. "Ugh," Rose groaned, planting her face in
her pillow.
Jack laughed and pulled the album away.
"Come on, Rose," he said, pulling her up. "Let's go check on our
son."
Rose shook her head, smiled, and then
followed Jack out of the room.