JACK'S ROSE
Chapter Twenty-Nine

 

Rose sat at her dresser, a stack of blank paper to her left, and a pile of crumpled papers laying to her right and scattered about on the floor.

William,

I feel awful. I have not written you since I left. And I write you now to ask of you a great

Rose gathered the sheet of paper into her hands, crumpled it into a tight ball, and threw it into the pile with the rest of the unsuccessful beginnings of the letter. She rolled the pen about between her fingers. Rose wet her lips and grabbed another sheet of yellowed paper.

William,

I know I have not written you since I left, and I feel awful for having neglected you. I write you now to apologize and to ask a great favor of you. I am truly sorry for what I did and have done. I hurt you all and have not bothered to write before now. This was cruel of me, and I pray that you will forgive me.

The other reason that I write to you is to ask you a favor. I fear that Julia and Henry will not let Nathan visit me. And so, I dare not send this letter to them. Please, William, please bring Nathan, Cora, and Lilly to visit me here. I will enclose the money needed for two tickets in this letter. I have to see them again, William. My heart aches more and more each day to see them. Please come.

Rose

*****

William looked up as the Ciclys stepped through the door. He shoved the piece of paper in his pocket and greeted them.

"Good day, Mr. Cicly. Mrs. Cicly." He smiled. The two frowned at him. He'd heard people say that it was possible to age gracefully. That your inner beauty grew as you got older.

That was all but the truth with these people.

"Yes, yes, boy. Did our order come in yet?" the man asked, peering over the counter. William nodded and walked behind the counter. He stooped and lifted their package from the shelf.

"Right here," he said, handing them the box. Mr. Cicly quickly withdrew a pocket knife from his coat and cut away the strings, then tore the paper from around the wooden box. William sighed inwardly as he watched the man open the box and lift out the coffee grinder from amongst the cloth strips it was packed in. The man wound the handle about and looked it over, making sure there were no faults in it, then replaced it in its box, paid William, and left, leaving the pile of brown paper and string behind on the counter.

William frowned, outwardly now, as he set about cleaning up the mess.

"I see the Ciclys dropped by and picked up their package," Ralph said, chuckling. William groaned. "And what's this?" the older man asked, taking the paper protruding from William's apron pocket.

"Give that back!" William snapped, snatching the paper back.

"Rose? You got a letter from Rose?" he asked, having only seen her signature at the bottom of the paper. "What did she say?"

William ignored him.

"Answer me, Will."

"She wants me to bring the girls and Nathan to see her," he answered hotly.

"Well, when will you leave?"

"I won't." William stared out the window. "I'm not going."

"William, you have to go. You will be ruining your life if you don't."

"Why should I go, Ralph? She left me! And now, now, just when I forget her, just when I get over what she did, she writes to me, telling me to come! To put my entire life on hold and go over there! No! I won't go! Why should I?" he repeated, softer this time.

"You will go, because you love her." Ralph looked intensely at the young man. He sighed, then firmly placed his hands on William's shoulders. "Listen to me, now. I've never told anyone this. But you need to hear this. When I was eighteen, still in Cedar Rapids, I met this girl. Samantha Beaker. She was only a year younger than me. It was like...love at first sight. I courted her for two years, always putting off proposing to her. All my friends, my family, harped on me, telling me to hurry up, propose to her. And so, finally, I got up the guts and marched down the road to her house, ring in my hand. I marched straight up her porch and knocked on her door. The maid answered. When I asked to see Samantha, the maid told me that she and her parents had left for Boston. Left for Boston to see her married to some rich son. I was outraged! How dare she leave just when I was ready, was all I could think of. And so, I withdrew from the world. I just crawled into my own little hole. I went to work and did not talk to anyone. I went home, and stayed silent. But, finally, after a year of being a hermit, my best friend forced me come out. We found out where she was and so I got on a train and shot over there. I found the house, walked right up the lawn, and knocked on the door. A maid answered. When I asked for Samantha, she led me straight up the stairs to her bedroom. I felt like my heart had been ripped out of my chest when I saw her. She was hunched over, sitting on her bed. She had bruises all over her. She was nine months pregnant and due any day. The bastard she had married beat her. She was scared to death. But he was gone for a week, visiting family. So, we planned for me to pick her up the next day. She would raid the stash her husband kept in the house, almost a thousand dollars, and we would take flight. Go anywhere, except there. She kissed me and then I hurried back to the cheap hotel I was staying in. I packed and the next day, before the sun had even risen, I started off toward her house. When I got there, I found the maid and cook standing outside. They told me that she had gone into labor just after midnight and would not let anyone in the room. They said she was calling my name. I ran up the stairs and to her room. The bed, the sheets, the pillows, her, everything was covered in blood. But I ignored that, and cradled her like a child, trying to calm her, telling her everything would be all right. She died in my arms. Maybe if I had proposed sooner, we would've been married. Maybe if I had gone earlier to her in Boston, she wouldn't have died that day. But she did. God didn't give me a second chance, William. Why he waved it in front of my face and then snatched it back, I'll never know, but, William, he is giving you a second chance. People spend their entire lives just waiting for that second chance, but few ever get it. If you don't go, if you don't seize this chance, then you don't deserve it. You don't deserve her."

The two men stared at each other. Then William stripped the apron off and headed out the door.

"William!" The boy turned. "Where are you going?" Ralph asked, though he already knew the answer.

"I'm seizing destiny, Ralph," he called back, a smile playing on his lips.

And he shut the door and ran down the road to the Dawsons' house.

Chapter Thirty
Stories