JACK'S ROSE
Chapter Thirty-One
Rose entered the cafe and looked about. It
was fairly busy. Saturday nights normally were. Besides, it was suppertime. Her
stomach was painfully aware of that and was grumbling, demanding to be fed.
Rose smiled to herself and made her way to her normal booth, which was empty.
One of the waitresses came to her and took her order. Rose ordered the house
specialty—potato soup. Then, she turned her attention to a couple across the
cafe. They were smiling at each other, sharing a plate of spaghetti. She looked
away. It struck a vague, but familiar, pain in her heart. She stared at the red
and white checkered tablecloth. But she soon became aware of someone standing
beside her.
Rose turned to see the young waitress with a
notepad one hand and a pen and a bowl of a thick white soup in the other.
"Are you gonna just sit there, or are you gonna eat?" Rose apologized
and took the bowl of soup from her. She ate it hungrily, then made her way up
to her room. She sat on her bed, a strong feeling of deja vu settling around
her. Restless, Rose stood and walked to the dresser.
She smiled at the pictures sitting on the
dresser. The one of her sitting atop Star Queen brought back the wonderful
memories of flying over the beach, just in the surf, letting the warm air whip
around her, consume her, lift her into the arms of her Jack. The one of her,
leg propped on her beloved plane, brought memories back so crisp and clear, she
could smell the air, feel the chill as she flew amongst the clouds, hear the
roar of the engine. But no one had ever recognized her flying. The sound of her
plane was either drowned out by the sound of the cities she flew over, or the
country folk of the hills and plains she soared over simply ignored the strange
thing in the air. But she had never bothered to make it known that she had
flown, either. She hadn't cared. She was flying for her sake, not history's.
Then her eyes moved to the last picture of
her. She was posed lustfully, a stern look on her face. Susan's brother had
finally come back from his honeymoon with his newlywed wife a week after Rose
had recalled her piano talents. He'd had a photographer friend of his come to
take pictures of the actresses and actors to hang in the main hall of the
theater. When the photographer had come, he had begged Rose to allow him to
capture her on his film. For "how could he pass up a chance to capture
such beauty?" Rose had blushed, but, after more convincing, had given in
and let him take her picture.
When he had gotten done developing the film,
he had given Rose a copy of her picture, already framed. Rose had known he
wanted to pursue her beyond photography, but she had quickly made it known that
she was not interested.
She hadn't heard from him since.
Rose heard a knock on the door, and quickly
advanced to the other side of the room. She opened the door.
"Rose Dawson?" the young man
standing there asked. She nodded. "Here's a letter." He pushed a
letter into her hand, then rushed down the hall to knock on another door. Rose
glanced down at the letter.
William Calvert
340 Main Street
Chippewa Falls, Wisconsin
Rose ripped the letter open and scanned over
it.
Rose,
I'll be there in three weeks. Cora and
Lilly are extremely anxious to see you once more. Nathan, in all of his
seven-year-old charm, is rowdy, strong-headed, happy, and very handsome. He
seemingly grows by the day, and learns as quickly as he grows. He is very quick
to learn, and good at writing and calculations. Cora and Lilly have been
attending a girls' school in the next town. They are quite the young ladies
now, and Cora is close to engagement.
We all miss you, Rose.
I have to go now. I'll see you soon.
William Calvert
Rose lifted herself onto her toes. Her heart
soared. They were coming!