JACK'S ROSE
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Rose sat on the couch in her dressing room,
staring down at the picture.
Jack's picture.
It was of Cora, cradled in her father's arms,
standing on the rails of the "ship of dreams." A wide smile was
spread across the young girl's face. She looked so happy.
Rose smiled.
"Rose?" A soft knock sounded at the
door. She closed the portfolio and laid it on the couch beside her, then stood
and opened the door.
"William." She smiled.
"I just wanted to give you something
before the show," he said, extending something wrapped in purple tissue
paper.
She studied his face. "Oh, Will, you all
have given me much too much today."
"Nah. They did. All I did was give a few
cents toward the record and get you out of the cafe so they could decorate
it."
Rose smiled at him.
"Go on! Open it!" he urged.
She looked back down to it and began to
unwrap it. As the paper fell away, it revealed a greenish butterfly hair comb.
Tears welled in her eyes.
"No, William. I cannot take this,"
she said, handing the comb back to him. "I can't, William."
"Yes, you can, Rose. You have to."
She gazed at him. He knew she was fighting
tears. She sighed, seeming to have given up the fight, and looked down.
"Thank you, William."
He smiled. "You're welcome."
William bent and kissed her cheek.
"Thank you," she whispered again.
He gave her a half-smile, turned, and left.
Rose shut her door, then returned to her
mirror. She slipped the comb into her hair.
The comb perfectly matched the emerald
teardrop earrings she was wearing.
*****
William sat in the same seat he had been in
last night. Nathan sat beside him, mesmerized by the play.
How he understood the "old" Modern
English, puzzled William. Then again, maybe it wasn't the play itself he was so
fascinated by. Maybe it was the flashy costumes, or perhaps it was the
actresses and actors themselves. Whatever it was, his eyes had not wandered
from the stage.
"’Tis but thy name that is my enemy;
Thou art thyself, though not a Montague. What's Montague? It is not hand nor
foot, Nor arm nor face, [nor any other part]" She smiled. "Belonging to a man. O, be some
other name! What's in a name? That which we call a rose By any other word would
still smell as sweet..."
William found himself intrigued by her
lulling voice. As she spoke her lines, a strange accent that she did not have
at any other time shone through.
He had never liked theatrics. But he did now.
He loved them.
Or perhaps it was only her.
Did it really matter? No.
William smiled.
"William, are you just going to stay
here?" Lilly asked.
Goodness, time flies. Intermission already?
"Yeah. You three go ahead," he said, shifting in his seat. As they left,
he put his hand in his pocket. His fingers struck the cold metal. A smile
spread across his lips.
The orchestra began to play a hymn. He
recognized it, but couldn't think of what it was.
He couldn't think about anything at that
moment, save one thing...
*****
Rose stepped off the stage, pulling her hair
down as she did.
"Good job so far, Rose," Michael
said as she passed him. Rose nodded in gratitude and made her way back to the
small dressing room where she threw herself down on the couch.
Susan followed her, as always. "Tired,
Rose?"
"Not at all, Susan, really," Rose
said sarcastically.
Susan laughed. "I understand, Rose,
believe me." Rose eyed her friend doubtingly. Susan shrugged. "But,
as they say..."
"The show must go on," they said in
unison.
"I know. I'm up," Rose said,
forcing herself to stand. "But if I don't stand up after the death scene,
just splash some ice water on me. I should wake up then."
Together, they laughed at that, then dressed
Rose for the next two acts.
Thirty minutes passed all too quickly, and
soon, too soon, Rose was back just behind the curtains of the stage waiting for
Scene II when she would enter.
And as she did, her eyes moved swiftly to the
front row where she saw William quickly shove something with a gold shine back
into his pocket.
*****
The last two acts flew by all too quickly. He
hadn't had time to think it through. What should he do? Just stand up, here in
front of the twelve hundred members of that night's sold-out show? Wait, and
follow her back to her dressing room?
His mind and pulse raced.
"For never was a story of more woe
Than this of Juliet and her Romeo."
It was time.
Now or never, Will.
Seize destiny.
He leapt up. Rose smiled this time, not
bothering to hide it. Cora and Lilly once more followed his example, and soon,
the entire audience was standing again. But that wasn't his purpose. Not
tonight.
He started for the orchestra pit.
Without thinking, he made his way through the
pit and to the foot of the stage.
"What is that lunatic doing? Isn't he
the same one that stood up last night?" he heard one of the orchestra
members say.
"Shut up, Greg. I wanna hear what he
says."
William laughed as he finally reached the
stage. He withdrew the ring from his pocket and extended it toward Rose.
All the other actors and actresses had backed
away from the edge of the stage.
The auditorium had gone silent.
"Rose Dawson, will you marry me?"
he proposed, smiling as he saw her eyes twinkle.
She bent down and took his hand, helping him
climb onto the stage.
"Yes, William Calvert, I will marry
you."
And there, in front of the audience of that
night's show, a real life Juliet kissed her Romeo.