LOVE FOR LIFE AND BEYOND
Chapter Twelve

Jack and Rose dressed and had a quick breakfast, then set off down the quiet road.

"Where are we going first?" asked Rose.

"To the church," replied Jack. "I want you to meet my parents."

Rose nodded and they walked on in silence. They walked down the main road and arrived at the graveyard ten minutes later. Jack led Rose to a shady corner and pointed out the graves of his parents.

"Anne and John Dawson," she read. "1887-1907. Rest in Peace."

Rose looked at Jack and saw tears in his eyes. "Ma, Pa, I want you to meet Rose, my wife," he said, speaking very softly. "I wish you could have been there physically at our wedding—I knew you were there in spirit."

Rose looked at the graves and took a deep breath. "I wish I could have met you when you were both alive," she said. "From the way Jack has described you, you must have been wonderful parents. I truly love Jack and I promise to be a good wife."

Jack smiled at Rose and kissed her. "I know they would have liked you," he said. "Someday we’ll go to Philadelphia and you can introduce me to your father."

Rose returned the smile and gave Jack a hug. "He would have approved of you—he believed love mattered more than money."

They departed from the graveyard quietly and soon they were back on the main road.

"What shall we do now?" asked Jack.

"Let’s go visit your friend Thomas," said Rose.

"Yes. That’s a good idea," said Jack. "Wells Drive, right?"

Rose nodded and they started walking down a smaller back road, Jack pointing out various landmarks along the way.

They took a few more turns and arrived at a large yellow house with a garden full of flowers, mainly daisies. Jack took one look at the house and burst out laughing.

"What’s so funny?" asked Rose. It seemed like an ordinary house to her.

Jack took a few deep breaths and tried to stop laughing. "We first saw this house when we were both about nine years old. You see, we took a wrong turn coming back from the lake, and we didn’t know where we were. Anyway, Thomas saw this house and said it was a sissy house. Now that I remember, the garden was full of pink lilies and Thomas hated pink. They did look pretty dreadful next to the yellow, though. So, Thomas made a vow then and there to never live in a house like this—a vow he was going to keep forever and ever—and now he’s living in this house!"

Rose started to giggle as she heard Jack’s story.

"Now that you’ve told me such a funny story about him, I’d like to meet him," said Rose.

"Sure," said Jack. They walked up the path and knocked on the door. A young woman with brown hair and a pleasant face answered the door.

"I—I’m not sure I’ve met you before," she said awkwardly, seeing the unfamiliar young couple at her front door.

Jack grinned suddenly. "You mean you’ve forgotten the boy who put a caterpillar down the back of your dress during school that summer when you were ten years old?"

The puzzled expression on the woman’s face changed and became one of amazement.

"Jack Dawson! I don’t believe it! Yes, I certainly do remember you. How could I forget that enormous furry bug crawling down my back?" She shook her head and turned to Rose. "I really don’t think I know you, though. Are you from around these parts?"

Jack cut in smoothly. "No, she isn’t. Ellie, this is Rose, my wife."

Ellie looked even more surprised, if that was possible. "Come in. Come in," she said quite weakly. "Thomas is out in the garden—I’ll go call him and make some tea."

She went out the back door and reappeared presently with a tall young man in tow. "Jack!" cried the young man. "Is it really you?"

Jack grinned and looked at Thomas. "Yup. You’re not seeing a ghost. Didn’t your father tell you I’m back in town?"

Thomas shook his head. "No. You know what Pa’s like. And who is this young lady?" he asked, seeing Rose for the first time.

Rose stood up and extended her hand politely. "Rose Dawson, Jack’s wife."

Thomas grinned and looked at her hand, still extended. "I can see you’re not from these parts, Rose. No one shakes hands here, except those damned politicians when they want your vote. Excuse my language," he added, remembering his wife was within earshot.

Thomas then turned back to Jack. "Jack, when did you get married?" he asked.

"A week ago," replied Jack.

"A week ago?" repeated Thomas.

"This calls for celebration," added Eleanor. "I’ll go brew some tea and get out the cake I made yesterday."

The two couples had a wonderful afternoon discussing Jack’s adventures and all the happenings of the town in the last five years and filling Rose in on all the legends of the area. Eleanor insisted they stay for dinner and it was quite late by the time Jack and Rose got home.

"So, what did you think of Thomas and Eleanor?" asked Jack as they were getting ready for bed.

"Oh, they were wonderful," said Rose. "And I think I’ve found the right people to tell me all those embarrassing stories about you," she added mischievously.

Jack ignored her comment and got into the bed. Rose turned blew out the lamp and lay down beside him.

"Good night, my sweet Jack," said Rose.

"Good night, my darling Rose," said Jack, and promptly fell asleep.

Rose lay awake for a little while longer, thinking over the day’s events.

I think I'll like it here, she thought to herself, then turned over and fell asleep.

Chapter Thirteen
Stories