NIGHT TRAIN
Chapter Ten

Saturday, 9 days after Thanksgiving, 1948

Rose wandered aimlessly around the first floor of Richard and Louise’s home. Everyone had left for the wedding. Everyone seemed to know exactly what was going on. Everyone, that is, except the bride. Richard and Louise and Peter had left an hour ago. Joe had sent a congratulatory telegram from New York, with his apologies that he would not be there. Rose had not heard from Jack since yesterday afternoon, when he had mysteriously excused himself, telling her that he had some last minutes things to attend to. He told her that she should be ready at 11:30 in the morning. And that was all he would say.

Well, now it was 11:30 and she had no idea as to what was happening next. She trusted Jack and was sure that he had something up his sleeve, but she had to admit that all this secrecy was a bit frustrating.

She stopped and looked at herself in the mirror over the fireplace.

“Is this really me, on the day I am to marry Jack? Can any of this even be real?” she questioned as she patted a few unruly strands of hair in place.

She was grateful to her daughter in law for helping her get ready this morning. Louise had done her nails and they both struggled to get her obstinate, curly hair into a French twist. Rose had spent the least amount of time working on her makeup. Just a touch of mascara, a light dusting of powder and her favorite lipstick.

“I think Jack will be satisfied,” she thought, smiling nervously into the mirror. “I still can’t believe this!”

There was a knock on the door and Rose went to answer it. Before her on the doorstep, stood an elderly black man, dressed in a coachman’s livery. In his hand, he held a top hat. Out at the curb, she glimpsed a small white carriage and a gray horse.

“Morning, ma’am,” he said. “I’ve been told you come pick you up for a wedding’” he told her. “A Mr. Dawson sent me.”

Rose stood looking at him blankly for a minute. She knew that Jack was going to surprise her in some way. It was just that she had not expected it to come in the form of a horse and buggy.

“Oh, ah yes. Of course,” she said politely, as if this were an everyday occurrence to her. “What do I do?” she asked, feeling quite astonished at this development.

“Well now, ma’am, you just come with me. I’ll get you settled and we’ll be on our way. By the way, my name is Willie.”

“On the way where?” asked Rose, puzzled at this lack of information.

“Oh, I’m not at liberty to say, ma’am. Mr. Dawson told me not to say anything. Just to take real good care of you,” Willie said, smiling so his whole face lit up.

Rose drew in a deep breath.

“Alright Willie. Lead the way.” Rose closed the door behind her, resigned to the fact that no more information would be given.

Willie helped her into the carriage and assisted her in arranging her dress. Then he reached over to the driver’s seat for something.

“Mr. Dawson told me to give this to you right off,” said Willie earnestly.

He handed her an envelope and a small but fragrant bouquet of white roses and lily of the valley. Instinctively Rose put the bouquet under her nose and inhaled the delicate scent.

“You sit back now, ma’am. I’ll have you there in a little while. You just relax,” Willie said, as he climbed around to the front of the carriage.

Rose sat holding the bouquet in one hand and the envelope in the other. She was vaguely aware of the clip-clopping of horses’ hooves as the carriage rocked and they started on their way.

“What’s in here?” she asked herself as she fingered the envelope.

She looked at the front and there was the printing in the upper left-hand corner that said The Bel-Air Hotel. It was not sealed. The flap was only tucked in, making it easier to open. Slowly she pulled a sheet of paper out and began to read.

“My darling Rose,

I’ve never really been as good with words as I have been with pictures. In fact putting this on paper seems somewhat awkward for me. But I wanted to say these few things to you. First I all, I want to reassure you that in a short while we will be together and married. I just wanted you to have some time alone to read these thoughts of mine and to relax before the ceremony.

When I saw you on Titanic for the first time, you were worlds above me, both physically and socially. But I saw your eyes. There was pain and sadness there. So much so, that it was heartbreaking. I wanted to be near you then and comfort you. I could see that you were in a situation where no one really understood you.

Later, on the back of the ship, when we first really met, I felt sensations in my mind and body that I had never known before. I knew you were desperate. I wanted to take you away with me that night and heal all your troubles, never letting you go, even then. But as you know, certain things made that impossible.

Until last week, those days aboard Titanic were the best days of my life. After we thought we had lost each other, we did go on and try to pick up the threads with other good people. But truly a part of me has felt dead inside for the last 13,000 days or so. For all that time, I went over and over in my mind why you were taken from me, what I did wrong to lose you in the water. Outwardly, I tried to be happy for the sake of Jean, and for my friends. But inside, I led a tortured existence.

But last week, we found each other. Fate, as cruel as it was in 1912, gave us back the gift of our love. And I intend to love you everyday for the rest of my life. To make you happy and to do all I can for you. And if sometimes I don’t get it quite right, please forgive me, Rose. You know how much I care for you.

In a few moments, we will join hands and become husband and wife. We will take back what belongs to us and has truly belonged to us for the last 36 years. We must be the two most fortunate people in the world.

Come, Rose, come to me now. Let me see the laughter and the warmth, the joy and happiness that I now see in your eyes. Let me love you forever.

Jack”

Rose slowly put the piece of paper down in her lap. There were tears in the corners of her eyes. He had given her so much already and wanted to give her even more. He must be the most incredible man in the world. She picked up her bouquet again and drank in the fragrance of the flowers, her thoughts concentrating on this wonderful person that she was at last going to marry.

The carriage slowed slightly and she looked up, confused to see that they were at the pier in Santa Monica. Willie turned the carriage and headed down the pier. People moved off to the side, smiling and waving as they saw them approaching.

“What are we doing here?” she wondered.

Then she remembered last Friday when she and Jack had eaten their lunch here. They had been in the middle of a serious conversation, when Jack had gotten that mysterious look in his eye and she had asked him if he had some plan in mind. It all fit together now. But to get married on the Santa Monica pier?

“Jack, Jack, what are you up to?” Rose whispered to herself as she shook her head.

The carriage drew to a halt at a place where they could go no further. A six foot high canvas wind break separated this end of the pier from the rest of the boardwalk. There was a small opening to let people through. Rose tried to catch a glimpse of what was on the other side, but it looked empty.

Willie climbed down from the front of the carriage. He put a small stool down on the ground and gave Rose his hand to assist her.

“Why, thank you Willie,” she said politely.

She looked down to be sure that she did not trip or that her dress would catch on anything. Rose smoothed the gown to be sure it was hanging properly. Then she stood up straight, tightly gripping her bouquet and letter and raised her head. Her eyes blinked, not believing what she was seeing. She put her hand to her mouth and gasped.

Chapter Eleven
Stories