NIGHT TRAIN
Chapter Six

Late Friday and Early Saturday, after Thanksgiving-1948

Rose was lying on her side idly tracing circles and loops on Jack’s back. In her mind she was going over what had transpired in the wonderful time that had begun at noon yesterday. She had not felt like this, well, since those twenty four special hours she had spent with Jack, that started with the steerage party and ended in the back seat of the Renault, so many years ago.

For all that Jack had been so proper and subdued until she seduced him on the train, he now seemed back in full gear, pulling out all the romantic stops that a woman could ask for. When he called on Thanksgiving Day, he told her to be ready at noon on Friday with two outfits.

“Wear slacks, Rose. You’ll need those first. And have you got some sort of fancy dress you can wear Friday night?” he had asked sounding mysterious. “Oh and Rose? Tell your family you might be out late, very late,” he added, chuckling to himself and hanging up before she could ask any questions.

He had come for her late Friday morning and they had headed off to the beach at Santa Monica. Before she could argue with him about being rusty on a horse, they had been galloping in the surf, laughing like two carefree children. After that they had found a little hot dog stand on the pier and sat watching the tourists, while they ate their lunch and drank cheap beer.

“Is this where you used to sit drawing your pictures?” Rose asked, trying to take in the sights of the pier, the ocean and Jack, all at once.

“Yes, in this general area. It’s a little different now with all the new shops and the extensions on the pier. And of course the old roller coaster is gone. I heard they tore that down in 1930,” he answered.

“Those were good memories for you, weren’t they, Jack?” Rose said softly, looking up at him.

He looked into her eyes with that piercing stare of his.

“I have better ones.”

Rose blushed deeply and put her head down. She had no answer for that remark. She had the same memories.

“Rose, you lived here when you were in the movies. Didn’t you ever come here?” he wondered, noticing that all of this seemed so novel to her.

“I just couldn’t,” she whispered. “Not without you. I was too frightened of remembering all the things we spoke of doing here. I couldn’t,” she repeated with a sad look in her eyes.

“Oh, Rose,” said Jack, sounding frustrated, “if I had only gone back when I recovered, and checked the lists myself. If I had gone to the movies more. If only I had done those things, I might have found you and we could have had our whole lives ahead of us,” he said, sighing regretfully. He shook his head sadly. “We, we could have had children together.”

“Please,” Rose replied, gripping his hand tightly. “We can’t go back Jack. It won’t do any good. And besides, we did find each other again. It’s not the same, I know, as living a whole lifetime together. But we have each other for right now.”

Rose was scared to think of how long “right now” could be. It could be 30 years or it could be 3 more days. Jack had not given her any indication of what was to be, except to say that he loved her.

Jack looked at this beautiful woman next to him. She could have been the mother of his children, his helpmate for the last thirty some years. But she was right in saying that going back over the what ifs were useless. He had her now. And if all went well, he would make her his own for the rest of his life.

“We got here anyway, didn’t we Jack,” she said smiling into Jack’s eyes and trying to be cheerful. “We did everything we talked about on Titanic. We didn’t walk on the pier yet though. Kind of walk out to the horizon?” she remarked as she gestured out to the end of pier with her hand. “Aren’t we going to do that?”

He nodded, but his mind seemed elsewhere. He was looking out to the end of the pier. Jack looked at Rose and then to the pier again. He started to smile.

“You look like you just got some great idea,” teased Rose.

“I did,” he said laughingly.

“Are you going to share it with me?” she asked hopefully.

“Eventually,” he answered, evasively, “But not right now.”

He kissed her and pulled Rose to a standing position.

“Come on, let’s take a walk, on the beach,” he said smiling.

As they strolled along the water’s edge, Jack had told her about the conversation he’d had with Jeannie and how after winning her over, she was thrilled about having Rose be part of the family.

“I wish I had some better feelings about Richard,” she’d told Jack. “I don’t understand him sometimes. He is so much like his father. He looks exactly like him. And both of them, nice and good people, but sometimes so stubborn and suspicious. Sam could be suspicious of the neighbor’s Collie. I just haven’t had a chance to really talk to Richard about you. He seems to be avoiding me, avoiding the issue of me seeing you today.”

Jack nodded his head, understanding the problems that might lie ahead with Rose’s children.

They had left it at that and had gone back to Jeannie’s apartment to get ready for dinner. She and her fiancé Doug had gone out for the afternoon, but she’d insisted that Jack bring Rose by to show her the gallery and use her place to change.

“Here, Rose. Jeannie said to use her room. She said she left you something on the dresser,” said Jack as he opened the door to the small but very feminine bedroom.

Rose looked around at her surroundings. The mark of Jean the artist was certainly visible here. There were flowers everywhere and along the top of the wall near the ceiling was a hand-painted border of peonies and roses. The walls and furniture were white and here and there hung delicate and soothing watercolors of beaches, flowers and the sea. Over the bed were two charcoal drawings of her as a little girl. There was no mistaking who had done those.

“Did she do that?” asked Rose, pointing to the beautiful border.

“Yes,” answered Jack. “Her artistic talents lie more with still life, scenery and things like that. She’s not bad with people, but...” he stopped and smiled.

“But you, Mr. Big Artiste, are the expert with faces and bodies,” she said raising her eyebrows as she teased him.

Jack blushed.

“Yeah, something like that. My clothes are in the other room. I thought you might like to spread your things out. I’ll wait for you in the living room,” said Jack, kissing her.

“I’ll be ready soon,” Rose promised.

Jack shut the door behind him. Rose was curious to see what it was that Jeannie had left for her. She walked over to the white wicker dresser. On the top was an envelope bearing her name. Rose picked it up and looked it. She saw that her name had been written in very delicate writing and surrounding the name Jean had sketched in with colored pencils an equally delicate rose. Anyone who would take the time with such a lovely decoration surely would not have left angry words inside. Rose nervously pulled out an ivory sheet of paper. This too had a hand drawn border of roses around the edge of the letter.

“Dear Rose, I am sorry that I could not be there today to really meet you, but Doug and I had some plans that could not be cancelled. Please make yourself at home while you are getting ready.

Dad and I had a long, long talk the other night and he explained everything to me. I understand now how much the two of you need each other and how deep your love is. Once I understood everything, I was really happy for Dad and for you. I mean that very genuinely.

I am eager to know you better. I was wondering if you would like to go shopping with me on Monday. It would be great fun and afterwards, you and Dad and I could have dinner here. And perhaps on Weds, after I close up here, you and I could go to a movie or something. Dad has promised me that he could spare you for few hours.

Have a great time with Dad tonight. I don’t know what he has planned, but he has been on the phone and running around all morning. He is happier than I have ever seen him. And if you are the person responsible for that, I am grateful.

Jeannie”

Rose reread the letter again. She was thrilled that things would be working out with Jeannie. Jack’s charm had worked its spell on his daughter. Would it do as well on her son?

She opened the door and saw Jack sitting reading on the couch. He was dressed in a dark Navy blue suit, a white shirt and a tie that had small yellow and blue swirls. The colors of his clothing accented the brighter blue of his eyes. He looked dangerously handsome.

“Ready?” he asked, looking up, as he heard the door open.

“No, ah, not yet,” said Rose. “I’ve been reading this letter from Jean. She even hand-painted the envelope and stationery.”

“Yes, she showed me,” he said, proudly.

“She wants to take me shopping and to the movies. She really wants to accept me Jack,” Rose commented with a little surprise in her voice.

“I told you things would work out. And they will with Richard too. But Rose,” he said softly, “you better get ready.”

She gave him a smile and headed back to the bedroom. Just as she was about to enter the room, she glanced down at two framed pictures on the top of the bookcase. One was of Jack and Jeannie at what appeared to be her college graduation. Their resemblance to one another was very striking. She was clearly his daughter in more ways than one. Jack’s face was filled with fatherly pride. The other was of Jack with another woman.

Jack saw her stop and study the photos. She took the one of Martha and himself in her hands. He got up and walked over to where Rose stood.

Looking over her shoulder, he said quietly, “That was Martha and I when we married. It’s one of the few pictures Jeannie has of her.”

Rose looked at the much younger Jack and a tiny girl who came barely to his shoulders. Rose could see that she was at least four or five years younger than Jack. She had a halo of wispy light hair, large round eyes and a mischievous smile on her face. Jack held her hand and he too was smiling, but his eyes seemed to look beyond the camera’s lens.

Rose could feel his hand on the small of her back.

“It’s alright. They were good people. Martha, Sam. But that is how life works, Rose. It’s our turn now. We deserve the chance we were once denied, Rose. You know that. You can’t let this bother you,” he said slowly, taking the framed picture from her and replacing it on the shelf. “Now go on, get ready. This is a special night Rose. An important night. Please?” he urged as he gently pushed her in the direction of Jean’s room.

She was ready to go in a few minutes. While she was dressing, she thought that Jack was indeed right. It was their turn now. Nothing, not ghosts, memories of the past, old pictures, nothing would keep them apart this time. Rose pulled her hair up in a French twist and put on her makeup and the dress she had packed. The black taffeta dress with a slightly flared skirt was cut quite low in front and had small cap sleeves that were set off the shoulder. She’d bought it a long time ago on a trip to Chicago. Sam had told her that she looked nice in it, but that he didn’t want anyone else to see her like that. So the dress had hung in the closet for years. She really didn’t know why she had taken it with on this trip, except that she had halfheartedly thought about giving it to Louise. She hoped that Jack would like it. Somehow, she thought that he would appreciate seeing her in it and not mind at all what other people thought.

They had gone to the restaurant on the terrace at the Bel-Air Hotel and it was there that Jack shocked her, by proposing. Apparently he had everything planned out with the precision of a military attack. Through dinner he had tried to confuse her. He talked about going back to New York and asked her what her plans were when she returned to Cedar Rapids. All the time she was stoically preparing herself to say good bye to Jack in a few days. Yet, she sensed that he was up to something. Jeannie’s note and his remarks about this being an important night seemed contrary to what he was saying now.

A waiter had come to the table and whispered something to Jack. She could not understand what the commotion was all about. Jack stood up and came behind her chair and put his hands over her eyes. She felt something placed in her lap and she sensed that an object had been set on the table.

Jack leaned over and spoke softly to her.

“Rose, once a long time ago, you just took my name. Now, I want to give it to you.”

Slowly he uncovered her eyes and she looked around confused. Then she stared down at the dessert plate in front of her. The small dish of crème brulee that she had ordered sat on a larger plate and around the rim were written six words in chocolate.

“Marry me, Rose” at the top and around the bottom “I Love You.”

All she could do was take a deep breath and look up at him. She was totally speechless.

“Well, Rose?” he asked as he leaned down and kissed her.

“Oh, Jack,” she managed to say when he released her lips, “Yes, yes, Jack.”

She looked down in her lap where there was a bouquet of a dozen red roses and sitting next to the table was a silver bucket holding a champagne bottle.

This was more than she had ever expected. She had always wondered for many years how Jack would have proposed, because she had been sure that at some point he would have.

Now she felt like a queen. She had never before in her life been treated and courted like this. This was the romantic Jack she had once known, who obviously now had the means to treat her like royalty. Not that it was important to her. She loved Jack for himself, not for any material wealth.

They had shared the dessert, drank a little champagne and then Jack had surprised her once more. He had taken a room for them upstairs.

They had stood in the doorway of the room looking at the pink damask walls and the honey colored French provincial furniture.

“Jack, this is the most beautiful room I have ever seen,” she gasped.

He took her by the shoulders and studied her.

“I know we have things to do with our families during the day, but Rose, the nights belong to us. I vowed in that train station that I was never going to let you out of my sight again. I want you with me every night.”

Rose’s heart was pounding. It was the same thing she had thought about on the train when she silently wished for Jack to be with her every night forever.

“What are you doing next Saturday, Rose?” he asked, trying to conceal his anticipation.

“Well, nothing. I mean, I am supposed to go back to Iowa on Weds. So I hadn’t planned to be here,” she said.

“Maybe you should change your plans and stay,” he said with a teasing smile on his face.

“Jack, what is this all about?” she demanded breathlessly, somewhat confused.

“Rose,” he said taking both her hands in his, “I asked you to marry me and I don’t see any reason to wait. I want us to be married next Saturday. I don’t want to waste anymore time being apart from you. We both know what we want.”

She put her hand over her mouth and looked up at him. This WAS what she wanted, what she had dreamed for those few hours, years ago, until that dream had been snatched from her. She looked again into his eyes. Eyes that looked so hopeful. She could not resist. There really WAS no reason to wait.

She leaned against him and put her arms around his neck and felt his tighten around her.

“Jack,” she said softly, “I want that too.”

Now she could see that daylight was creeping in under the drapes. Out in the hall, there was the rumble of a room service cart. At the foot of the bed on the upholstered bench, she could just make out the jumble of their hastily discarded clothes.

She reached over and touched Jack’s face, feeling for his eyes.

“Rose, what are you doing?” he asked patiently.

“I, I was wondering if you were awake,” she giggled.

He grabbed her hand and pressed it to his mouth.

“You could have asked. Actually, I’ve been awake ever since you started drawing on my back with your fingers. You sure know how to torment a guy,” he said turning over so he could see her.

“I really don’t know what you mean,” she said with an innocent look on her face.

“Rose, you really are still amazing. You are about the least innocent person I know, when it come to certain things,” he said smiling at her. “I can see where I am going to have my hands full with you.”

She lifted her eyebrows and grinned at him.

“Happy to oblige, anytime,” she offered, cuddling closer to him. “Jack, there are a couple of problems with next week.”

He looked at her questioningly.

“What’s that?”

“One is that Richard has to be told, and Joe too, though I know he will approve with no questions asked. I’d like to have everyone happy about this by then,” she said, with a concerned tone in her voice.

“Maybe I should talk to him, explain everything. I don’t want you to get upset talking about Titanic again. Would you let me?” he asked.

“Oh, Jack, would you? I don’t think he’ll argue with you. Maybe you could come for dinner tonight and just get a little acquainted.”

Jack thought for a minute.

“Yes, but I don’t want to talk about this tonight. Maybe I’ll offer to take him out for breakfast or something tomorrow,” suggested Jack. “He won’t refuse, will he?”

“Jack, he only needs one of my motherly looks. He’ll go,” said Rose, trying to convince herself that things would indeed be fine. “I hope you can make him see this all clearly. After you’ve talked to Richard, I can send a telegram to Joe about the wedding. I doubt if he can come though. But I want him to know about it.”

Rose still had a serious look on her face.

“They don’t know about Titanic, Jack. I never told anyone.”

He took her hand in his again.

“I’ll deal with this. Trust me. Promise?”

She nodded.

“There is one more thing, Jack,” said Rose, this time a bit more mischievously.

“Now what,” he said pretending exasperation.

“I have nothing to wear for a wedding,” she said.

“Thanks fine with me,” he teased, “But, I know what you mean. We can fix that. Jeannie said she wanted to go shopping with you,” he answered grateful that his daughter was now understanding of his new situation. “She will know just the places to take you."

“I have to get back in a little while,” said Rose, looking over at the clock on the nightstand. “I promised to make pancakes for Peter and he wants to take me to the park,” she smiled.

“Well, I have some things to do this afternoon, myself,” said Jack sounding mysterious. “I’ll see you for dinner tonight and tomorrow I’ll take Richard out for breakfast. I think things will work out with him. He just needs time.”

Jack took her in his arms and started kissing her. He did not want to waste a moment of their time together. Suddenly Rose started squirming.

“Jack, it’s almost 7:30. I really have to go start those pancakes.”

Jack started laughing and could hardly talk. In spite of the fact that Titanic and other things were on his mind, he couldn’t help teasing Rose.

“Alright, Grandma,” he said, unable to keep a straight face.

“Oh, Jack, you’ll pay for that.”

She got out of bed and threw a pillow at Jack. But all that did was make him laugh more. He stood up and tossed the pillow back at Rose. When she reached down to pick it up, he grabbed her from behind.

“There is still a little time before we have to leave, Rose,” he whispered suggestively in her ear. “Come on, Rose,” he said.

“Jack,” she said, pretending to be shocked.

“Rose,” he countered back.

They both gave each other a little smile, their eyes shining with love.

“Well, I guess it would be alright,” she said weakly, unable to resist Jack’s wandering caresses. “You haven’t changed at all, Jack. Not at all. When you want something, you won’t stop until you get it.”

“Well,” he said, somewhat distracted as his mouth found hers, “I’ve got what I want and I’m never letting go, Rose. Ever again."

Chapter Seven
Stories