PHILADELPHIA IN SPRING
Chapter One

Rose Dewitt Bukater strolled slowly down the park pathway, several delicate flowers in her hand. She bent down to pick several more from the plush green earth of the park. The flowers were bright, and free. So unlike herself. She glanced behind her to see Mr. Lovejoy scowling, as he usually did, on a nearby bench, arms folded across his chest. It seemed as though Cal made him follow her everywhere these days. Slowly, he seemed to be attaching chain after chain to her, imprisoning her. In her tailored lilac day suit, Rose stepped quickly down the path, attempting to distance herself from the manservant that was Spicer Lovejoy.

The spring air was fresh and clean. The sounds of traffic were not audible through the thick trees of the park, and the usual city smells had not penetrated here. It was a Sunday, late in May of 1912, and Rose was taking her usual afternoon walk. And as he usually did these days, Cal had requested that Mr. Lovejoy accompany her.

She walked on, as her curly red hair blew from the wind. She placed one regal hand over her face, trying to shield herself. And then the wind receded, and her porcelain face was once again visible to the park. Her bright green eyes glazed over in the horrid thoughts of what was to come.

The wedding was in one week. One week, and Rose would bound to Caledon Hockley, and her chains would, on that day, be locked, and the key thrown away. Her mother Ruth was caught up in the excitement, dashing around town this last week, making sure everything was perfect, every detailed mastered. Of course she'd be excited, Rose thought. All this marriage meant to Ruth was financial security; the promise that her place in society, her stature, and her rank, would remain where they were; high. If anyone were to discover the truth about the late John Dewitt Bukater and his bad business deals, it would mean the end of Ruth's career as a Philadelphia socialite. But selling Rose off, and to Rose it did indeed seem like she was being sold, would calm her fears forever.

Rose sighed as she reached up to adjust her sun hat. She looked down at the flowers in her hand; they were already beginning to wilt. Just like she was. Wilting slowly, under the grasp of the man she was to marry the very next Sunday.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Jack Dawson was putting the final touches on the charcoal portrait of a little girl. The girl herself waited eagerly in her father's lap, her little fingers fidgeting, her thick mane of dark curls blowing in the sudden wind. Jack took one last look at the drawing, signed the initials JD at the bottom, dated it, and looked up smiling.

The little girl jumped excitedly from her father's lap, and over to Jack. He smiled warmly and handed the drawing to her. She held it in her hands, mesmerized by it, it seemed. She looked up in awe at him.

"Thank you, mister."

"Well, you're welcome. My name's Jack. What's yours?"

She giggled. "My name's Cora, and that's my daddy." she said matter-of-factly, pointing at the warm looking man, who was smiling at the tender scene.

The man then proceeded to reach in his pocket, to pull out some change, but Jack held his hand up.

"Oh, no sir. No charge--my pleasure."

Cora giggled once more, and ran over to her father, taking his hand.

"Thank you." The older man replied.

Jack just smiled and waved. Little Cora, suddenly terribly shy, waved back slightly, and then the two were gone, walking down the pathway happily, Cora still clutching the drawing in her tiny hand.

Jack sighed and shook his head back and forth.

"Dawson," he said to himself, "you've got to stop being so vulnerable. You've got to EAT." Jack laughed to himself, as he started picking up his supplies, that were scattered all over the wooden bench. He was an artist, and he came here every weekend to draw portraits in the park. Philadelphia was just so peaceful in the spring.

He bent down to organize his paper. His shaggy blond hair fell in front of gorgeous blue eyes, but he swatted in out of his face good naturedly. He was about to close up his portfolio when a single sheet of paper blew from the folder, flying down the pathway, intent on getting away from it's owner.

Jack sighed, and setting the portfolio carefully on the bench, he jogged after it. Normally, he wouldn't care, but this one drawing he'd only done this morning, and he didn't want to lose it. He searched the ground for the paper, and then he finally spotted it. The drawing lay in front of a pair of delicate, polished, white shoes. Before he knew it, the owner of the shoes was bending down to pick it up.

As she stood back up, Jack caught her eye, and without realizing it, began to stare intently into Rose's face. Completely mesmerized by the beauty that stood before him, he forgot all about his drawing.

Rose giggled slightly, her mind temporarily taken from her depressing thoughts.

"I take it this is yours, mister?" she said daintily, slightly teasing him.

Jack was shaken out of his trance as she spoke.

"Oh...Oh...yes, yes, I mean, yeah, that's mine...thank you."

Rose smiled and handed the paper to him.

"Your welcome. Are you okay?"

Jack blushed at this comment, realizing what a fool he'd made of himself.

"I'm, I'm fine." He laughed slightly, not being able to control himself.

Rose smiled and studied the man before her. He was tall, with a lithe build. His blonde hair hung over his eyes in a dangerously cute way. His clothes suggested those of a lower class, but his smile was purely contagious.

Jack offered his hand to her, "Thank you." he said smiling.

Rose shook his hand gently, as their eyes locked once again. Jack looked quickly away after a few seconds, realizing how much he'd been staring.

Jack had been holding the paper right side up, and Rose glanced down at it, surprised at how beautiful the portrait on it was.

"Are you an artist?" she asked excitedly, a small bit of childish curiosity hitting her voice.

Jack seemed surprised that she would want to continue their conversation, but he answered her.

"Yes, actually, I am." he smiled.

Rose delved further- "Do you have anymore drawings with you...that I could see?"

Jack was completely taken aback. To him, Rose appeared as some sort of goddess; with her long red locks, her broad hat and fancy daywear. Right down to her perfectly manicured nails, she screamed "First Class."

"Oh...yes. They're right over here. Would you like to..."

But Rose was already headed for the bench where she spotted the portfolio. She sat down and picked it up gently. Jack came and hesitantly sat beside her, watching as she examined his work.

But then she looked up suddenly, as if realizing something.

"JD? What is your name, if I may ask?" she smiled.

"Jack. Jack Dawson."

"I'm Rose, Rose Dewitt Bukater."

"May have to get you to write that one down..." he smiled at her, and she giggled, but then looked back down at his collection of drawings.

Her eyes were mesmerized with the simplistic beauty on the paper she held. This drawing was obviously of a farm. The barn in the picture was old and rustic, the sun setting in the background.

She turned the page slowly, and the image of an old train station met her eye. On a bench in the picture, two old ladies sat laughing. It seemed as if their essence, their souls, were trapped wholly in the paper; it took Rose's breath away. Following were several scenic pictures, of rolling hills and wide fields, birds nesting.

She looked up, mesmerized, and stared deeply at him.

"Mr. Dawson, this is exquisite work..."

Jack looked up to meet her eye.

Looking straight at her, he replied, "Jack, call me Jack."

"Okay, Jack..." she smiled, but Jack continued to look in her eyes. Staring deeply into them, he saw something he'd missed before. There was a sadness behind them, somehow hidden by her forwardness. She hesitated before looking back down.

"You didn't see any of this here." he stated, meaning Philadelphia.

Jack laughed. "No, no, I drew these on the train, coming here."

"Where are you from, Jack?" she looked back up at him.

"Originally? Chippewa Falls- Wisconsin, actually. But I was coming from Europe- well, New York." he said, his eyes glazing over as if remembering something.

"Europe? Wow...why were you...?"

"My folks died when I was fifteen- in Wisconsin. I had no brothers or sisters or close kin in that part of the country, so I lit on out of there- and I haven't been back since..."

Rose smiled.

Jack continued, "I went to Europe to draw. For my 'big break,' I guess. I had a great time, but..."

Rose's eyes met his. "But what, Jack?"

"I didn't find what I wanted, I guess you'd say..."

Rose stared into his eyes, taken aback by his emotional statement.

She then picked up the drawing of the two old ladies and stared at it as she talked.

"You see people." Jack stared at her from the side, admiring the look on her face.

"So you came back to the states?" she continued.

Jack nodded, "Yeah- I didn't want to stay in New York, so I thought I'd give it a try here...my art..."

Rose smiled to herself. Jack was so open, so honest, so sincere.

As Rose examined some more of his drawings, Jack's eyes wandered to the large diamond on her finger.

Rose felt his eyes on her and noticed what had caught his attention right away.

"Pretty hideous looking, isn't it?" she whispered sadly.

Jack looked up at her wonderingly.

"Who gave it to you..." Jack knew he was hinting badly, but he wanted to know.

Rose giggled. "My..." her face fell noticeably, and that sad look in her eyes returned, "my fiancé gave it to me. I'm...I'm engaged."

Jack nodded knowingly, "Ah..." He smiled.

She continued to stare straight ahead of her, as if lost in a world of her own.

"Do you love him?"

Rose turned to him, a surprised look on her face. "What?"

"Do you love him?" Jack looked into her eyes sincerely. She saw such an intensity in his eyes, they were so blue...

"You shouldn't be asking me this..."

Jack laughed. "It's a simple question- do you love the guy or not?"

Rose stared in awe of him. With quite the smirk on her face, she placed the portfolio to the side and stood up.

"This is not a suitable conversation to be having."

Jack then stood up with her.

He laughed, "Why can't you just answer the question?"

She was now getting quite the laugh herself.

"You are rude, and uncouth, and presumptuous, and I am LEAVING now- Jack- Mr. Dawson- it's been a pleasure." She turned to leave, but looked back behind her and stopped. Jack was laughing heartily at the scene.

"You are so annoying."

"I thought you were leaving," Jack laughed, his eyes dancing.

"I am..." She tossed her head to the side and tried to appear arrogant.

"Thank you Mr. Dawson." She turned all the way back to face him, once again caught in his stare. Her face grew serious.

"Jack, I'm sorry I was rude, I..."

Jack sobered from the laughing, "It's okay, Rose." He smiled.

She smiled back at him and continued, "Thank you- for showing me your drawings...you have a gift Jack."

Jack looked at her tenderly and offered his hand once more.

"Thank you Rose."

Rose took his hand. As she put her gloves back on, an idea struck her.

"Do you come here often?"

"Every weekend." he laughed slightly.

Rose blushed, realizing that he knew why she was asking.

"Maybe I'll see you again, then."

"Maybe..." he looked at her wistfully. "And congratulations- on your engagement..."

Rose's eyes glazed, and Jack could have sworn he saw a tear form in her eye.

"Thank you." she said quickly.

"Goodbye, Jack. Nice to meet you..."

"Goodbye Rose." He smiled, and then curled his hand into a darling little wave, his eyes again seeming to dance.

She laughed and gave a single wave.

She turned to leave and spotted Mr. Lovejoy staring straight past her- at Jack.

She'd forgotten he was even there, and he'd seen the whole thing...

Chapter Two
Stories