PHILADELPHIA IN SPRING
Epilogue

Santa Monica, Early June, 1913

"Jack, will you get the glasses?" Rose turned her head as she spoke, her hair catching the light summer breeze as it blew in from the ocean She shielded her eyes from the bright sun, high in the afternoon sky-

"One second, Rose." She smiled to herself, and looked straight ahead, out toward the gleam of the blue ocean, which was sparkling in the warm glow of the sun. Bathers were scattered sparsely over the slightly rocky beach, their umbrellas and picnic baskets visible even from the height Rose stood at. The waves crashed lightly on the shore, as if even the sea was exhausted from the heat as well, lazily basking in it.

"Here we go." Jack's voice grew closer as he walked out unto their small deck, holding two glasses in his hand. Rose turned around, her hand still up, protecting her eyes. She smiled at him warmly, then crossed the small stone platform, and stood in front of him.

"Ready to sit down?" he asked, pulling out her chair. His blue eyes were shining in the light of the day, and they seemed like oceans in themselves. Rose put her hand down and sat carefully in the chair, positioning it out toward the scene before them. Jack did the same with his chair, scooting it next to hers.

"Are you alright? Not too hot, Rose?" he asked worriedly, reaching out to place his hand softly on her very pregnant stomach. She turned her face toward his, smiling comfortingly at him. "I'm fine Jack. It's gorgeous out here today." She placed her hand over his, rubbing it gently.

Jack smiled back at her, studying her profile as she gazed out toward the ocean. He loved the way her eyes danced now, with color and vibrancy. He looked down at her hand covering his, her wedding band catching his eye. They'd been married a little over year. The ceremony was a small one; just the two of them and the pastor, on the beach, a few days after they'd arrived in Santa Monica, in June of 1912.

The ring on her finger was simple, and probably nowhere near what Caledon Hockley would have presented her with, but she had insisted that it was the most beautiful one she'd ever seen.

Jack turned his own gaze out towards the endless sea, his thoughts returning to those first few months. It had been hard at first, for neither of them knew a single soul here, nor did they have much money to start out with. Only the sum Rose's mother had given her, and the little Jack had managed to save up that first month in Philadelphia. They'd taken up residence at first in a small boarding house, with little more than one room of their own. Jack had gotten a job at an art store on the pier, at first just behind the counter. Rose insisted on finding work also to help, and she ended up part time as a waitress in a small, but elegant cafe near the art store. They would meet each other on the pier after work, sometimes just strolling, talking, in the glow of the sunset. Jack would often get out his sketchbook, and draw Rose there, the ocean behind her, her curls billowing in the wind. She was his inspiration, keeping him going, when work became a chore, when he began to worry about how she was handling all of the changes in her life. He remembered one conversation they'd had, about three months after they'd gotten married, and arrived in Santa Monica.

The sun was setting over the sea, the purple, pink, and yellow hues casting a beautiful shadow over the beach. He'd been late meeting her after work, because he's had to close up, and knew he'd find her there. That spot on the beach, near a small jetty, had become theirs. He'd walked up behind her, cautiously. Her back was turned, her hair shining in the afterglow of the sun, her shoulders slightly limp. He'd been so afraid she was mad; he'd been working so much, but only so they'd be able to buy a house soon. He'd stood there a long time, just gazing at her, still not even believing his wonderful fate, that Rose Dewitt Bukater, Philadelphia debutante, had married him, moved with him to this gorgeous place.

Then he'd come to sit by her, and for a while, neither said anything.

"I'm sorry Rose. Jonah made me close up."

Rose had turned to him, a comforting look in her eyes, not even a hint of anger showing in them-

"It's okay Jack- I understand. I just hate not being able to see you."

Jack had stared at her, intently, tenderly for a few seconds. Then he'd taken her in his arms, pulling her into his lap. He put his hands on top of hers, caressing them softly as he spoke.

"This is just for a little while Rose. Until we can find a house, and I can find a better job. I don't want to be away from you either, and I promise, soon, it'll be better than this, Rose...I know how different all of this is for you- I know..."

Rose leaned her head back against his chest, and placed one of her hands over his mouth, silencing him.

"Jack, don't talk like that. As long as we're together, it doesn't matter to me, where we live or what we do. What I used to have, Jack- you know I hated it, and you've given me more than anyone in my old life could have..." She positioned herself so she was looking him straight in the eyes, her hand still on his face. She smiled.

"You saved me, Jack." Jack smiled, his eyes gazing softly into hers.

"I love you, Rose."

"I love you too, Jack." She smiled and brought her lips up to his, kissing him gently.

Then she brought her head back down, turning it to face the ocean once more, snuggling up in the nape of Jack's neck. And they'd watched the sun as it finished setting in the sky, as the embers turned to a soft black. The wonderful truth of Rose's words awed Jack, comforted him, like nothing else could. He'd known, that very night- that everything would be okay-

Jack was brought back to the present as Rose poured some of the cold juice in the pitcher into his glass. She handed it to him, and he leaned in to kiss her.

After the kiss, she settled back into her chair. "What were you thinking about, Jack?"

"How far we've come, about this last year, everything I guess." He turned to look at her sideways, his eyes soft and content.

She smiled at him. "I love the fact that you are a hopeless romantic," she said, the smile still playing on her face.

Jack chuckled, then took a sip from his glass, relishing the feel of the cool liquid in his throat.

"I am, huh?"

His thoughts were once again returning to the year before.

"Remember the day we went on the roller coaster, Rose?" She started laughing, as she herself recalled the day late last year.

"How could I forget, Jack? After all that beer, you really did throw up."

"Very funny." He teased her. They'd gone, as he had promised in that small cafe in Philadelphia, and had the time of their life. Drinking the cheap beer, riding the roller coaster: until he really did throw up. And they'd ridden horses in the surf, that fall, as Jack kept his other promise, to teach Rose "how to ride like a man."

He turned back to her, reaching out for her hand.

In August, Jonah Miller, the owner of the art store Jack worked for, caught a glimpse of some of his employee's work, some of his sketches of Rose and the pier. He'd offered Jack a small spot in the display window, and before anyone could believe it, his sketches, and later paintings, had begun to sell like hotcakes, barely in the window a day before being purchased. Jack became somewhat of a celebrity on the pier, as more and more people bought his drawings. Jonah then offered Jack a large space in his store, and soon, he was making enough money for Rose to quit her job. They had found this house, immediately falling in love with it. It was small, and cozy- right over one of the smaller beaches. A set of doors opened right out unto this deck, where they were sitting now, offering this wonderful view of the scenery around them. The house was a light blue, with yellow accents on the windows, and Rose had worked wonders inside, some of her upbringing actually coming in handy with the decorating. They'd settled into the house in late September. In November, Rose had informed Jack that she was pregnant, over a beautiful candlelit dinner that she had prepared herself. Jack continued to work, producing sketches, paintings, and starting with custom work, doing personal portraits as well. But Rose remained his muse, and he continued to draw her, mostly by the ocean, sometimes in the privacy of their house.

And now it was early June. They’d just celebrated their one year anniversary, and the baby was due at the end of July.

Jack poured himself some more juice, having finished off his first glass.

"We're so lucky Jack." Rose said suddenly, smiling at him.

"Yes we are, Rose- come here." He sat his glass down and jumped up from his chair, then helped Rose from hers. He led her to the stone balcony of the deck, where she'd been standing earlier.

She stood in front of him, and his hands came up behind her, encircling the top of her stomach.

She leaned her head back against his chest, breathing in his warm scent.

"You're going to be a wonderful father, Jack."

Jack smiled and kissed her hair. "You really think so?"

She smiled out to the ocean before her. "I know so, Jack."

Jack brought his lips to her ear, and traced his hands over her arms.

"Come Josephine, in my flying machine..." She laughed softly, her brilliant youth shining in the sun, as Jack continued to sing in her ear. She'd turned 18 in September, and Jack had celebrated his 21st birthday in August. Still so young, but so in love, and now a child on the way.

Rose took a deep breath, tasting the salty air.

Jack bent his head down, leaning in to kiss her. She draped her arm across his neck, deepening the kiss. Below them, several children ran, laughing, in the gentle waves, but Jack and Rose were oblivious to it all. They were lost in their passion, in their thoughts; how far they'd come, about the baby due so soon, but mostly- about how their love had conquered all. Through adversity, destiny had brought them together- forever binding their lives, and their love-

And they'd always remember- where they met, how they met- They would always cherish the beauty, of Philadelphia In Spring-

The End.

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