REUNION AND CONFRONTATION, 1925
Chapter Five

Rose reached the landing. She looked longingly at the door to the Powder Room. It would only take a second to splash some cool water on her face and neck. It was warm for June and she felt she needed something to revive her after sitting in the stuffy dining room.

A few moments later, she walked back out into the landing, lost in her thoughts about how wonderful it was that Jack and Fabrizio had found each other. Suddenly her path was blocked by a massive figure in black. Rose gasped.

"So you survived," drawled Cal.

Cal gave her a dark look. Rose could see that not only was Cal angry, but he was also drunk. Leave it to Cal to keep himself supplied with whiskey even during Prohibition. She knew he used to enjoy his brandies, but she had never seen him in quite a state like this.

"Cal, please forget that you saw me," she said.

Cal sneered at her and then spoke.

"Forget about you? Hardly likely, my dear. You've caused me way too much trouble to forget about you. When we decided that you must be dead, my father insisted that I marry and he found some simpering frigid idiot that can't have children to carry my name."

"That's just as well, Cal, because you aren't fit to be a father."

Her comment drove him into a rage. His hand came from nowhere and he slapped her in the face. When her own hand came up automatically to protect herself, he saw her plain gold wedding band. He grabbed her wrist.

"So, I see that you got some fool to marry you. You, the leavings of that gutter rat."

Rose did not respond. She still hoped she could reason with Cal and get away from him. He was blocking her way and her jaw hurt from his blow. She could hardly speak. But one thing was for sure. She was not going to rile him any further by telling him that Jack was her husband.

As she tried to move away from him, he lunged at her. He grabbed her wrists and with his body pushed her against the wall. Her face was wedged between his body and the wall.

"You owe me, Rose. You owe me for humiliating me on Titanic when you and that Dawson had your little fling. What happened to him anyway?" he demanded.

Rose struggled against him, but she would not answer that question.

Instead she pleaded, "Please Cal, let me go."

But she could not move. The dead weight of his drunken body made it impossible for her to do anything. From downstairs, she could hear the musicians Fabrizio hired, tuning up their instruments. This evening, which was to have been so special, had turned into her worst nightmare. Even if she screamed now, Jack would not hear her. There was a small table next to her. Maybe when the music stopped, she could try and knock it over and attract some attention. She would have to stall and endure Cal until then.

"Tonight you are not getting away. I want the necklace Rose. Where is it?"

"I don't know. I never saw it. Everything from the ship was taken away in the hospital."

His hand came up to hit her again. She turned her face to the wall in an effort to stop his blow.

"Please Cal, stop," she begged. "That's all that ever mattered to you, your material goods. I was just another trophy."

Cal had no more patience to listen to her.

"Well, tonight I am getting what I deserve. I suppose having you will make up for the necklace."

His mouth clamped down on hers and his left hand started moving across her neck and into her dress.

* * * * * * * * * *

Jack watched the stairs, waiting for Rose to return. She had been gone quite a while and he could not understand where she was. He was about to go looking for her. He was only half aware of the conversation he was having with Nora and Fabrizio. The music stopped and in the distance there was a soft thump and the sound of breaking glass.

Instantly alert, Jack said, "What was that?"

"Oh, probably something in the kitchen," answered Fabrizio.

But an alarm bell went off in Jack's head. Rose, he thought. She should have been back by now.

Jack tore up the stairs two at a time. He lost all reason when he reached the landing and saw the scene in front of him. Rose and a large man dressed in black were struggling. Without seeing the face, Jack knew who her attacker was. He flew across the room and pulled Cal off of her. He spun him around and punched him squarely in the jaw. Cal went sprawling, not knowing what hit him. He hit his head on one of the chairs and was temporarily stunned.

Jack yelled for Fabrizio, then took Rose in his arms and tried to comfort her.

"Are you all right?" he asked, as he touched her hair and back gently.

She nodded. As Jack rocked her in his arms and talked softly to her, the realization of what had happened began to sink in and she began to cry.

"Shh, Rose. He'll never bother you again. This time, I'll make sure."

Fabrizio and Nora came up the stairs. Nora led her friend to a chair and put her arms protectively around Rose.

"What do you want me to do, Jack?" ask Fabrizio.

"Just stay right there, and be a witness to all this. Don't let him get past the stairs," Jack instructed.

Cal began to stir. Jack pulled him up by the lapels of his suit and threw him against the wall. Cal now realized who had hit him.

Having no remorse whatsoever, he smirked at Jack.

"So, she married the gutter rat after all."

Jack was not willing to take anymore comments from Cal. With this remark, he shoved him against the wall again. Jack, the old scrappy Jack, who had once survived on the streets of the world, gave Hockley an ultimatum.

"Cal, tonight, we are playing by my rules."

Cal was still somewhat intoxicated. But he was coherent enough to argue with Jack.

"And just might those rules be, Dawson?" he mocked. "What kind of rules do you know about? You don't know the rules about being a gentleman."

Jack gave him a disgusted look.

"Cal, the gentlemen I know, don't go around accosting other men's wives. You have a choice, Cal. You do what I say, or you will leave here with the police, with reporters following you. I WILL press charges for the assault of my wife. Do you hear me, Cal?"

Cal grew limp. He knew that Jack was stronger and more agile that he was. He saw Fabrizio standing nearby. For once, he was cornered and by Dawson of all people.

"First, Cal, you will apologize to my wife."

Cal looked at Rose, but the words did not come. He was not sorry. He could have had Rose, but he had not been able to prevent her from knocking the table over. Jack tightened his grip on Cal's suit.

Jack was getting impatient. "I'm waiting, Cal."

Cal narrowed his eyes.

"Alright, I made a mistake. I apologize, Rose," said Cal, sounding insincere.

Rose kept her head down. She would not look at Cal. She was only thinking how grateful she was that she had escaped marriage to this monster.

"Cal, if you ever look at her again, you are a dead man. Have I made myself clear Hockley?" asked Jack.

Cal nodded. He had greatly underestimated Jack Dawson. He had certainly come a long way from the shaggy steerage passenger he remembered from Titanic.

"Now, one more thing, Cal. You will also apologize to me, for framing me with the necklace and leaving me to die."

Cal looked at Jack again. He could not, would not, stoop so low as to apologize to Jack Dawson. Jack was staring at him, waiting for an answer. Cal could feel Jack's hands clutching his suit. He had nowhere to go. He had two choices, be sorry or be humiliated in the newspapers.

"Alright, Dawson. I know when I am beaten. I apologize."

There were footsteps coming up the stairway and several well dressed gentlemen came forward.

One of them, an older man, asked, "Cal, where have you been? Are you alright?"

Cal looked at Jack and said nothing. Instead, Jack answered.

"I think Cal had a little too much bootleg. He fell against some furniture. He's thinking a little more clearly."

Cal watched Jack carefully. He reluctantly had to admit, that while Jack might not be a member the upper class, he was enough of a gentleman not to say what had really happened just now. Jack lightly punched Cal in the shoulder, in what the others thought was a good natured move.

"Remember what I said, Cal," Jack reminded him.

Cal looked into Jack's eyes, knowing what he meant. He nodded his head.

"Come on, Cal. Let's take you downstairs, where it's cooler," said one of his friends.

Cal allowed himself to be led from the room. As he approached the stairs, he was about to turn his head and look at Rose once more. Then he remembered Jack's admonition never to set eyes on her again. As if to himself, he nodded and walked down the stairs.

Jack watched as Cal and his party went back to their room. When he was younger he had always wanted to get even with Cal, to hurt him physically, for the way he had treated Rose. He was sorry now that he had stooped to Cal's level of violence. But he'd had to protect Rose. Now he couldn't summon up any hatred for Cal. Just pity. Pity for that spoiled, arrogant excuse of a human being. He was certain that they had seen the last of Hockley.

Rose was being fussed over by Nora and Fabrizio.

"I am so sorry this happened here," said Fabrizio.

Rose put her hand out to him. "Oh, Fabrizio, it's not your fault," said Rose. "I think I am better now. I want to stay and finish the evening."

"Are you sure?" asked Nora.

Rose nodded. "Yes," she said with some of her old fire coming back. "I don't want to give Cal the satisfaction of seeing me leave."

Jack came over and he too asked her if she really wanted to stay. Rose put her hands up in front of her.

"I'll be fine, really I will," she insisted. "Please, let's go and enjoy the rest of the evening."

A few hours later, Fabrizio and Nora saw their friends off in a taxi. The evening had been a success, despite the distraction of the scene with Cal. Rose and Jack's children were sleepy and stuffed with food. They had not heard the commotion in the hall upstairs. They had had so much fun, that they didn't even notice their mother was quieter than usual. All the way home they talked about the antics of the baby, Sean and how much fun it would be to have one of their own. Over their heads, Jack and Rose looked at each other and smiled.

* * * * * * * * * * *

Much later

The children were tucked in bed in the other room and Rose was asleep across the room from him. The bedroom was dark and Jack paced the room. It was quiet except for the sound of the traffic down below and the occasional toot of a tugboat on the river. He was still angered by the episode with Cal.

For thirteen years, it seemed that everywhere they turned, something to do with Titanic had crossed their paths. First, it had been Rose's recovery, the stories from the inquiries and the bodies that had been found. Over the years, there were reports that someone who had been aboard had died or committed suicide. People even made sick jokes, when ideas of plans did not work out, saying that it had sunk like the Titanic.

Jack looked at Rose in the dim light. It was time to lay Titanic to rest once and for all. He had Rose, their children and his friend Fabrizio. And now he had set things straight with Hockley.

"I can't let this eat away at me anymore," he thought.

Jack looked at his old leather art folder that was laying on the dresser, the same one that Molly had bought for him in 1912. He glanced at the sleeping form of Rose and an idea came to his mind.

He turned on the little light next to the chair and sat down. He glanced up as Rose stirred, but she did not wake up. He sharpened his pencils and began to draw. It was a drawing that he had wanted to do to thirteen years. But he had never been ready until now.

As he sketched, the form of a woman appeared on the paper. It was Rose, Rose in the pose in which he had drawn her that night on Titanic. That first drawing of her that was now on the bottom of the Atlantic. There was one difference, however. Instead of the Heart of the Ocean around her neck, she wore his pearls. He dated it and put it on the nightstand where she would see it when she awoke. Maybe now, they would be free of Titanic.

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

Epilogue

"Good bye, Jack, Rose, bye kids." Fabrizio and Nora were walking quickly next to the heavy green Pullman car as the Twentieth Century Limited pulled out of the station. Jack and Rose and their children stood crowded together in the vestibule window, waving. Finally the train picked up speed and Nora and Fabrizio had reached the end of the platform. The Dawsons gave one last wave and then they went inside the car to get settled for their trip to Chicago.

Jack turned to Rose, as he helped her find the bags that they would need for the first leg of the trip back to Denver.

"This really was some week, wasn't it?" Jack asked. "I am so glad we came. Finding Fabrizio gave me so much happiness. And even though they live far away, just to know he is alive, is something that makes everything complete."

"Yes," agreed Rose. "It was wonderful, and I am so happy things worked out for him. Maybe they will come and visit us sometime."

"Rose," began Jack, "I am sorry about that little scene with Hockley. I could have done without that."

"Well, darling," said Rose, "I do have one little regret."

Jack looked up not knowing what Rose meant. Surely she could not possibly mean that she was sorry that she had not married Cal.

"What's that?" asked Jack.

"Well, you hurried him out of there so fast, that I couldn't give him another demonstration of how well I can spit like a man."

Rose giggled with a mischievous look on her face. Jack joined in her laughter. He was glad that she had recovered from the nasty incident. That was what he loved about Rose. A proper lady, a naughty schoolgirl, always reliable, totally unpredictable.

They had come back from the dining car after dinner. Amidst the struggle of the berths being made up and moving the suitcases around, the children managed to get ready for bed. Now Rose was reading in the lower berth waiting for Jack to come back from the restroom at the end of the car. She could hear him whispering to the children, seeing that they were settled down for the night. At last, the heavy brown curtain parted and he climbed in.

"Turn out the light, Rose."

Rose reached up and turned off the little reading lamp.

"Now open the shade, Rose," Jack told her.

She looked at him with a mildly shocked expression.

"Jack, are you mad? We can't ride around in our nightclothes with the shade open."

"Come on, Rose, open it," he urged. "Open it. If you don't, I will."

"Jack, no."

He reached over and lifted the shade. Rose gasped, speechless at the site that awaited her. There, on the horizon was the moon, a primal looking golden orb, rising in the sky.

"Oh, Jack," she sighed, "I've never seen anything like it."

"Yes," responded Jack, looking at her, not the moon. "Now don't tell me it's not proper. The man in the moon won't give away any of our secrets."

"It's beautiful, Jack," she whispered. "I guess that what makes our life so special. You are always finding things like this to show me."

Jack looked down at her for a moment. Then he said, "You know, I think you and I have a request to fulfill."

She looked puzzled.

"What? What are you talking about?" she wondered.

"Our children have put in a request for a baby, Rose. Don't you remember?" he asked.

"Jack, are you serious?" Rose questioned.

"Why not?" he replied.

"No, Jack, not here."

"Why not?" he said, pressing for her to agree.

He studied her and traced her face with his finger.

"Mrs. Dawson, I've learned a few things over the years."

"Really," she said, tilting her head and giving him a smile. "And just what have you learned?"

He chuckled and said, "When you say 'No, Jack, no,' you really mean yes."

She touched his face and looked into his eyes.

"Well, I've learned a few things too, Jack. When you look at me like that, you can have whatever you want."

* * * * * * * * * *

Patrick Thomas Dawson was born on March 17, 1926.

The End.

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