ROMANOV AUTUMN
Chapter Forty-Seven
Jack awoke around 7:30 the
following morning and made sure all of his and Mac's things were in their
respective bags before waking his daughter. He could smell bacon sizzling from
downstairs after entering the child's room. He gently gave her shoulder a
shake.
"Mmm," Mac whined, not
wanting to get up just yet. Her bed was so comfortable that she wanted nothing
more than to remain in it for another couple of hours.
"I'm sorry,
sweetheart," Jack apologized, "but we have to eat some breakfast and
get to the docks on time."
Mac sat up, her irritated
expression changing almost immediately to one of excitement. She couldn't wait
to go sailing over the ocean on a great big ship!
"Let's go!" she
exclaimed. Jack laughed at her sudden burst of enthusiasm before grabbing her
arm.
"I don't think it would be
quite appropriate to go to breakfast in your nightgown," he scolded
gently. She looked a little sheepish. "Let me help you put on your nice
dress, and then we'll meet Mr. Rockefeller and Margarita. Okay?"
Mac nodded and raised her arms
over her head, allowing her father to remove the nightgown. She allowed him to
tug the small dress on and button the back, though she made an awful face when
he attempted to put on her stockings and shoes.
"Why do girls have to wear
dresses?" she complained. "They're so stiff and itchy!"
Jack chuckled, leading her
downstairs, where breakfast was already on the table. "Once again, you
have spoiled us," Jack teased as Margarita laid out the plates, napkins,
forks, knives, and glasses.
"It is the least we can
do," she replied. "Well! Are both of you ready for the great sailing
day?"
Mac bounced in her seat, unable
to keep still.
"Oh, yes!" she replied
eagerly. "I've never seen the ocean before!"
Jack realized this at once. Mac
would have been too young if Olivia and Henry had decided to take her to the
seashore, though from the looks of things they never got around to it.
"You will enjoy it,"
Margarita promised. "Perhaps there will be dolphins, no?" She raised
her eyes at Jack, urging him to help himself to the food. Mr. Rockefeller
entered the dining room at that very moment, carrying a newspaper in one hand
and his cane in the other.
"Good morning," he
greeted, and Mac waved, her mouth full of eggs and fried potatoes.
"Doesn't she look stunning?" he complimented. Jack gave his daughter
a gentle touch on the shoulder.
"Always does," Jack
replied. Mac continued to eat her breakfast.
At ten o'clock, as planned, Mr.
Rockefeller drove them in his carriage to the docks. Margarita did not come
along this time, as there was much to be done for an upcoming dinner party that
evening.
"It's a shame you couldn't
stay to see my son and his wife." Mr. Rockefeller sighed. "They would
have been thrilled to see your little one."
Jack smiled. "I wish I could
see them again," he agreed. "Give them my regards."
"Of course." Mr.
Rockefeller pulled up in front of the docks and the footman opened the door for
the guests to step out onto the cobblestones.
"Good-bye and good luck to
both of you," the old man announced. Mac immediately embraced him in a
tight hug. Jack felt his throat choking up slightly, and when she released her
grasp, Mr. Rockefeller shook hands with him.
"Thank you for
everything," Jack replied. Mr. Rockefeller shook his head.
"Anytime, son.
Anytime."
"Good-bye, sir!" Mac
called as they started to walk towards the ship's ramp. She turned towards it.
"Wow, Papa, look at how big it is!" She pointed. He pulled the
tickets from his trouser pocket.
"It is very big,
honey," he agreed. "You're going to have to stay close to me so you
don't get lost."
"Okay," she promised,
and took hold of his hand. Jack felt incredibly lucky to have secured second
class tickets, compliments of Mr. Rockefeller. He was quite certain the old man
would have wanted them to travel first class, but Jack wouldn't have allowed
such favors.
The officer took both of their
tickets at the gate and allowed them to board the ship. Jack remembered the
Baltic quite well, having sailed on it from New York to Russia and back before.
Last time he boarded this vessel, he was with Alyiah, and she'd been terribly
ill for most of the journey.
"Come on," he
encouraged, noticing that Mac had stopped to stare at the high ceilings and the
beautiful oak and pine designs.
She continued to walk beside him.
They made their way to a medium-sized suite located on the middle deck of the ship.
"Look, a window!" Mac exclaimed when he opened the door. She
immediately rushed into the room so she could peer through it. "I can see
the water out there! Look, Papa!"
He set their bags down on the
floor and joined her at the porthole.
"Very true, sweetheart,"
he replied. She beamed at him. "Did you want to take a walk on the deck
and watch everyone down on the street?"
Mac nodded eagerly, hopping up
and down as they left the cabin and made their way outside. Once on deck, Mac
peered through the railing, allowing the cool sea breeze to wash over her face.
"Be careful," he
warned. "You don't want to fall through."
Mac looked at him with wide eyes,
immediately stepping back a pace. She leaned against him, allowing her father
to place an arm around her shoulders.
"I dreamed about traveling
the world with you," she admitted. Jack looked down at her.
"Did you now?" He
ruffled her hair playfully. She swatted at his hand.
"Yes," she replied.
"Aunt Olive and Uncle Henry used to tell stories about all the places
you've been to!"
Jack laughed. "I see!"
He cleared his throat, leaning on the rail. "Well, I can tell you one
thing. Europe holds quite a few special memories for me. I met your mama in
Paris where she was a dancer for the imperial ballet. We traveled through
England, Ireland, and Spain together after we got married in 1900."
Mac stared at him. "Mama was
a dancer?" she gasped. "Was she any good?"
Jack smiled. "She was very
good," he said. "She actually taught ballet in Chippewa Falls for a
few years before having you."
Mac smiled, peering up at the
sky. "I wish I could have met her," she pondered. Jack pulled his
daughter into a hug.
"I wish you could have met
your mother, too, sweetheart. She would be so proud of you."
"Did you and Mama dance
together a lot?" Mac asked as they continued to walk up and down the deck,
taking in the fresh early afternoon air.
"In fact, we did." Jack
chuckled. Mac stood in front of him.
"Will you dance with
me?" she asked, holding up her small hands. Jack couldn't help but swell
with pride.
"I would be honored,"
he replied, gently beginning to twirl her in a simple three-step waltz. She
giggled as he spun her around. The other passengers paused to watch the
adorable scene before them. When Mac accidentally tripped over her father's
foot, she tumbled onto her behind with a gasp.
"Are you all right?" He
knelt down. Almost immediately, she began giggling.
"Yes," she promised.
"That was fun! Can we do it again?"
Jack gave her a pat on the
shoulder, promising he would teach her to dance when she got a bit taller.
"But I'm a big girl
now," Mac whined. "Aunt Olive told me so!"
"Yes, you are," Jack
agreed, "but you still have some growing to do. I don't want you to get
hurt."
Mac sighed, scuffing the side of
her shoe against the wood.
Around suppertime, Jack brought
her to the dining hall. He tried to think of pleasant stories to tell her about
the time he spent with Alyiah. The last thing he wanted was to go into details
regarding her death. He decided that when Mac was old enough to handle it and
asked, he would reveal the information.
Mac listened with a dreamy
expression on her face, barely paying any attention to the food in front of
her.
That night, Jack read a bit of Treasure
Island to his daughter, watching as her dark eyes slowly drifted shut.
Eventually he closed the book, set it aside, and tucked her in before turning
out the lamp.