THE SHIP OF DREAMS
Chapter Fourteen

Rose returned to her cabin around 11:30, and found Coddie Anna sound asleep in her bed. Rose tiptoed over to her daughter, tucking her in a bit more, and gently kissed the child’s forehead. Coddie Anna opened her bright blue eyes at her mother’s touch, and quickly sat up. "You’re back…where have you been?" the girl demanded.

Rose sighed and sat down on the bed, folding her hands unconsciously in her lap. "Well, Coddie, Mr. Dawson invited me to a little party in steerage…" She immediately felt guilty when she saw the hurt in Coddie Anna’s eyes as she said the words. The little girl stood up, her pale cheeks tinted pink with rage, and her fists balled up at her sides. She looked like an angry ghost in her plain white linen nightgown that barely reached her ankles, her auburn hair messy from being spread out on the pillow.

"You went to a party without coming to fetch me?" she asked in irritation.

"Coddie, you said you were tired, and I assumed you did not want anymore excitement for the night, so I didn’t…"

Coddie Anna’s expression was so fierce that Rose immediately ceased talking, and waited to hear what her daughter had to say about the situation. "That bohemian is making a move on you, and you’re giving in to it, aren’t you, Mother?" Coddie Anna sneered.

"Coddie Anna!" Rose gasped in horror. "That was a horrible thing to say! Mr. Dawson is a very nice man…"

"Very nice indeed…I don’t understand you, Mother. Not at all. I don’t understand how you can just throw Father’s memory away and take the first low account fool that comes along…at least with Cal you did not have a choice in the matter…I know you tried to get out of it, but I know Grandmother…"

Rose could not believe how ridiculous her daughter was acting. A thirteen-year-old girl should not speak in such a manner. "Coddie Anna, I would think you of all people would be a bit more understanding. I am not throwing your father’s memory away…I am moving on, like any normal widow would try to do. Nothing romantic is occurring between myself and Jack…not that I am familiar with, anyway…and I do not appreciate how you treated him tonight at supper…you were very rude and inconsiderate…"

"Inconsiderate? Why should I make accommodations for him, Mother?" Coddie Anna asked loudly. She did not want Cal to come in, asking what the trouble was, but she had a difficult time keeping her temper with her mother at certain points. Rose shook her head sorrowfully. She knew Coddie Anna was still hurting over her father’s death, even though it had happened over two years ago. The two had been very close, and the accident had devastated Coddie--making her deathly afraid of horses from that moment on. It had been a painful experience for Rose, as well, yet she knew Andrew would want her to move on, even if it meant finding someone else. Unfortunately, money was a big concern to Ruth DeWitt Bukater, whose own husband had left them in terrible debt after he died. So when they had come across the Hockley family, Cal had been the most obvious--to Ruth--choice for her daughter to marry. Rose had begged and pleaded to get out of the situation, but to no avail. They were on their way to Philadelphia for the wedding, and the closer the Titanic got to New York, the more angry and upset Rose felt.

"Listen, Coddie Anna…sit down, please."

Reluctantly, the child sat, her thin legs hanging over the side of the bed. "Let me explain a few things. The only reason Mr. Dawson came to dinner in the first place was because it was his reward for having saved my life…"

Coddie Anna raised her eyes. Rose had not told her daughter of her suicide attempt…she had not thought it necessary to worry her with it. Silence passed between them, making it very uncomfortable. "How? Why? What happened?" Coddie Anna asked, horrified. Her mother had not mentioned that anything out of the ordinary had occurred.

"I did not want to tell you about this, honey, but I did not want to worry you…" Rose took a deep breath. "I tried to throw myself off of the Titanic…"

All of the blood drained from Coddie Anna’s face. "You…you tried to kill yourself…but…but why would you do that? What was so terrible?"

Rose sighed. "It was everything…well, not you, of course, but just the entire situation with Cal and Mother…I was dreading reaching Philadelphia, where I would become his against my will…I was dreading putting you in the middle of it all…I wanted to run, to run away…but even the Titanic wasn’t big enough…and before I knew it, I was over the rail…" She cleared her throat. "If Jack hadn’t come along and convinced me to climb back over, I might not be here right now with you…" Tears were now slowly starting to fall down Rose’s cheeks, and Coddie Anna immediately felt guilty for having insulted him. "What you don’t know is that he’s a widower as well…his wife died right after their daughter was born…he’s experienced the same pain as we have…"

Coddie Anna felt her heart sink even lower. "Oh," she said quietly.

Rose gave her a pleading look. "Will you please try your best to accept him for who he is? If something does happen between us, I don’t…"

"Yes, Mother. I’ll be nice to him, if that’s what you mean…" Coddie Anna sighed.

"Good. I knew you’d understand. Now it’s time to go back to sleep, before it gets too late."

Coddie Anna embraced her mother in a warm hug before sliding back beneath the covers, listening to the quiet humming of the ship’s engine. The last thing she saw before her eyes closed again was her mother gazing into the large vanity mirror as she prepared to get into her nightgown.

*****

Anastasia couldn’t sleep. She lay on her back in her bed, gazing up at the plain white ceiling, which was literally five inches from her nose, and gave a great sigh. Her adrenaline was still rushing through her from the party, and she desperately wanted to run around on the deck to try and relieve all of her excess energy. s she lay, she wondered what her family was doing now…most likely they were all sleeping. Well, except maybe for Olga, who liked to stay up late with a candle lit and read in the great library. She usually read books then that her mother wouldn’t allow her to read. It was probably odd around the palace without her causing all of the mischief…she wondered if they actually enjoyed the quietness. Oh, probably not, Anastasia thought to herself with a grin. I’m sure it’s quite dull…

She turned over on her stomach and gazed down at Jack, who was sleeping soundly with his back to her, and she wondered what it would be like to have a normal life. Well, not that you could call Jack’s life normal…after all, not many peasants got the opportunity to move in with the imperial family. At least he did not have to worry about controlling his country, making sure the people got what they wanted. Or at least what he thought they wanted. Anastasia wondered how the American government was run, especially since they did not have a king and queen. Mac had attempted to explain a little of what she knew, but the information went in one ear and out the other.

The door opened suddenly, causing Anastasia to sit up quickly, nearly whacking the top of her head on the ceiling. She’d completely forgotten that they had left Fabrizio at the party. Not on purpose, of course, as he’d been with someone. Anastasia watched him tiptoe in and close the door behind him.

"Did you have a good time?"

By a stretch of pure luck, Fabrizio didn’t cry out, but he leapt nearly three feet into the air and whirled around, wondering who had spoken. When he saw Anastasia looking at him, he let out a sigh of relief. Jack let out a few harsh coughs, causing both of them to look at him with a bit of concern. "It was nice, yes," Fabrizio replied in a whisper.

Anastasia grinned before settling back down on her mattress again, adjusting her body so that she was more comfortable. "Good," she replied in a soft voice, closing her eyes. Before she knew it, her mind left the Titanic completely, slipping slowly into a realm of dreaming.

What Anastasia didn’t realize was that Mac was still awake. She lay with her face to the wall, her eyes wide open. Odd dreams prevented her from falling asleep. Dreams of her mother, which had plagued her during the three years at the palace. She refused to tell her father about them for fear of upsetting him again. In the dreams, her mother was always in a beautiful, jungle-like garden, picking bouquets of beautiful, different-colored flowers.

She was always alone, and Mac could see her features plain as day. Dark skin, thick auburn hair, bright green eyes. She was tall and slender, and moved swiftly, her gown of white lace and silk flowing behind her. "In the garden! I’m in the garden!" Mac often heard her voice, echoing in a sweet, melodic tone that rang in her ears. It was odd, though, that she would be able to visualize her mother, especially since she had never met her.

Mac lay on her back now, staring up at the bottom of Anastasia’s bunk, before turning over on her stomach. Mac reached under her pillow and pulled out a silver locket in the shape of a tiny heart that had belonged to her mother. Her father had given it to her on her sixth birthday. Inside of the locket was a picture of Mac’s parents when they had just gotten married on one side and a tiny prayer on the other. Jack had been very tearful presenting Mac with the gift, and she had just sat and hugged him for what seemed like forever while he just cried. This had been during their first year at the palace. Mac wore the locket most of the time, only taking it off before she went to bed at night. It was an item she treasured more than anything else--her mother’s picture being the first.

Mac at last slid out of bed and went over to her father, gently placing a hand on his shoulder. He looked so peaceful while asleep. She knew he had a bit of difficulty with his subconscious during the day. Once, she overheard him telling Alexandra that he thought he was losing his mind.

Jack stirred when he felt someone stroking his hair, and he turned over.

"Mac?" he croaked. "Sweetheart, are you all right?"

Mac nodded. "Just couldn’t sleep, Papa." She sat down on his bed, and he sat up, pulling his daughter into a tight hug.

"I was having a bit of difficulty as well. Would you like to go for a walk, just you and me?" Jack asked, pulling Mac’s hair behind her ear and kissing her cheek. Mac stared at him.

"But Papa, isn’t it late?" she asked curiously.

Jack smiled at her softly. "The two of us need to talk, I think, honey. Ana will be fine. Fabrizio is here…" He motioned towards the bunk above him, where the Italian man lay sound asleep. Mac hugged her father tightly.

"I would like that."

"Good. Get a pair of pants on and a coat, and we’ll go." When Mac hurried over to her suitcase, Jack slid out of bed, yawning and stretching. He had no idea what time of the night it was, but he knew that he and Mac had to just spend some time alone together. They had not done that in a long time--sat down and had a heart to heart. At least not since he had told her about her mother’s death for the first time. That had been a very difficult discussion, and ended in quite a few tears from both of them.

Once both of them dressed decently enough, they made their way out of the cabin. Mac could hear their footsteps echoing a little along the walls as they made their way to the deck. When they climbed the stairs to get outside, Mac gasped as she felt the cold air touch her skin, and she clutched her father’s arm for warmth.

They walked towards the recreation area, which was luckily completely empty, and took a seat. Jack allowed Mac to snuggle against him, and he wrapped his arms around her, closing his eyes. "You remind me so much of your mother," he whispered, stroking her hair gently with his fingertips. "Everything about you. Sometimes it’s difficult to see you." He cleared his throat. Mac felt her throat start to choke up with tears.

"I know, Papa. I hate seeing you so sad…" She looked up into his eyes. "You loved Mama very much…"

Jack nodded. "Very, very much. Now, honey, I know you want to tell me something. You have not been sleeping well." He kissed her forehead.

"How?" Mac asked.

"A father has to have sharp eyes, sweetheart. What has been bothering you?"

Mac paused, hesitating. She’d been dreading telling him about the dreams, but she did not want to lie to him. "I’ve been dreaming about Mama a lot lately," she whispered.

Jack frowned. "Have you?"

Mac nodded. "She’s always in a large garden, picking flowers in a white gown. Did you have a garden?"

Jack chuckled. "Well, your mother loved my parent’s garden that they had built on the back of our house. It was not very big, but they kept flowers, herbs, and vegetables in it, as we were not very rich. Your mother loved to just go out into the garden on a warm spring day and pick flowers, which she often brought inside to put on the table." He cleared his throat. "Very odd how you have been experiencing that particular dream…" He sighed. "Mac, I want to tell you something. I know that sometimes you feel guilty for your mother’s death, but you must understand that it was not your fault. It was your mother’s time, sweetheart."

Mac felt her shoulders start to shake as tears began to at last pour down her cheeks. "But she died after I was born, Papa. If I wasn’t, perhaps…perhaps she would still be alive."

Jack pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and handed it to Mac. "Your mother had a very hard pregnancy, yes. She was very ill. The doctor was afraid that you would be born ill as well, and I thank God every day that it did not happen that way. I do not know what I would have done if I had lost both of you."

Mac gasped. "The doctor thought I might die, too?" Her father had never told her about that! Jack nodded. "But why didn’t you tell me?"

"There was no need to tell you, honey. You were perfectly fine. I was thankful for that."

Mac blinked. "Daddy, have you been dreaming, too?"

Jack smiled. "I always dream of your mother, always. I see her face everywhere during the day, and when I was with Rose the other night, I could almost see a bit of Alyiah in her. Sometimes I feel I must be going crazy."

Mac touched his face gently with her hand. "You are not going crazy, Papa."

Jack gazed up at the dark, star-filled sky, and down again, rubbing his face with his hand. He knew he could never forget Alyiah, no matter how hard he tried. Mac glanced up at him, her face filled with concern. After a few moments, Mac snuggled against his jacket, wrapping her arms around him. Jack gently kissed the top of her head and wrapped his coat around her. "I love you," he whispered. "I never want you to forget that, all right?" He stroked her tear-stained cheek with his hand.

Mac nodded. "I love you, too."

"If something is bothering you, sweetheart, never hesitate to talk to me about it, all right?" Jack asked.

"Like with the dream?"

He nodded. "If it’s making you have trouble falling asleep."

Mac smiled. "Okay. I promise." She reached beneath her shirt and pulled up the locket. "Remember this?"

Jack stared at her. "How could I not?" He chuckled. "Your mother said that if we ever had a child, that she’d wanted to pass it down to them."

"I’ll take good care of it," Mac promised.

"I know you will. You’ve taken very good care of it since I gave it to you." He lifted Mac into his arms and stood up.

"Papa? You ought to stay in bed most of tomorrow. You don’t look well," Mac told him as they began to make their way down the deck. It was getting too cold to be outside for very long. Jack frowned.

"I probably should, honey." He stood, grimacing a little once Mac hopped off of his lap. Then he lifted her into one arm, and placed another kiss on her cheek, brushing a few loose strands of hair away from her face.

"Are you going to sleep tomorrow or are you going to see Rose?" Mac asked curiously, as they headed indoors. It felt so wonderful to feel so warm and cozy again.

Jack was quiet for a moment as they descended a flight of stairs. "Well, we’ll see how I feel tomorrow morning."

Mac leaned against his shoulder, sleep at last catching up with her. Jack smiled softly as he pushed the door open to their cabin, being as careful as possible not to wake her. Anastasia and Fabrizio were snoring away in their bunks and did not hear them come in. Jack pulled the blankets down on Mac’s bed, and, after helping her remove her coat, slid her gently beneath them. "Good night, honey."

Mac smiled, turning over and burying her body against her mattress. "G’night, Papa…"

Chapter Fifteen
Stories