THERE'S NO PLACE LIKE HEAVEN
Chapter Sixteen
Jack had got to New York with no problems at
all. He reached the gallery and there was no traffic. Everything seemed
perfect.
Jason was not there. The gallery was burned.
He treaded inside, ripping the police tape down. He watched his step as he went
on in. Everything was gone. He was moving the black ash when he came upon one
of his drawings. It was framed. The glass had broken, but that was all. It had
survived the fire. Luckily, Jack had fire insurance. The money he would get
from that he would use it for something, like a café, perhaps called the
Chippewa Falls Dawsons Café. Maybe, he thought.
*****
Rosemary was heading down the New York
streets. Her life had led her here after her brother Fabrizio told her not to
marry her fiancé. She walked and walked. She didn’t know where she was going,
until finally she realized she was lost. She remembered that same building, the
one that was burned down. She decided to take a rest, so she sat down on the
sidewalk. She looked up at the sky and said, out loud, "If only God could
answer my prayers and get me out of here." Just then, Jack came out of the
burned building. She glanced back down at the street, and there, standing
before her, was her true love, Jack Dawson. She looked up at the sky, and said,
"Thanks."
When their eyes met, neither could believe
that they were standing there looking at one another.
"Rosemary?"
"Jack?"
She ran to hug him. Then, she kissed him.
"Oh, Jack. I’ve missed you so
much."
"Me, too," Jack exclaimed.
"So, where did you go after Italy?"
"France, and then I came back home and
got married, although getting home was the hardest part. I’ll explain later.
What about you?"
"After you left, I was so sad, and I was
about to get married to a guy I didn’t love. My brother Fabrizio said that if I
didn’t love him, then I should go to the states and find my true love, and that
was you."
"Oh, Rosemary. I didn’t know."
"That’s okay. So, who’s your wife?"
she lied.
"Rose Elizabeth Dawson."
"Well, at least you remembered Rose
after me."
"To tell you the truth, Rosemary, I
didn’t even think about it until lately."
"So, why are you here? Don’t you live in
Chippewa Falls?"
"Yeah, but my gallery burned down."
"Oh, I’m so sorry."
"It’s okay. At least I still have
this." He showed her the drawing he had found in the burned building.
"Well, well, well. Who’s this,
Jack?"
"My wife."
"Oh. She’s very beautiful."
"She is, isn’t she?"
"Well, I gotta go to my hotel. She’s
never going to believe this. My children--I wonder if they’re up?"
"You have children? Gosh, Jack, you work
fast."
"To tell you the truth, I didn’t even
know until we reached New York. It’s a long story."
"Hey, why don’t you come with me?"
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah. Come on."
"Okay."
Jack hailed for a cab. They got in.
"Driver, the Waldorf-Astoria,
please."
"Gosh, Jack, can you afford this?"
"Yep. I’m rich, Rosemary."
They reached the hotel and went inside to the
lobby.
They were at the hotel desk.
"Hello, Mr. Dawson. What can I do for
you?"
"I need a room."
"The usual?"
"Yeah."
"Okay. It will be charged to your
tab."
"That’s fine."
Jack and Rosemary got into the elevator and
stopped at the sixth floor. They walked down the corridor until they reached
Room 60. He chose it because that was his lucky number on Titanic.
"Come on. Have a seat. I’m going to use
the phone. Watch TV or something. Are you hungry?"
"I’m fine, Jack. Order my usual."
"All right. Be back in a few
seconds."
"Okay."
Jack went to the other bedroom and picked up
the receiver. He punched in the numbers on the telephone and it started to
ring.
"Rose?"
"Hi, honey. What’s going on?"
"You’re not going to believe this, but
you know the drawing I drew of you on the Titanic?"
"Yeah."
"Well, it didn’t burn."
"What? Gosh, Jack, that’s a
miracle."
In the background, Rose heard a voice.
"Jack, can you get me a lemonade instead of a Coke?"
"Sure."
"Thanks."
"Who’s that, Jack?"
"I met my long lost friend from Italy.
Rosemary is the one legged prostitute."
"Oh. What’s she doing there?"
"She’s staying here because she doesn’t
have anywhere else to go."
"Oh, okay. I miss you, honey. This
evening I’m going to the DeWitt Bukater cottage also. Guess what? I heard my
mother talking to Robert, and I found out Cal was not my fiancé. He was my
brother. Why would she do that to me, Jack?"
"I guess she wanted you two to know each
other, and the only way she could probably convince him was to marry you."
"What are you saying, Jack? That I’m
ugly?"
"No. I’m just saying maybe...oh...well,
I don’t know what I’m saying, but don’t go and see him without me. I don’t want
him to hurt you, or worse, try to shoot you."
"Now why would he shoot his
sister?"
"I don’t know. The Hockley’s are mad,
insane. You know what I’m trying to tell you."
"Yeah, I know."
"Well, I gotta go, love. I’ll call you
later."
"All right. Bye."
"Bye, love."
Jack hung up the phone and dialed the hotel
restaurant and ordered their favorite meal, spaghetti with rolls and lemonade.
"Hello. What would you like to
order?" asked a man.
"Spaghetti, two plates. Parmesan cheese,
rolls, and a jug of lemonade."
"Okay. It will be up in ten
minutes."
"All right."
They had a lot to talk about, and tonight
they would know each other’s secrets and dreams.