THE HEART GOES ON
Chapter Nine
Mid-October, 1912
Chippewa Falls, Wisconsin
Jack
We woke to a bright autumn
morning. Aunty Janette called us down for a wonderful, hot, substantial
breakfast. She was more conciliatory than the night before and was all smiles.
Uncle William said hello briefly, a tall, stooping, six foot man with thin, graying
hair, mellow brown eyes, and a cheery smile. He was already off to work on the
farm. He looked so much older, but was very friendly to us.
Rose did not say much. She still
looked sleepy. She ate her food in silence. After the table was cleared, Aunty
sat down with us.
"I’d like to hear about what
happened on the Titanic, if you don’t mind, Jacky. It fair shook me up when I
heard you were on it."
Rose and I exchanged looks. We
had decided to hold back the information about Cal and his underhandedness. I
briefly ran through a diluted version of me meeting Rose, us becoming attached,
the ship sinking, us getting separated, and Molly bringing us together again.
Aunty looked amazed. "You
were both very lucky," she said. She looked at Rose. "You are very
quiet. Where is your mother these days, dearest? Is she happy for you?"
Rose spoke softly and quietly
about her privileged upbringing, her family becoming penniless, her mother’s
hunt for a rich husband, and how they had gone on a European tour. She omitted
her engagement to Cal as the reason that they were traveling home on the ship.
"So, where is Ruth
now?" Aunty asked.
"Ruth is in our Santa Monica
house for now," Rose replied. "She is heavily involved in charity
work for unfortunate women. Molly pays her a small allowance and lets her stay
in the house in return for her help. Mother has discovered a compassionate side
after the Titanic," Rose finished, her voice wavering. Aunty patted her
hand.
"I am sorry that your mother
hasn’t been motherly to you, Rose. We are all one big family here. Now, take
Jack’s parents." Aunty glanced at me. I smiled at her and nodded to go on.
"Jack’s parents were fantastic with Jack. They were very much devoted to
him and each other. And now Jacky is the image of his pa, the same build, blond
hair, and blue eyes, but you have your mother’s quality for fitting in anywhere
and her graciousness. She was a special lady."
She looked serious for a moment,
words lying unspoken in the air. Then, rising, she brought a photo album to the
table and lay it down.
"Hope Dawson was very
beautiful," Aunty said quietly. "Fine, dark blonde hair, expressive
eyes, very slender, caring, and mild-mannered. That fire was so awful. At least
they went together. So sad for Jacky, though."
"Are you trying to explain
something, Aunty Janette?" I inquired. Aunty just nodded.
"Looking at you two
lovebirds reminds me of your pa and ma after their marriage. They were similar
to you two in more ways than you think."
Rose and I looked at each other.
She took my hand. Aunty was being cryptic and confusing.
She flipped the album open.
Rose
When the album was opened, I saw
pictures of James and Hope. Aunty was right. Jack was the image of James. Hope
was as pretty as she said, too. She had a luminous quality in her sensitive
face. She did not look like a typical, rough-set farmer’s wife. There were some
photos of a baby Jack. I laughed. Jack squirmed.
"Gorgeous, he was,"
Aunty agreed.
Then, Aunty turned to the back of
the album, brought out a single picture, and placed it on the table.
It was of two young girls,
obviously sisters of about thirteen and ten, sitting with arms entwined and
smiling at the camera. They had the same sweet smiles, light hair in ringlets,
and dark eyes. Jack frowned. I looked more closely. The clothes the girls were
wearing gave it away, along with the ornate garden in the shot behind them.
"Aunty?" Jack echoed.
"Look at their hair and the
cut of their clothes," Aunty said urgently. "These are two high
society young ladies."
"I can see that," Jack
said. "But this is my mother?" There was confusion on his face.
Aunty turned wistful. "Yes,
Jack, that is your mother and her older sister. What your mother and father
never told you was that Hope came from a rich, prominent family and that she
and James defied her family to be together and they cut her off."
Jack and I looked at each other
in stunned silence.
"Well, I never!" I spat
out.
"Talk about history
repeating itself," Jack quipped.
"Yes. She was a Tremaine of
Boston. That photo is of Hope and her older sister, Demelza. Hope adored her.
They were inseparable until the Tremaines married Demelza off young to a rich
but horrible monster."
"Poor Demelza," I said.
"I can feel sorry for her. What happened to her?" I looked at the
radiant Demelza, sold like I nearly had been to the highest bidder.
"After her marriage, her
husband cut off contact with the Tremaines. Hope only heard that she died young
and unhappy. She had one son, but the Hockleys closed rank and we never saw
him," Aunty filled in.
"What?" Jack and I
shouted in unison.
"Did you say Hockley?"
I whispered, ice flowing through me.
I felt as cold as I had in the
icy Atlantic.
Aunty was puzzled. "Yes,
Rose. Demelza Tremaine was married off to a Mr. Nathan Hockley of
Philadelphia," she said.
Jack
Rose turned pale and her eyes
glazed.
"Rose!" Aunty said, and
caught her as she swooned. Rose managed to pull herself together and sat back
upright, eyes wide with shock. "What is the matter, Rose? You are as pale
as a ghost!"
"Aunty, you had better sit
down," I said.
Aunty sat down in a kitchen
chair.
"What is it, Jack?" she
asked. "Why is Rose so upset?" Aunty was getting upset herself.
"Rose, I am going to have to
tell her." Rose nodded, and tears welled in her eyes. I went around to her
and put my arms around her shoulders. "The Hockleys are well acquainted
with Rose, Aunty, and with me. To make it short, Demelza’s son and I are
cousins."
"I don’t understand,"
Aunty replied.
"Demelza Tremaine Hockley’s
lost son is named Caledon Hockley and is a right arrogant son of a gun. We are
cousins, as Demelza and my mother were sisters. And, well, Caledon Hockley was
once engaged to Rose. It’s very complicated."
"You’d better tell me,"
Aunty said, confused, too. "This all sounds strange." Rose nodded her
confirmation.
"Too right, it’s
strange," I said. "It’s strange to me, too, but I’ll start from when
I first saw Rose."
I slowly told Aunty everything
about Cal, his obsession for Rose, his capturing her off the Carpathia, and all
the details to date. Tears fell down Rose’s cheeks as I recounted the story.
Aunty hissed, "I can’t
believe it. A son of sweet Demelza ending up to be like that."
Rose suddenly laughed through her
tears. "Jack," she said. "You do realize you can’t possibly be a
gutter rat anymore--maybe a half-gutter rat. You have upper class blood. You
and Cal are related!"
"Yep. Funny old world, isn’t
it? I am sure he’d be thrilled to know I was his cousin, Jack, descended from
the mighty Tremaines of Boston," I mocked.
Rose dried her eyes and we
laughed hard. Aunty went out and came back with a paper.
"I just remembered. Look at
this." She placed the paper open next to the photo.
Our laughter died as we read the
headline from the Eau Claire Gazette.
Hockley Bride Still Missing, the headline read.
A devastated Caledon Hockley II
was intensifying his efforts to find his missing seventeen-year-old fiancée,
Rose DeWitt Bukater. He has engaged private detectives to seek her out.
"She was on the Titanic and is in deep shock," Mr. Hockley told
reporters. "My father and I went her back so we can help her and be
married as planned. I offer a reward to anyone with information."
Rose burst into tears. "Oh,
no!" she sobbed. I hugged her.
Aunty read the article, too.
"You had a lucky escape,
from what you told me," Aunty said carefully. "This Caledon doesn’t
want to let you go. He sounds dangerous."
"Oh, he is!" Jack
snapped. "Even the fact of our legal marriage wouldn’t stop him. Rose is
just a prize for him."
"Demelza would have been
heartbroken. Hope loved her so much and spoke so highly of her," Aunty
mused sadly.
"I’ll keep Rose safe,"
I stated.
"Yes. We all will. Rose, my
dear, you are a Dawson and family, and that’s were you belong," Aunty told
her. "I’ll make us some more tea to get over this shock," Aunty
soothed, and went to make some.
"He’ll never get you
back," I whispered to Rose. "I’ll never let you go. You are mine
forever, and our child, too."