TITANIC ROSE
Chapter Nineteen

 

Rose stood on the small cliff overlooking the lake beneath her. It was beautiful today, April thirteenth. It was the day that made it exactly one year since her dinner with Jack. One year since the steerage dance. One year...one year...

Rose fought the thoughts out of her head, hoping to make everything clear again. She was married, God dammit, and she wanted all of her memories to leave forever. For good.

She rubbed her stomach, thinking of the child growing inside of her. "Your child was once here, Jack. Once. Once."

She felt a tear roll down her cheek. Tomorrow, it would be an entire year that she and Jack had spent that precious moment in the Renault. That moment where she conceived. And she hated thinking back then.

"Rose!" Myrtle called from inside the house. "Come look!"

Rose ran to Myrtle's side. Indeed, Myrtle was actually five months with child, unlike Rose. And the baby was kicking. Thomas had his hand placed over the womb.

"Someday, we'll be doing this, Rose. In a few more months." Thomas continued to smile.

Myrtle looked absolutely stunning this day. Her blonde hair was pulled back in a gorgeous style, and she wore a beautiful white flowing dress. On the couch, she looked like a large buoy, hovering above the couch.

"Myrtle, you look so lovely. You have that motherly glow already," Rose stated, admiring Myrtle's newly rotund figure.

"Corsets are beginning to be a pain," Myrtle said when Thomas left. "Really, I barely fit into them now. It's horrible. I get fatter by the minute."

"I can hardly wait," Rose said sarcastically. "You didn't really begin to show until the beginning of the month. And you had been so ill, as well."

"Yes, well, I heard about your little scare last week. I'm glad everything is fine with your baby."

"Thank God, and knock on wood." Rose tapped the table next to them.

"Our children are going to be perfect for each other," Myrtle said dreamily. "I'll have a pretty little girl, who will look wonderfully like me, and you'll have a strapping young boy that looks just like Thomas. Let's play matchmaker before the young lovers are even born!"

They giggled at the thought. "We are like sisters. Why not be actually related?" Rose told Myrtle.

"We need to come up with names. If I have a girl, I'm naming her Emily Elaine. If I have a boy, his name will be Robert. How about you?"

"I guess I haven't thought of it yet." Rose frowned at her incompetence. "I'm surprised at myself, and a bit ashamed. I guess I've always liked the name Catherine. But for a boy--Andrew. That was my father's name. It sounds right. Doesn't it?"

"Andrew Calvert." Myrtle sighed. "Dreamy. I love the name Emily Elaine Sinclair. It's a much better name than my parents gave me."

"Your name is beautiful," Rose said. "I mean, I never exactly liked my name, either."

"But your name is so pretty." Myrtle sighed again. "I would never curse my child with some wretched name. Like Helga or something."

"Brunhilda." Rose laughed. Myrtle laughed along. "You know what is a pretty name, though, Myrtle? Anneliese. My best friend growing up was named Anneliese and I've always loved it."

"My best friend was named Ainsley. I like that name, too. Oh, now you're getting me all confused with what to name my child!"

They laughed again, and Rose's excitement over the baby began to grow.

*****

April fourteenth. The day haunted Rose all over again. All day it rained, and mist filled the air. It was hard to breathe, and not a day you would want to go outside.

"Thomas, do you remember what happened a year ago this day?"

"Titanic. Says so in the papers."

"Yes. Tragic. A whole year, Thomas, and it seems only like yesterday."

Thomas pulled her onto the couch next to him, placing her in the very spot Myrtle was the day before. "Look at where your life is now."

"I wouldn't exchange it for anything in the world," Rose admitted. "I love you, I love our baby, and I love the Sinclairs. I love all of you."

"So why reminisce about horrible things?"

"I don't know. They aren't like pencils where you can erase your mistakes or things that go terribly wrong. I wish I could, but I can't."

"Rose, look at me. I am here for you. Just don't go completely insane about the entire ordeal. Please."

Rose laughed. "I promise to keep my sanity if it means staying locked in our room for the next year."

"Well, I wouldn't mind that as long as I was with you." Thomas squeezed her hand.

"Maybe I should go insane just for your benefit." Rose kissed him.

"In that case, go right ahead."

*****

The clock struck two o'clock. Exactly one year since the ship went down. Since Jack died. Since Rose was rescued in a drunken-like daze. Since she met John.

That entire story sent a shiver down her spine. A man had loved her and died. Another man had loved her and killed himself. Her past love-life didn't look promising for what she had with Thomas.

Rose sat in the living room by herself, Thomas having gone to bed hours ago. "Jack, wherever you are, I miss you. I miss my dreams about you. I miss your voice, your face, your soft touch..."

A tear rolled down her cheek as she watched the clock. So many people had died. All those lives lost for the ocean's taking. Where were they now?

"Why should I live while all of you died?" Rose asked herself. "There were many more of you who deserved life more than I ever will. Cora!"

She burst into tears and buried her face in her hands. A poor little girl had lost her short life while Rose had taken her place on this earth. And for that, Rose could never forgive herself.

But then there was Thomas. Without her life, she wouldn't have him, her child, or Myrtle. She wouldn't be happy, although she would be with Jack. And this was what he wanted for her.

Yes, this was what he wanted, and Rose had to accept it. Sometimes, she wished she had never kept her promise to him. Other times, she was thankful he gave her the strong will to survive that cold night. But now, she didn't know what to think. It had been one year.

Exactly one year...

Chapter Twenty
Stories