TITANIC ROSE
Chapter Thirty-Three

January 1915
Los Angeles, California

Myrtle Sinclair walked slowly from the train station to a nearby hotel, a sleeping Emily Elaine in one arm and her suitcase in the other. She looked around as she walked, marveling at how green and warm Los Angeles was, even in the January rain.

Emily stirred and whimpered as her mother shifted her in order to open the hotel door. Myrtle murmured soothingly to the baby as she slipped inside, her suitcase banging against the doorframe. She was tired, and wanted nothing more than to rest for a little while, but she had to find a place for them to stay first, preferably for as little as possible. She didn’t have much money left.

Luck was with her. The rates at the shabby little hotel were low, and she could afford to stay there for about a week before her money ran out. Briefly, she wondered what she would do after that, but then pushed the thought away. She would worry about that when the time came.

Climbing the stairs, she found her room and set her suitcase down, laying her sleepy infant on the bed as she did so. After taking care of the baby, she lay down next to her. She would rest for a little while, but then she had to try to find the only people that she knew in Los Angeles—the Calverts.

*****

Myrtle awoke a couple of hours later, feeling refreshed. Emily still lay beside her, wide awake. The baby’s blonde curls sprang wildly around her head as she sat up and looked at her mother, giving her a broad smile that showed off her baby teeth before popping a thumb into her mouth.

Myrtle sat up beside her daughter, then stood, scooping her up and carrying her into the bathroom to change her diaper. When she was done, she locked the door to her room and headed down the stairs, the baby balanced on her hip.

"Is there a telephone directory available?" she asked the clerk, ignoring the way he looked her over, half-assessingly, half-condemningly, as though she were doing something wrong by staying in a hotel without her husband. She had her reasons for being there, but they were none of his business.

"Yes, ma’am," he finally answered, bringing a thick book from a shelf behind the counter. He eyed her as he handed her the book, wondering just who she was trying to find.

Myrtle ignored him as she sat down in a chair, Emily in her lap, and opened the book. Thumbing through it, she looked for both the addresses of Rose’s movie studio and of the Calverts.

When she found the addresses, she wrote them down, wondering as she did so if Rose would even be willing to see her. She felt a flush of shame inside as she thought of how she had treated the Calverts back in Cedar Rapids, but then reminded herself that she had been one of the first to come to their defense when the truth had come out. Surely that would count for something.

*****

Myrtle’s eyes widened as she looked at the shining outer walls of the Eagle Movie Studios, where Rose worked. It was even more glamorous looking in person than in the newspaper. A giant eagle statue appeared ready to swoop down on the wide-eyed tourists below, and the freshly painted walls and gates shown in the winter sunlight. Blooming flowers and green potted plants grew on either side of the gates. It was like nothing she had ever seen in all her years in Cedar Rapids.

Approaching the gate, she waited impatiently as the guard argued with a tall blonde woman. Myrtle stared, fascinated, as the woman tried to convince him to let her in. No one from Cedar Rapids dressed the way this woman did, except for a young woman on the outskirts of town, and everyone knew what she was. Were things so different in Hollywood?

The guard was growing angrier by the moment. "Look, Miss Platt," he told her, taking her by the shoulder and giving her a not-so-gentle push toward the street. "You are not a part of any picture being made here, and I have specific orders not to let you in. I suggest you go somewhere else."

The blonde woman’s eyes narrowed as she glared at him. "Well! I guess I know where I’m not wanted!" she huffed, turning on her heel and flouncing away.

Myrtle jumped aside as the woman nearly ran into her, then approached the guard, hoping that he would be more receptive to her than he had been to Miss Platt.

"Excuse me, sir," she began. "My name is Myrtle Sinclair, and I’m looking for a friend of mine. Perhaps you know her. Her name is Rose Calvert, and she’s an actress with this studio—"

Her heart sank as he sighed in irritation. "What is it with you tourists? The actors here have a job to do, and it doesn’t include signing autographs for anyone who just waltzes in off the street."

"But, sir—"

"Yes, I know. She’s a friend of yours. Half the tourists who come here have ‘friends’ here. If I let in everyone who had a ‘friend’ here, we’d have a riot. If you want to communicate with Mrs. Calvert, write her a letter. See if she’ll invite you to tour the studio."

"But I came all the way from Cedar Rapids, Iowa—"

"Well, I’m afraid it’s a wasted trip, then. You can’t get in without a pass or an invitation. If Mrs. Calvert is really a friend of yours, she’ll see to it that one is issued to you."

"But—"

The guard turned away, dismissing her. Myrtle’s shoulders slumped. She would have preferred to see Rose at work, where she wouldn’t be an intruder in her home, but it seemed that visiting her at home was the only option left to her. Rose had never answered her letter.

She turned, then jumped, startled, as Miss Platt walked up to her, almost running into her a second time.

"Don’t listen to him," the tall blonde told her, sneering at the guard. "Rose Calvert isn’t even there today. She’s at home, taking more and more time off because she’s in the family way."

"Um…do you know Rose?" Myrtle asked, trying not to be overwhelmed.

"Of course I do. Rose and I are old friends. We’ve been acting together since she got her first role. I was the one who helped her get it."

"Oh?" Myrtle had seen Save The Last Dance, and this woman hadn’t been in it that she remembered.

"Yes. Why, I met Rose the first day she came here. Perhaps she’s mentioned me. My name is Sylvia Platt."

*****

Myrtle sat in the taxi beside Sylvia, trying to stay as far away from her as possible. The tall, blonde woman was more than a little overwhelming, and something about her just didn’t seem quite right. For a friend of Rose’s, she certainly hadn’t been welcome at the studio, and she had chattered on and on, telling stories that even Myrtle, with her love for gossip, could tell weren’t true.

Still, she had given the driver the address that Myrtle had copied from the telephone directory, so perhaps she did know Rose. Myrtle couldn’t tell. All she knew was that she needed to speak with Rose and try to make amends. She didn’t know what else she could do.

The taxi pulled up in front of a large, attractive house with a wide lawn and several winter-bare trees. Sylvia and Myrtle climbed out of the taxi, Myrtle holding Emily Elaine close. The driver looked at them expectantly, waiting for his fare.

Sylvia gave him a sheepish smile, then turned to Myrtle. "I’m afraid I forgot my money," she told her. "Perhaps you can pay him."

Myrtle’s heart sank. Taxi fare was expensive, and she didn’t have much money. If she paid the fare, it would mean one less day that she would be able to stay in the shabby little hotel—and she had nowhere else to go. But what could she do? The driver was glaring at Sylvia, obviously not willing to leave without being paid.

Sighing, Myrtle reached into her purse and counted out the exact amount, handing it to the man. He scowled at her, obviously disappointed that she hadn’t given him a tip. Without another glance at the women, he got back into his car and drove away, leaving them standing on the sidewalk.

Taking a deep breath, Myrtle followed Sylvia up the walkway to the front door. Sylvia tried to open it, but upon finding it locked, she banged on the door, calling for Rose to let her in.

Both Myrtle and Sylvia were surprised when Thomas answered the door. Ordinarily, he would have been at work at this time of day, but both Rose and Andrew had bad colds, and he had come home during his lunch break to see how they were.

He sighed when he saw Sylvia. "Sylvia, what are you doing here?" he asked, blocking her path. It wasn’t the first time that Sylvia had shown up, and neither he nor Rose were particularly fond of her.

"I came to see Rose, darling," she told him, striking a glamorous pose. Thomas just rolled his eyes, wondering if Sylvia would ever understand that she wasn’t wanted.

Sylvia scowled as he rolled his eyes. "I also brought a friend of Rose’s with me," she added, stepping aside and pushing Myrtle in front of her. Myrtle cringed, wishing that she had been able to talk to Rose alone without talking to Thomas, whose expression was looking stormier by the minute.

"Myrtle, what are you doing here?" he demanded, staring at her with unfriendly eyes.

"I-I came to see Rose," Myrtle began, but he cut her off.

"Rose!" he shouted, walking to the staircase and calling up. "Rose!"

A moment later, Rose appeared at the top of the stairs, a squalling Andrew in her arms. Tightening her robe around her swollen middle, she came slowly down the stairs.

"I just got him to sleep," she told Thomas irritably, her voice nasally from her cold.

"You have some visitors," he told her, gesturing to the door.

Rose looked even more irritable when she saw Sylvia. Then, her eyes widened and her face paled as she caught sight of Myrtle.

"What are you doing here?" Her voice was decidedly unfriendly.

"Rose…I-I came to see you…"

At that moment, Emily Elaine, upset by Andrew’s cries, started to wail herself, distracting her mother. Both women turned to comforting their offspring, while Sylvia looked at them, a superior smile on her face.

"This is why I don’t have children," she remarked, looking at the fussing babies smugly.

Thomas shook his head, mumbling something under his breath about no man wanting to put up with such a crazy woman long enough to give her a baby, and said to Rose, "I have to get back to work now. I’ll take Sylvia home on my way."

Rose patted Andrew’s back, looking at Thomas pleadingly. "Must you go?"

"I have to get back, love. I’m working on a major case. You know you can call me if you need me."

Rose took a deep breath, coughing at the exertion. Andrew stopped crying long enough to stare at his mother in fascination. "All right. I’ll be here when you get home. Bye, Thomas." She glared at Sylvia, who had settled down on the couch. "Good-bye, Sylvia." It was hard enough for her to deal with Myrtle’s sudden visit; she didn’t need Sylvia hanging around and listening to every word.

"Oh, now Rose, I thought we could visit for a while…"

"Rose is sick, Sylvia. I’ll take you home." Thomas politely but firmly took her arm and pulled her from the couch.

Sylvia’s eyes narrowed, but she held her head high, giving Rose a haughty look. "Of course. I wouldn’t want to catch—whatever it is you have. Who knows what it might do to my career?" She followed Thomas out the door.

"It would probably improve it," Rose mumbled waspishly as she closed the door behind the tall blonde woman. Looking at Myrtle, she blushed slightly, realizing that she had overheard her.

"I take it she isn’t really a friend of yours?" Myrtle sank down on the couch, setting Emily next to her and hoping that Rose wouldn’t order her to leave.

"She’s a first class nutcase," Rose replied. "Excuse me while I put Andrew back to bed. His cold is making him rather cranky."

A moment later, she returned, glancing at Emily Elaine, who was curled up asleep on the couch with her thumb in her mouth. Rose sat down in an easy chair across from the couch, still not happy at Myrtle’s presence.

"What are you doing here?" she demanded.

Myrtle looked down. "Rose, I…I wanted to apologize for what I did to you back in Cedar Rapids."

"It’s a bit late for apologies, don’t you think?"

"Rose…when I found out that the things your mother had said were lies, I was one of the first to defend you."

"Yes, before you had even read my diary. Mother told me all about it."

Myrtle blanched. "When…when did you see your mother? Or did she write you a letter?"

"She’s living in Los Angeles now. She works as a costume designer for Eagle Movie Studios."

"Oh…I see."

"No more lies, Myrtle, and no more gossip. It won’t work this time."

Myrtle was about to reply when there was another knock on the door. Rose got to her feet, waddling over to answer it.

"What do you want?" She stopped, seeing who it was. "Oh, I’m sorry, Mother. I didn’t know it was you."

"Thomas called and told me that you and Andrew were ill, so I decided to stop by and see…" She trailed off as she caught sight of Myrtle. "I see I’ve come at a bad time."

Myrtle stood slowly, making sure that Emily Elaine was secure on the couch. "Hello, Mrs. DeWitt Bukater."

Ruth ignored her. "Would you like me to come back later, after work?"

"If you could. As you can see, I have a…guest."

"Yes. I see." Ruth looked at Myrtle coldly. "Call me when she’s gone, Rose. I don’t wish to interrupt."

"Mother, it’s all right…"

"No, Rose. I have some good news, and I would prefer not to impart it to her. Heaven only knows what she’d do with it."

"All right, Mother. It shouldn’t be long."

"Call me when she’s gone, Rose. I will see you then." Ruth gave Myrtle a warning look and turned away, walking out the door without a backward glance.

"I-I see she’s still angry with me." Myrtle spoke quietly, rubbing her daughter’s back.

"After what you did to all of us, can you blame her?"

Myrtle looked down at the floor again. "Rose…I don’t know why I did what I did. I always liked you…"

"You liked me so much that you were willing to believe the most ridiculous, inflammatory gossip about me."

"I…Rose, I was wrong. I acknowledge that now."

"You acknowledged that when my journal was found. In fact, according to Mother, you turned against her even before you’d read any of my journal, relying entirely upon hearsay for what you thought."

"I-I’ve changed, Rose. I’m not like that now. At least, not as much. I didn’t believe half of what Miss Platt told me."

"That’s good, because she makes things up as she goes along." Her eyes narrowed. "What exactly did she tell you?"

"That she’s your best friend and a famous actress. That she got you your big break. That your mother is an actress now, and that she got that way by sleeping with every man in the studio as well as her son-in-law."

"What?" Rose’s eyes sparked, her expression livid. "That lying little gossip! She’s crazy. She’s nuttier than a fruitcake. Why she hasn’t been put away yet, I don’t know."

"If it makes you feel any better, I didn’t believe anything except that you are becoming a famous actress and that you’re in the family way. And both of those things are true."

"You are not to spread a word of what she said." Rose leaned over as far as she could, her eyes cold. "Or I will turn on you, and let you know what it’s like to have your life ruined."

Myrtle stared at her for a moment, tears beginning to well up in her eyes. Then she laughed bitterly.

"Rose, you’re too late to ruin my life," she told her, half-choking on a sob. "My life was ruined a long time ago, and I have no one to blame but myself."

Rose sat back, surprised at Myrtle’s outburst and sudden tears. "What do you mean?"

"My husband…my husband turned against me after he realized that I’d helped to spread all those lies about you. He always liked you and Thomas…and after he found out what I’d done, and that everything Ruth had said and I’d agreed with were lies, he turned on me. At first, it wasn’t so bad—he just didn’t talk to me much, and when he did it was almost always something bad. I dealt with it—after all, he is my husband. And even when he started taking his anger out on me—it wasn’t just what I did, you see. Life hasn’t been good for us…he lost his job at the mill, and took to drinking too much. But even when he would slap me, or shake me until my teeth ached, I put up with it. But when he started taking things out on Emily Elaine…that’s when I couldn’t take it anymore. I couldn’t let him hurt her. And now…now there’s another baby on the way…"

"But why did you come here? Why didn’t you go back to your parents or something?"

Myrtle wiped her eyes on her sleeve. "They wouldn’t take me back. They never approved of my marriage, you see. David isn’t…he isn’t of our faith, and they never could stand that. They said that what was happening was my fault, because I’d gone against what they’d told me to do. I didn’t know what to do…you’re the only one I know outside of Cedar Rapids…so I came here, hoping you could forgive me." She took the handkerchief that Rose offered her, blowing her nose. "I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have come."

Rose didn’t know what to say. She knew how it felt to be in a relationship with a man who took his anger out on her, and she knew what it was like to love a man that her mother didn’t approve of. But she didn’t trust Myrtle. She couldn’t…not after what had happened in Cedar Rapids.

"How do I even know that you’re telling me the truth?"

"Rose…I wouldn’t lie about something like this. I can’t go back to David. I love him so much…but I’m afraid of what he’ll do to me and the children. He’s not rational when he’s drunk."

"Myrtle…"

"I’m sorry, Rose. I shouldn’t have come. After what I did to you, I’m not surprised that you won’t forgive me." She wadded up the handkerchief and gave it back to Rose.

"Myrtle…where are you staying?"

"The Redwall Hotel. It’s by the train station…"

"I’ll speak to Thomas, and decide if I want to see you. But if there is any indication…any indication at all…that you’re going to do what you did before, you can forget about getting any help from us. You ruined our lives once before…we won’t allow it to happen again."

"I won’t, Rose. I promise, I won’t hurt you or your family again."

"Maybe you will. Maybe you won’t. I don’t trust you, and I may never do so again. You destroyed what we’d built in Cedar Rapids, and then you turned on my mother when it was convenient to do so. If I were David, I wouldn’t want you either. But that’s besides the point. Maybe we’ll help you, and maybe we won’t…but I have a lot more influence here than I had back in Cedar Rapids, and I can guarantee that I will make your life as miserable as you made ours if you cross us again. Is this is any way unclear?"

Myrtle nodded miserably, picking up Emily Elaine and holding her close. "I don’t blame you at all, Rose. If I were you, I would hate me, too." She walked to the door, then turned back, looking at Rose. "I’ll be at the hotel until Saturday. After that…I don’t know what I’ll do."

She opened the door and walked out, leaving Rose staring after her.

Rose quietly closed the door after her, sitting down and burying her face in her hands. She didn’t know what to do.

*****

Rose was gone for the rest of the afternoon, going to a doctor’s appointment and confirming that, in spite of her cold, her babies were fine and healthy. She returned home near sunset, driving the car that Thomas had surprised her with at Christmas. She had already learned how to drive his car, so the new vehicle allowed her to get around without getting a taxi or taking a train.

Thomas was already home when she returned. Giving her a hug, he took a fussy Andrew from her and took him upstairs while Rose called her mother.

Ruth picked up on the third ring. "Eagle Movie Studios Costume Department. Ruth speaking."

"Mother? It’s Rose."

"Oh, hello, Rose. Is Myrtle gone?"

"Yes. She left about half an hour after you did."

"What did she want?"

"She says that she’s sorry for what she did in Cedar Rapids."

"I’ll believe it when I see it."

"I don’t trust her, either, Mother…but I don’t think she’ll be going back to Cedar Rapids anytime soon. Her marriage to David has turned sour."

"That doesn’t surprise me. He was rather upset when he found out what she’d done."

"I wasn’t sure if she was telling the truth, but…she’s left him, Mother. She said that he’d lost his job at the mill and was drinking too much and taking things out on her and Emily Elaine."

"And you believe her?"

"Perhaps I’m being foolish, Mother—but for some reason, I do. There’s just something about the way she was acting that told me that she’s telling the truth. She was in tears."

"She may just be a very good actress, Rose."

"Yes, but…Mother, what should I do? If she’s telling the truth, I can’t leave her out in the cold. She has a young child and another on the way."

"She told you she’s expecting a second baby?"

"She’s telling the truth about that, Mother. I could see that her middle is starting to expand again."

"It’s up to you, Rose. If you want to take that risk of getting involved with her again, knowing what she is and what she’s capable of, that’s your choice. But I won’t help you."

"I understand, Mother. She turned on you, too. And I can’t say that I’d help her—I want to talk to Thomas before I make any decisions. He is a lawyer, after all; he may be able to do something that I can’t. But whatever happens, I won’t drag you into it."

"Thank you, Rose." Ruth paused a moment. "Rose…I don’t think I’ll be coming by tonight after all. I need to finish up some work here, and I don’t want to drop by late when you’re not feeling well. Perhaps I can stop by tomorrow."

"Yes. Please do. Mother…you said you had some good news. Do you want to save it until then, or do you want to tell me now?"

"Well…" Ruth hesitated, but Rose could tell from her mother’s tone of voice that she was just bursting with the news.

"What is it, Mother?"

"Harry has asked me to marry him, and I have accepted."

"He did?" Rose squealed in delight. "Oh, Mother, congratulations! As soon as I’m over this miserable cold, Thomas and I will take the two of you out to celebrate."

Ruth laughed. "Shouldn’t you ask Thomas about that first?"

"Oh, he’ll agree. Anyway, if he doesn’t, I’ll take the two of you out. I have money, too, you know." She stopped, thinking of something. "Do you love him, Mother?"

"Yes, Rose, I do. I love him more than I thought it was possible to love anyone other than your father. He’ll always have a place in my heart—but I’ve moved on with life."

"Mother, I’m so happy for you." Rose smiled as Thomas came into the room, giving him a quick kiss. "When is the wedding?"

"In June. That’s the traditional time to get married. And Rose…I’d be pleased if you’d be my matron of honor."

"Of course I will, Mother. This is so exciting! I hope the two of you have a long and happy life together."

"I hope so, too, Rose."

They said good-bye quickly after that, and Rose turned to Thomas, giving him a real kiss.

"What’s going on?" he asked. "Who’s getting married?"

"Mother is. She’s marrying her actor, Harry Phoenix. She’s asked me to be her matron of honor."

"With this big belly?" Thomas patted her stomach affectionately.

"The wedding isn’t until June, after the babies are born. I should have my figure back by then, or something close to it. Oh, and I told her we’d take her and Harry out to dinner to celebrate once I’m over this cold. I hope you don’t mind."

"That’s fine. Your mother has certainly changed since she came to Cedar Rapids. If I didn’t know better, I’d be sure it wasn’t the same person."

"Speaking of Cedar Rapids, Thomas…"

"I know. Myrtle was here. What did she want?"

"She needs our help." Rose could tell from looking at his face that he didn’t like the idea. "Thomas, just hear me out. I don’t trust her, either, and I really don’t like her, but if she truly needs our help, I can’t just leave her out in the cold. She has Emily Elaine to think of, and a new baby on the way."

"Then why isn’t she home in Cedar Rapids with David?"

"She’s left him." Rose quickly filled Thomas in on what Myrtle had told her. "For some reason, Thomas, I believe her. There’s just something about this that makes me believe that she’s telling the truth."

He sighed, not liking the idea of helping Myrtle. "Rose…I don’t know about this. After what she did to us…"

"Isn’t there something you could do if she tries to spread rumors again? Couldn’t you sue her for slander or something?"

"We would have to prove it, and in the meantime…"

"I already told her that if she spreads any lies and rumors about us I would ruin her, just as she ruined us. And if she did spread lies, and we sued her for slander, couldn’t we destroy her reputation, here and back in Cedar Rapids?"

"Rose…it never fails to amaze me how your mind works. You want to be friends with her again, but if it doesn’t work, you want to use blackmail and slander to destroy her."

"I don’t want to be her friend again, Thomas! I don’t trust her, and I don’t think I ever will. But I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if she wound up on the streets with her children, especially when I knew about it. I don’t like her, but I couldn’t let harm come to her children…and you know how harsh life on the streets can be. We’ve both been there."

"I know. But…I just don’t feel much compassion for her. She’s caused her own problems."

"But her children had nothing to do with that. Emily Elaine is just a baby, and the other one isn’t even born yet. They’re not to blame."

"But they aren’t our responsibility, either."

"No, but…I can’t say that it’s right to help her, after all that she did to us, but maybe we could talk to her, find out if there’s anything we might do that wouldn’t require us to be near her. I remember being on the streets, Thomas, and I feel badly for anyone who might wind up the same way—even if it is Myrtle."

Thomas sighed, running a hand through his hair. "All right, Rose. We’ll talk to her…but I don’t want to be close to her again, and I’d rather that we helped her leave than anything else."

"All right." Rose nodded her head. "Thomas, please try to understand…"

"I do understand, Rose. You have a soft heart, and compassion for those less fortunate. I remember how you tried to help Mattie…and I couldn’t stand her, either. I’ll see what can be done, Rose…but I won’t make any promises."

*****

Rose fell asleep soon after dinner, her cold making her more tired than usual. She and Thomas had avoided the topic of Myrtle after deciding to pay her a visit on Friday, and had talked around the issue, discussing other things. Rose had told him about her father, and about the financial scandal that had destroyed him and sent her on her way to the life she now lived. Thomas had been sympathetic—many members of his family felt the same way about money and status that Ruth once had, although they were middle class, and nowhere near so wealthy as the Bukaters had been.

Rose had sat in front of the fireplace with Thomas for a while, but her dropping eyes and head had soon led him to encourage her to go to bed. He had gone upstairs with her and tucked her in, promising to take care of Andrew if he awakened.

It wasn’t long before Rose was sound asleep. She tossed and turned fitfully for a while, her misery from her cold and the long, difficult day conspiring to make her dreams unpleasant. After a time, though, she quieted, falling into a deeper sleep.

*****

Rose looked around in surprise as she found herself on the beach beside the Santa Monica Pier. She could see the roller coaster and hear the laughter and shouts of the people on the pier, but the beach itself was quiet. She looked around, smiling when she saw Jack coming towards her.

"For someone who wasn’t supposed to see me again until the time was right, we sure meet a lot," she joked, running over to him and throwing her arms around him.

"Well, the original plan was for you and I to meet at the clock on Titanic when it was time for you to come to heaven permanently, but your life really keeps a guardian angel busy. I can’t say how long we’ll be able to keep meeting, but it will end one of these days."

"Not too soon, I hope."

"Rose, you’re getting stronger all the time. You may not realize it in your day-to-day life, but you’ll soon be able to live without me stepping in all the time."

"I’ll miss you, though."

"I’ll miss you, too. Remember, though, that it won’t be forever. When the time comes, you’ll meet me at the clock on Titanic."

"Will it be a long time?"

He hesitated. "Yes. You’re going to live a long time, just like I told you. You’re going to raise your babies, and watch them grow, and have plenty of grandchildren. You won’t come here to stay until you’re very old."

"And how long will it be…before you stop coming to see me?"

"I don’t know, Rose. I’ve already come far more times than I was supposed to. But I think it will be soon. I’m getting less and less information to give to you—which means that you’re more and more ready to face life without me."

"I love you, Jack. Whatever happens, I won’t forget you."

"I won’t forget you, either, and I’ll always be watching over you, until that moment when you meet me at the clock."

He sank down to the sand, pulling Rose with him. Putting an arm around her, he told her what he had come to say. "Rose…there’s some things I need to tell you."

"What?"

"First, about Myrtle…what she told you today was the truth. Her husband was abusing her and her daughter, and she did leave him. I can’t tell you if things will ever work out between them, but I do know that she is truly ashamed for what she did to you and your family, and for what she did to your mother. I don’t know if it has changed her as it changed your mother, but I do know what she feels now. I’m glad that you want to help her; it shows how much compassion you have. You’re a good person, Rose, and the world would be a better place with more people like you.

"I also have some things to tell you about the babies you’re carrying. They’re going to be beautiful, Rose. The boy is going to be the spitting image of Thomas, and the girl is going to look just like you, right down to the red curls and rosebud mouth. They’re going to have long lives, too…they’ll outlive you. And remember that you’re very young now…not yet twenty…and you’re going to live to be very old. That guarantees them a long life, especially your daughter. She will live as many years as you, and your son, one year less. They’ll be around long after you’ve moved on.

"There’s one other thing." He hesitated. "It’s about the war."

"What is it?" Rose looked at him, her eyes worried. She already knew that Thomas was going to go to war, but what else was going to happen?

"Something bad is going to happen. I wish I could tell you what it is, but I don’t know myself. All I know is that you’re going to survive, that you’re going to be strong. It won’t destroy you."

"But what about Thomas? Will he survive?"

"I don’t know, Rose. I really don’t. You’re going to have to be strong, whatever it is, and keep making each day count."

"Jack, if you aren’t going to be looking out for me anymore, maybe you could look out for Thomas, be his guardian angel during the war. You could warn him of things that are going to happen…"

Jack smiled sadly. "It doesn’t quite work that way, Rose. I can watch him, and see what’s happening, but there really isn’t much else that I can do. Just remember that I’ll always be there, Rose, always be watching you. No matter what happens, you’re going to make it. I promise."

"Oh, Jack…"

"Life is full of surprises, Rose, and no one can tell for sure what’s going to happen in the future but God. And maybe not even Him. All I can tell you is that you have to make the most of every minute, make each day count. You’ve done a good job so far, but you have to keep going. That’s what life is all about—living. You’ll be all right, no matter what happens. I know you, Rose, and you won’t break your promise."

"No, I won’t." Rose lifted tear-filled eyes to meet his. "Oh, Jack…"

He embraced her one more time, then pulled back.

"It’s time for you to go back now, Rose. Until we meet again."

*****

Rose clung to him as he faded away and a new image imposed itself—the ceiling of her bedroom. She found herself lying beside Thomas, his arms around her.

She cuddled closer, thinking about what Jack had said. She could lose Thomas, and she knew it…but there was no telling if it would happen. Something bad would happen, Jack had said, but that could be any number of things. Even mild things could be bad at first.

And whatever happened, life would go on and she would survive. She would live out her life making each day count. Somehow, this thought filled her with hope, and she took Thomas’s hands in hers, feeling better than she had in a long time.

Chapter Thirty-Four
Stories