WE’LL MEET TOMORROW
Chapter Eight

Early on Monday morning, Mac and Anastasia awoke. It was an odd feeling to know their days of freedom were over. Jack came to check on them and announced that Rose was making breakfast.

"Coming," Mac promised, gathering her supplies and following Anastasia down the steps. A pleasant smell of sizzling bacon wafted past as they entered the foyer, and they found Rose bustling about the kitchen. Coddie Anna was setting the table, and narrowed her eyes when her stepsister and friend arrived.

"Good morning, girls," Rose greeted. "Have a seat--breakfast should be just about ready."

Jack wandered around, packing his bag for work; he would be teaching art at the schoolhouse during the year.

"Dad, will I be in your class?" Mac asked, and he chuckled, planting a kiss on her head.

"Yes, honey, I do believe I will be teaching all of the younger students along with private lessons afterwards."

Mac and Anastasia looked at each other, smirking a little. For the majority of the summer, Jack taught private art lessons to an interested group of students, and had accepted the role of regular art teacher as well.

"Don't look so worried." He laughed. "I promise I won't embarrass you."

Mac made a playful face at him, thanking Rose when she began tipping food onto her plate. Michael came in to eat with them for the first time in a while, and smiled at Mac when they made eye contact.

"Dear, I understand you want to make yourself useful," Rose began, and he looked at her, his eyebrows raised, "but I don't want you to forget about being a child, either."

Michael nodded, sipping from his cup of coffee. He was fifteen and hardly a child; he'd been working like an adult for many years.

After breakfast, Jack encouraged the girls to climb into the carriage, and they waved to Rose, who stood in the doorway. It was a beautiful September day, though hints of summer still hung in the air. Anastasia was so nervous that she felt she might be ill from the somewhat bouncy movements. They arrived in town by 8:30--school began at nine o’clock sharp, and lasted until four o’clock in the afternoon. Jack led Mac and Anastasia by the hand to the schoolhouse door and introduced them to Mrs. Warren, the teacher.

"Good morning," she greeted, inviting them inside. "What are your names?"

"Macena Dawson..."

"Ana Dawson..."

"Coddie Anna DeWitt Bukater, Ma'am."

Jack explained Anastasia's position as Mac's cousin, who would be visiting for just a couple of months. He also introduced himself as the art teacher, and was told to see Mrs. Hemmit for the schedule. He said good-bye to the girls, who looked ready to run out after him. Mrs. Warren led them to their desks--Coddie Anna joined the older students on the opposite side, and Mac sat only a few desks apart from Anastasia. They glanced at each other uncomfortably, and for the first time in her life, Anastasia felt incredibly shy and at a loss for witty conversation. She was used to being introduced to strangers accompanied by her sisters, and tried to follow their example in public. Normally she was never truly on her own to make friends, and felt slightly helpless.

The children luckily seemed kind enough--there were a fair amount of boys and girls together, separated in blocks by not only gender but grade as well. Everyone eyed the newcomers and whispered to one another, trying to figure out who they might be. Mrs. Warren called everyone to attention when the clock struck nine o’clock, and told Mac to come to the front first and introduce herself.

Mac stood awkwardly, clasping her hands in front of her, and searched the room with her dark eyes. She explained how she'd come from Russia on the Titanic a few months ago, where her father worked as an artist. There was a murmur of excitement through the group, and a tall boy with brown hair said, "I'll bet that was neat, being in a real shipwreck!"

Mac scowled, catching Anastasia's sympathetic smile. "No," she retorted, "it wasn't! In fact--lots of people died, and there is nothing neat about that!"

The boy frowned and leaned back in his chair, playing with his inkwell.

"What was the ship like?" a girl with her blonde hair in two braids asked. "I heard it was the biggest in the world! Like a hotel on water!"

Mac nodded. "It was," she replied. "My father, cousin, and I were in steerage, but just seeing it up close was fantastic! I'd call it a hotel myself...my stepmother was in first class, so we got to see a bit of that, too. That's where she and my father met." She felt her cheeks warming when she saw Coddie Anna glaring daggers at her.

Mac allowed more questions, and answered them as best as she could. She realized how thick her accent had become since spending three years with the imperial family; it sounded more British, and her father had acquired a slight accent as well, but not as significant.

When it was Anastasia's turn, everyone seemed curious as to why she was returning to Russia. "That's where I was born, of course," Anastasia replied. "I'm going to be here until January," she added when someone inquired how long she'd be in the states.

"How's she your cousin if she is from America?" someone asked in a rather snotty voice, and Mac shrugged her shoulders, hoping Anastasia's story-telling skills were sharp enough that early in the morning.

"She's my cousin, because her Mum grew up in Russia, and married her father who is an American, while they were still there...they came back here to America where Mac was born. Now, are there anymore stupid questions?"

Mac covered her face with her hand and slumped down in her chair as a whisper seemed to go over the crowd.

"All right, children, I think we've exhausted poor Ana up here...it's time to give Coddie Anna a turn. Thank you, dear. You may sit down."

Anastasia did as she was told, and Mac sighed softly. Coddie Anna clearly hated to retell her story of the Titanic; Cal's face kept appearing in her mind whenever she'd mention how Jack came to meet her mother, and how they fell in love at first sight. "But see, my mother was already engaged to another man when she began to fall in love with my stepfather," she began, and Mac felt her body bristling, "but refused to marry the other man because she..." She paused, and looked to be struggling with her speech. "…she wasn't happy."

"That's so romantic," someone breathed from the back, and Coddie Anna swallowed, looking ready to cry, and Mrs. Warren allowed her to sit down, sensing her distress rather quickly.

Mac was grateful when books were passed out to begin lessons, and they included arithmetic, spelling, and geography. Mac flipped through the pages, not looking forward to spending her nights studying. Her tutors at the palace did give her a lot of schoolwork, but it was wonderful because during the spring and summer months, lessons would be held outside on the verandah.

"I want you all to give forth your best effort this year," Mrs. Warren began once she stood by the chalkboard again. "All of you carry your own unique talents, and even with those areas you may struggle with, I want you to really grab the bull by the horns and wrestle with it. Do not be afraid to ask me questions about anything...to ask is to learn, after all!"

There were giggles throughout the room, but Mac felt as though she liked this teacher, and school would not be so terrible after all.

For the first couple of hours they worked through arithmetic and spelling; Mac knew Anastasia struggled with both. It was especially apparent on her face as she went through the book, and when asked to spell a word out loud. They took a short recess for fifteen minutes, and when they came back, Jack was preparing their art lesson. Mac smiled at him when she came to her desk, though she couldn't help but feel a tiny knot of worry in her stomach. She had a feeling her father would expect a lot from her, to set a good example for the rest of the students.

Sitting on the desk was a bowl of fruit, and once everyone sat down, Jack began to explain the idea of a still life drawing. "Choose any angle of the bowl you would like, and select three pieces of fruit to sketch. Remember, this isn't a competition...as long as you show effort, that will be enough for me."

Mac bit her lip as he began to pass out paper and charcoal pencils to everyone. She was grateful when he didn't make any significant gestures in her direction when he came past, and she had to admit, she was proud to see him up there. However, when everyone began drawing, Mac found herself at a bit of a standstill. Art had never been her strong point; she preferred writing stories, reading, or playing the piano. She watched as Anastasia ran the charcoal very carefully along the paper, her tongue sticking from the corner of her mouth in concentration. Anastasia excelled in drawing and painting, so this was going to be her best subject without question.

Mac did what she could, and when they were asked to bring up what they had done so far at the end of the hour, she felt a pang of nerves. Mac remained in her seat, covering the drawing with her arms, and noticed her father glancing in her direction when he asked if he had everyone's assignments. "All right, then! I believe that will be all for today...I will have these back to you by tomorrow, and we can go from there. Break for lunch, now." He waited until everyone but Mac left. Anastasia waited by the door, and when she saw the expression on Mac's face, knew it was best to leave her alone for the time being. Jack walked up to her desk.

"Honey, why didn't you turn in your drawing?" Jack asked, placing a hand gently on her shoulder. "I saw you working very hard over here."

Mac shrugged, revealing the paper with her hands. "I'm not any good," she said softly. "I didn't want you to be disappointed. See how it's all lumpy?" She sniffed, and he sat down in the desk in front of her, squeezing her hand.

"Sweetheart, I want you to do what you can. I'm sure you feel like I'm expecting a lot of you, but that's not true...I know you have your own talents, but the effort is what matters in this case."

Mac accepted a handkerchief after she wiped a tear that fell down her cheek, and he stood. "Just be yourself, honey...I promise I'm not going to give you special treatment because you're my daughter." He planted a kiss on her forehead, and she smiled at him. "Go and have some lunch...I believe Rose packed something special for dessert today."

Mac smiled after handing the hanky back, and went to join Anastasia in the schoolyard. Jack watched as she disappeared through the classroom door and picked the drawing up, smiling sadly as he peered closely at her initials in the bottom right corner, which almost matched the style he used in his own art--MD, September 10th, 1912.

Anastasia was sitting with a group of boys around a picnic table when Mac found her, and was nibbling on a peanut butter and fresh homemade jam sandwich. "Mac!" she called, and Mac came over, sitting down and opening her own lunch. Sure enough, Rose had packed a couple of fresh chocolate chip cookies from the night before, which she refused to let either of them touch until that day. "Are you all right?"

Mac nodded, and Anastasia grinned.

"Good!" she began to introduce the lads, who were talking and joking with one another. "This is Matthew, Alexander, Eugene, and Johnny. Eugene's the one who thought the shipwreck was neat," she explained, and Mac scowled at him.

"Didn't mean to say that," Eugene replied, "but I've always liked 'em...especially pirate treasure ships and stuff."

Mac glanced over her shoulder at the girls jumping rope, and saw Coddie Anna sitting with another girl her age by the swing set. It was only natural that Anastasia would rather associate with boys; if she had a choice at the palace, she most certainly would have done the same. Unfortunately, the only children usually visiting the imperial family were cousins; having outside friends was a rare occurrence.

"S’okay," Mac replied.

"Say, your dad's the art teacher, ain't he?" Matthew asked, chewing on his apple. "Mr. Dawson? That's your last name, too, isn’t it?"

"Yeah...what about it?" Whenever anyone brought up her father, Mac usually got on the defensive because the last time someone used that tone was when they were about to make an insult. Anastasia herself had suffered dearly for it, wearing a black eye for at least two weeks after Mac punched her.

"He seems real nice...I wish all teachers were like that!"

Mac and Anastasia smiled at each other, continuing to eat their lunches.

"Oh...Ana tells me you play football," Johnny pointed out, and Mac stopped in mid-chew. She swallowed and gave Anastasia a look. "We were wondering if you'd like to play with us."

"Yeah, we can play a little," Mac replied. "We won a bet on the Titanic."

"We'll have to see how good you are then, being girls ‘n all," Eugene teased, and Anastasia stood on the bench, leering down at him.

"Say that one again, and I'll slug ya," she threatened, and Mac grabbed her arm.

"I was only joking!" Eugene promised, holding up his hands in defense, and they gathered around the clear section of the field. Coddie Anna looked up just in time to see Mac tackling one of the boys in the midst of the game, and her mouth hung open in horror.

"Isn't that your sister playing with those boys?" Sally, the girl sitting next to her, asked, and Coddie Anna wanted to sink through a hole in the ground. "Let's go watch...this I gotta see!"

Coddie Anna let Sally run ahead, and before she knew what was happening, a large crowd gathered, stunned by the fact that two girls were roughhousing just as much as the boys. Luckily, the game ended shortly before Mrs. Warren called them inside for the remainder of their lessons, though she was a bit disappointed to see Mac and Anastasia's filthy dresses.

"What on earth were you doing, girls?" she asked, clicking her tongue, and Mac blushed.

"Playing football, ma'am," she replied, and Mrs. Warren drew in a breath.

"That is far from proper ladylike behavior! I will ask you not to do it again, please," she said, and Anastasia frowned with disappointment as they were asked to go and sit at their desks. Lessons continued for the next couple of hours, with one final recess before the end of the day arrived. Everyone rushed for the door once chores were taken care of, and Anastasia waved happily to the boys they spent their lunch hour with.

Jack sat in the carriage waiting for them, and noticed Coddie Anna keeping a few paces behind. "Honey, what happened to your dress?" he asked in dismay as Mac climbed into the front seat, and she blushed, glancing at Anastasia, who lowered her head.

"We were playing football at recess," she explained, and Jack raised an eyebrow.

"Mac, you should know better than that," he replied, and she hugged her schoolbooks to her chest, her drawing in her hand. "Rose put a lot of time and effort into your school clothes, so I would hope you'd take good care of them. I don't mind if you have your friends over and play football at home, but please, not at school, huh?" He accepted a kiss from her, and smiled when she handed him her drawing. "I see you've decided to turn it in at last," he chuckled, and she wet her lips.

"Sorry," she apologized, watching as he put it with the others.

"Next time I'll expect it before the end of the lesson. Hmm?"

She nodded, and they started for home. As they left town, Jack asked how they enjoyed their first day of school. Mac and Anastasia began to respond at once, and he had to whistle, encouraging them to speak one at a time. He was very pleased to discover they had such a good time, despite struggling a little with their lessons.

"I did like exercise class, though...and art, of course!" She beamed, and Jack nodded, excusing himself to sneeze three times, which startled them into silence.

"Bless you," Mac breathed as he pulled his handkerchief out of his pocket. "Are you all right, Dad?"

He nodded after blowing his nose. "I'm sorry, honey--thank you. I'm not used to the dust from the chalk board."

Mac glanced at Anastasia, whose eyes were wide. They arrived home to find Michael helping Rose in the kitchen, and both were chatting to each other in quiet voices. Mac grinned when he offered to help her with her books, and brought Anastasia's pile upstairs as well. Unfortunately, this left Coddie Anna to handle her own, and she brushed past them, running up the steps towards her bedroom. Mac bit her lip and encouraged Michael to come into the parlor with her, and he raised his eyebrows with concern.

"What's the matter?" he asked, confused, and she clasped her hands behind her back.

"I can't believe I'm actually defending her, but you should've offered to carry Coddie Anna's books, too," she began quietly, and Michael frowned.

"Oh, dear," he murmured under his breath. "I didn't even think about that. I kind of forget she's there half the time because she hardly speaks."

Mac nodded in understanding. "Yeah, I know. I..." They both jumped when Jack sneezed again, and Mac shook her head. "I just don't want to give her another reason to hate me."

Michael promised to be more perceptive of Coddie Anna, and they rejoined the rest of the family in the kitchen. Jack took over helping Rose prepare the meal, and smiled when Mac stood next to him.

"Is everything all right?" he asked, glancing at Michael apprehensively, and she nodded.

"Yes, sir," she promised, and she smiled at Rose with amusement. Coddie Anna came back down as soon as dinner was ready, and accepted an apology from Michael with a small nod.

Rose certainly improved her cooking skills every time she used them--that night they had pork chops, scalloped potatoes, carrots, and fresh rolls. Anastasia had to admit that the choices for American food were more to her liking than the bland meals from her own country.

"Coddie Anna, how is your French coming along?" Rose asked once everyone served themselves, and she shrugged.

"All right, I suppose," she replied. "We didn't learn very much yet." When Coddie Anna had lived in upper class society, she was sent to a private, all girl's school during the day. It wasn't something her grandmother approved of, but her parents had been very adamant about her education.

"Of course, it is just the first day," Rose insisted. "They don't want you to be too in over your head just yet."

Coddie Anna smiled faintly, and Mac told Rose all about playing football with the boys. Just as she expected, Rose had the same reaction, and insisted Mac refrain from rolling around in mud while at school. Coddie Anna produced a rather wide grin, which blatantly said, "I told you so!" Mac scowled at her.

After supper, Mac and Anastasia did what they could to help clean up, and Mac felt a surge of excitement...Rose was starting to grow a bit of a stomach, just barely noticeable beneath her dress.

When the dishes were clean and put away, Mac read in the parlor while Anastasia wrote letters to her family, and Jack sat on the couch going through the assignments from the art class. Mac joined him shortly, and he wrapped an arm around her shoulders, hugging her tightly. There was certainly a variety of talent throughout the class--some really stood out as potential artists, while others didn't seem to care and just scribbled nonsense.

Laying in bed that night, Anastasia whispered to see if Mac was still awake, and sure enough, she was.

"I think I'm gonna like this American school," she said, and Mac nodded, tucking her hand under her cheek. "Do you miss our tutors at the palace?"

"Yes," Mac replied. "I miss everything about the palace. This place doesn't feel nearly as much like home as in Tsarskoe Selo."

Anastasia grinned. "I hope someday Alexei marries you and you become Tsarina," she said, and Mac felt her heart racing anxiously. Anastasia read her mind sometimes, and it was actually quite creepy!

"D'you think he would?" she asked, and Anastasia propped herself up on her elbows.

"Of course...he already told me he loves you," she said, and Mac sat up straight, stunned.

"He did...when?" She gripped the edge of her pillow, and Anastasia smiled.

"After Olga's ball...he said he was gonna marry you someday. I told him to go and jump off a bridge, but I knew he meant it..."

Mac felt as though she were floating. If only Anastasia could know how much this meant to her…

"He asked me once on the Standart, when we were only five, and I told him he was stupid," Mac admitted, and Anastasia smirked. "If he says it a third time, will you tell me?" she added, and Anastasia nodded, laying back down.

"Promise I will," she whispered, closing her eyes. "G'night, Mac." She turned over on her other side, and Mac lay staring into the darkness for a good while, pondering what her best friend had told her. I will pray for a third time, she thought. I don't care if I'm too young yet. She gave a small sigh before drifting off to sleep, hugging her pillow close.

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