Two weeks later…

It was Saturday afternoon and Rose had just gotten off from work. It's been a busy day busing table and having to put up with rude customers, but Rose still loved her job. She loved being among people, she loved working with her hands, but most of all she just loved staying busy because when she was busy, she didn't think about Jack. It's been two weeks since their conversation and whenever she wasn't busy with work or with her life, she found herself thinking about him, wondering where he was, what he was doing, did he even remember her since she had yet to receive a letter from him.

Maybe it was for the best that she didn't. It would only bring questions from her mother, who would discourage such communications with any man that wasn't Cal...or rich. Jack was neither, so Ruth Dewitt Bukater would definitely disapprove.

"Miss. Rose," Trudy greeted her as she came in, a white envelope in her hand. She held it out to Rose, her brown eyes bright with interest. "This came for you today, Miss. It's from an army base. Do you know anyone in the service?"

Rose's eyes widened at the news as she took the envelope, knowing that it could be from only one person. Jack! He had finally written to her!

"Kind of. Some one I met at the diner who was drafted. Thank you, Trudy," Rose eagerly opened the letter, then stopped. She looked up at the departing maid. "Oh and Trudy!"

"Yes Miss?" Trudy stopped to look back at the daughter of her employer.

"Not a word to my mother, please. She wouldn't approve."

"Not to worry Miss. I won't say anything."

"Thank you," Rose smiled, thankful that it was Trudy that had gathered the letter. She was the only servant that was willing to keep her secrets. She was the only one that was privy to how unhappy she was with the coming engagement and her own aspirations and dreams. Truthfully, besides Molly, Trudy was the closest thing that she had to a real friend.

Quickly, Rose ran up the stairs to her room and closed the door, wanting as much privacy as she could possibly get. She did not want any interruptions from her mother while she read Jack's letter. She sat on her bed and withdrew Jack's letter out of the envelope. She smiled at the neat cursive writing, he certainly did have nice handwriting for a man. Maybe that was all part of being an artist. Leaning back against her pillows, she began to read…

Dear Rose,

I am not in Vietnam yet. I am at Fort Kennedy, near San Diego. It's not too bad here. We are placed two to a tent, so I have a roommate. The weather is warm and the food is not that bad. Training is a bitch though and everything is so controlled here. Everything has to be just the way the head huncho's want it. From the way we make our beds to how we hold our weapons, to how we salute the higher ups.

So far I get along with everyone though. Nearly everyone is looking forward to heading out to Vietnam and kicking some ass. Which is why I feel like such an outsider. I don't want to kick anyone's ass. I just want to go back home, draw, and get to know the cute red head girl with the bow in her hair a lot better.

I think about that conversation in your truck a lot, Rose. Mostly, I think about your pretty smile. It's what's getting me through this. That smile of yours and knowing that you weren't some beautiful dream. That you're out there living life.

If only I had a picture of you. I drew you one, but I'm not sure if it does you justice. I've sent it with this letter.

Anyway, I have to go. I will write again soon. You don't have to write back if you don't want to or can't. Don't worry about it. It just kind of makes me feel better, writing to someone. I don't feel so alone.

Anyway, I hope that you are making each day count, Rose. Live life to the fullest for the both of us.

Sincerely yours,

Jack Dawson

Noticing that there were two pieces of paper, she looked at the other one and gasped. It was a sketch of her two weeks ago, when they had met. Indeed, there was the bow in her hair and she was laughing. He had captured her perfectly, just from his memory of her. How extrodinary! She was beyond touched.

She had to write back. She had to let him know that she loved the picture! She went to her desk and pulled out her own pen and personalized stationary that she had received as a birthday gift last year. She sat at her desk and began to write.

Dear Jack,

I had just received your letter. I am glad that things are going well for you and continue to pray that they continue to do so. Believe it or not, I have never slept in a tent before. Maybe someday you can take me camping. You can teach me about fishing and building a camp fire. I bet you are great at it.

I think of that night too. I especially think of your kindness and of your smile, which lit up a room. I wanted to get to know you more so badly, I wish that you didn't have to go to war. That there was time to get to know you. To walk the beach with you, maybe even dance with you, even though the kind of parties I've been to are not the kind you dance at, but still...I want to know you. Your likes and dislike, your fears and dreams…

I am getting ahead of myself. We don't even know each other and already I am being more than nosey.

By the way, I love your drawing of me. You did more than do me justice. In fact, I think that you made me prettier than I actually am. Which is very sweet. I hope that you send me more of your drawings.

..

They are truly lovely. But a sketch is never as good as a photo, so I am sending you a picture of me to keep with you, so you won't feel so lonely. It may be inappropriate, but I don't care.

Take care, Jack. Please come back when you can.

Sincerely yours,

Rose Dewitt Bukater (see, I wrote it down for you!)

Rose pulled out her private album and pulled out a picture of her standing by herself against her truck. Her red hair was down, the curls flowing over her shoulders and back. She wore a yellow sundress and her smile was bright and carefree. It was how she wanted him to see her. She found an envelope and scribbled down her address and his return address and stuffed the letter and the picture inside. She quickly found a stamp and sealed the letter. There, it was all ready to go.

She could hear her mother now, saying how inappropriate this was. That she was soon to be an engaged woman. She shouldn't be writing to this boy, much less sending a picture of herself. But Rose didn't care. There was something about Jack. She didn't want to let him go. She didn't know what it was, but she was going to keep writing him as long as he wrote her. She didn't care what anyone else had to say about it.

…..

The next day at the diner, Rose found Molly and showed her the drawing. The older woman whistled, impressed by the artist's obvious talent.

"And he drew this from memory?" Molly asked.

"Yes. Isn't he extraordinary?"

"Yes he is, and if I remember, quite handsome too. Just be careful, Rose. He's going to nam..."

"I know that. Besides, I'm nearly engaged."

"Being engaged doesn't stop feelings from growing, darlin'."

"Molly..."

"Look, I'm telling ya this for your own good. There's a chance that this young man might not make it back. Don't go throwing something away, for something that may end before it even has a chance to begin."

Rose sighed, understanding perfectly what Molly was saying, and she would be right. She was getting engaged to Cal. She was going to marry him. She shouldn't be encouraging whatever this was with Jack, especially when there was a huge chance that he could be killed. But she couldn't help herself. There was something in his soul that called out to hers and wouldn't be denied. She didn't even want to deny it. She wanted to see where this leads...and if Jack did survive...well she certainly preferred him to Cal...even though she could never admit that. Not yet…