Jack whistled as he came down for breakfast the next morning. "You're awfully chipper," Alan said, pouring a cup of coffee.

Jack sat down opposite him. The small table was heaped with food. "I feel great," he said. "I haven't felt this good in years." He grabbed a piece of toast and began spreading a thick layer of butter and jam over it. "You know, I slept all night. Didn't wake up once. Didn't dream. Just woke up this morning, no drowsiness, nothing, just read to take on the day." He ate the toast in two bites.

Alan watched him with amusement. "Do you want a plate for the eggs, or should I just pass you the platter?"

"I could probably eat the whole platter," Jack replied. "I always thought it was crazy how much food you have made for each meal, but today, I'm glad you do it." He took a handful of bacon slices and began eating them, one by one. Between bites he said, "I'm just so hungry. It's like I haven't eaten in days, and everything tastes so different. Better. Colors are brighter. When I looked outside, the world was so beautiful. The sky, the sun, that tree out back, it was amazing."

"I'm not sure what happened to bring this about," Alan said. "But you should invite me along next time."

"I'm in love." Jack shrugged. "That's all."

"The long lost girl you ran into the other night? So, that's working out? You didn't say a word yesterday. The way you rushed out, it couldn've gone either way."

"She—it was better than I could've hoped," Jack said. "It was like we hadn't been apart. Everything was the same between us."

"It's been what, six years? Nothing can be exactly the same after that,"

"It is with us. And Sylvia—"

"There's another girl?" Alan said incredulously. He raised an eyebrow. "No wonder you're so happy. I would assume one was enough, but what would I know?"

"Well, one's too much for you," Jack joked.

Alan chuckled lightly. "I suppose it is. Don't remind my brother, alright?"

"I doubt he'd speak to me," Jack replied. "Which reminds me, I'm gonna pay you back, and I'll find my own place soon."

"You know you don't have to do that. I have more than I need, and I'm happy to help. I have so few friends these days." There was a wistful note in his voice.

"Yeah, I know, but you've done a lot for me," Jack pointed out. "And you deserve something back. So, I'm gonna get a job. I have some letters from the people I worked for in Italy. I just didn't care until now." Jack's expression became serious. "Alan, have you ever thought about having a child?"

Alan laughed. "What, me have a child?"

"Yeah, have you thought about it?"

"I guess a few times, but never seriously. I don't dislike children, but I know fatherhood isn't for me. You'd have to talk to my brother, the Great Patriarch, about that. Why do you ask?"

"Sylvia's a child," Jack said slowly. "My child. With Rose. I didn't know about her until we met again the other night. She's six." He stirred his coffee. "She's smart and great and beautiful. I spent yesterday with her, and it was amazing. I felt connected to her. I saw myself in her. She has my eyes."

"Well, she is your daughter."

"I know. I can't believe it. Me, a father. Jack, the guy who can't stay still, who has no responsibilities, no roots, becoming part of a family." Jack looked into his cup. "They don't need me," he went on. "Not really. Rose's doing fine. She's got a job, and it's something she loves. She has friends and a great place to live. Now that I'm here and can help, she doesn't need me anymore."

"I'm sure she still needs you," Alan said reassuringly. "Raising a child is more than keeping it fed, and even happy people can be lonely. Trust me on that."

"I wanna marry her," Jack said.

"Then you should. Don't let go of the person you love, especially if you're getting a second chance with them."

…..

Jack walked quickly, his long legs taking large steps. Alan kept up, but he grumbled about the pace. "You know, the store stay open until five," he said. "And it's only ten now. How can you run like that after eating so much?"

"I just can," replied Jack. "And I don't want to wait anymore."

"You aren't asking her today."

"No, but I like knowing I can." Jack grinned. "I'll have it when the time comes, no matter when it is."

"Aren't you two takin your relationship slowly this time? It could be months before you ask her."

"So?" Jack said. "It could be tomorrow. I don't know what's gonna happen, and we've already lost enough time."

The rings were overwhelming. Rows and rows of gleaming diamonds, sapphires, pearls, rubies, and dozens of other gems Jack was unable to identify. Some were small; some were so large he wondered how anyone could stand wearing them. There were gold bands, silver bands, white gold plain, and bands with intricate designs on them. A sign advertised custom engraving. He liked that idea, but what would it say?

The shop was mostly empty. A clerk stood a few feet away, ready to swoop in when necessary. "I don't know which one to pick," Jack said.

"Well, start with what you can afford," Alan suggested. "Ignore that goose egg over there."

"I wouldn't get her something like that. But I don't want it to be too small. Something in between." Jack bent down, studying a new tray of rings. "Something—" He pointed. "Like that," he cried excitedly.

"Which one?" Alan asked.

"That one."

"The pink one?" Alan said skeptically.

"Why not? It looks like her."

The clerk appeared in front of them. "May I help you gentlemen?" he asked smoothly.

"Yeah," Jack said. "I'd like to see that one."

"Very good sir."

The clerk handed Jack the ring. The band was silver. The stone was a deep pink diamond. It was large enough to be seen, but still far smaller than the once Cal had given her. Jack turned it over, watching it glitter in the light. "It's perfect," he said. "I'll take it."

"Not many people want the rose cut these days," the clerk said. "That's the only one we have."

"Rose cut?" Jack said.

"Yes, that's the cut of the diamond," explained the clerk.

Jack smiled to himself. "Yeah, it's perfect."

Rose leaned out the door. "Syvvy, it's time for lunch," she called. Sylvia scrambled to her feet and hurried inside. Dirt caked her knees; her shoes were scuffed, and her dress was grass stained. She carried a handful of rocks. Rose laughed. "What were you doing out there?"

"Digging for treasure." Sylvia held out the rocks. "See?"

"Yes, I see. They're very nice. Why don't you go get cleaned up?" Rose said. "Wash the treasure too, if you want to add it to the collection."

"Alright."

Rose watched as she went, humming to herself, as she rushed through the house. She hated bringing her inside. She was determined to give her everything she never had, including such mundane things as days spent playing outside and getting dirty. Rose knew she should send her to school, but she hated the idea. School had never been something she enjoyed, even though she loved learning. It was too rigid. The subjects never strayed beyond what was considered suitable for young ladies. There was always the option of sending her to one of the nearby public schools, but would Sylvia fit in there? She was so free-spirited and precocious, and her home life was nothing like the other children's. Rose couldn't bear the thought of her feeling different or strange or being teased.

For now, teaching her at home was the best option. There was nothing wrong with it. Rose knew many upper class families still educated their daughters at home, and so what if they weren't upper class?

"Isn't Marie here?" Sylvia asked.

"No, I wanted to have lunch alone," answered Rose. "We need to talk about something."

Sylvia looked up at her with blue eyes full of interest. "Is it about Jack?"

"What makes you ask that?"

Sylvia shrugged. "Just thought it might be."

"Well, actually, it is," Rose said. "Syvvy, do you like him?"

Sylvia chewed slowly. "Yes, she said. She tilted her head. "Is that all?"

"No. Would you mind spending more time with him? Alone, sometimes?"

"No. I said I like him," Sylvia answered.

"But—" Rose was at a loss for what to say. She couldn't put too much on her at once, but she needed to know where things stood. "Do you trust him?" she asked. "I mean, do you feel safe around him?"

"Shouldn't I?"

"Yes," Rose said. "You should." She smoothed Sylvia's unruly curls. "I just have to ask because we're going to be seeing him a lot now." Rose wanted to tell her he was her father, but she feared that would only confuse her. She couldn't tell the whole story yet, and without that Sylvia might not trust him to stay around.

"I thought we might," Sylvia said. "Last night he asked if he could marry you."

Rose couldn't help smiling. "Did he?"

"And I told him I wouldn't mind."

"Darling, do you understand what it means to be married?"

"Sure," Sylvia said. "It means you live together. And sometimes, you have children." Her eyes widened. "Would you have more children with him?"

"Maybe," Rose said. "Someday. I really don't know. I already have you. Wouldn't you like having more children around?"

"I don't know." Sylvia's expression was solemn. "I like him, but he's about all we need for now, isn't he?"

Rose gaze her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "That's all for now," she said. "I promise. Don't worry about anything. If I marry him, it won't be for a while. And only if you're happy with it."

….

Rose was startled by the sound of the doorbell. It was too late for the mail and too early for Marie. And she had a key. No-one from the theatre would come by unless something was wrong. The show's closing. The reviews that matter are in, and they're awful, she thought. "Keep reading," she told Sylvia.

She hesitated before opening the door, wanting to delay the bad news as long as possible. Rose was more relieved than surprised to see Jack. "Hello," she said smiling.

"Hi," he said. Her hair was pulled into a messy bun. Ink stained her hands, and her dress was a plain blue, but Jack couldn't take his eyes off her. "I hope it's alright that I'm here," he added. "I wanted to see you."

"It's fine," she replied. "Syvvy and I were just studying." She stepped back. "You can come in."

She led him into a room at the back of the house. It was large; windows let in the afternoon sun. Bookshelves covered the walls. A table was piled with books, maps, papers, and pens. Sylvia sat before it, her head bent over a green book. The chairs were plush and comfortable. "You can sit down," Rose said, indicating the empty chair next to Sylvia. She took the chair across from them.

Sylvia looked up from her book. She grinned at Jack. "Hello," she said.

He returned the grin. "Hey. Whatcha reading?"

"Anne of Green Gables."

Jack nodded thoughtfully. "That's a large book for such a small girl. You like it?"

"I've read it before," she said. "It's one of my favorites."

"Should I give it a try?"

She weighed the question carefully. "Yes," she said solemnly. "You look like you have an imagination."

"Well, thank you," he said. "That's nice to know."

Rose watched them, taking in the rapport developing between them. She could see Jack's interest in her was genuine, and she was grateful. She trusted him, but she didn't take chances where her daughter was concerned. Jack was her father, and he said he wanted to be in her life, but she couldn't entirely banish the fear that it would prove too much for him. But as she watched them share a book, her fear receded.

Imagining the three of them living together as a family was easy even though it was a dream Rose hadn't allowed herself to have before now. Thinking about him hurt too much at first, and then it had become almost a luxury, something she only occasionally indulged in. The daily task of living took up so much time and energy; she didn't want to get drawn into a dream she could never have. It was better to keep him in her heart, but firmly tucked away, like a something precious but fragile. She had thought of him the most while writing the play, but she tried not to make the character too much like him.

Jack caught her eye and smiled. "How would you some tea?" she asked.

"That's be nice," he said.

….

The afternoon wore on. Jack read with Sylvia. He helped with her geography lesson, even telling stories about his own travels. She listened, enraptured by the tales. "Can we go there?" she asked, as he finished a story about Spain.

"Sure," he replied. He looked at Rose. "If your mother'll come too."

Sylvia cast an expectant look at her. "Mama?"

"We'll see," Rose said diplomatically.

Jack leaned down and whispered to Sylvia, "I'll convince her."

"Jack, would you like to stay for dinner?" asked Rose. "I'm making it, so if you want to flee, I won't be upset."

"I'd love to stay," he said. "You sure you want me to?"

She nodded. "We'd like you to, wouldn't we Syvvy?"

"Yes," Sylvia said firmly.

Rose was almost finished preparing dinner when Marie came in. "So, we're seeing him again?" she said.

"Yes," Rose replied. "Do you mind?"

"Not at all. I'm just surprised. I didn't think you'd ever let a man near Sylvia."

"Jack isn't just any man," Rose said.

"I can see that from your face."

Rose blushed lightly. "No, I mean, he's her father."

Marie's eyes widened in astonishment. "I thought you said he was dead?"

"I thought he was, but I was wrong," explained Rose. "He thought I was too. We found each other when he came to the show, just by accident."

"Just by accident?" Marie folded her arms across her chest. "And he wants to be in your life again? And hers? Do you believe him?"

"Why shouldn't I?" Rose asked. "I have no reason not to trust him."

"But Rose, it's been six years," Marie said. "How can you be sure he's still the man you fell in love with? I'm not trying to criticize, but I think you should be careful. He seems nice, but00"

"But he could hurt us," finished Rose. "Raise our hopes and then disappoint us. Believe me, I know. I've been thinking about that. I'm not rushing into anything. I've made that clear to him, and he agrees with me. But I have to pursue this," she went on. "For my own sake as well as Sylvia's. They deserve the chance to know each other, and if I—is it selfish to say I deserve to have him too?"

"No," Marie said. "We all deserve the chance to be happy."

…..

Jack tried not to devour his soup, but he finished the first bowl in a matter of minutes anyway. He ducked his head sheepishly as Rose offered him more. "Please," he said, holding out his bowl. They both felt the electric charge when their hands touched. Sylvia ate slowly, watching the three adults and keeping any observations to herself.

"What do you do, Jack?—May I call you Jack?" asked Marie.

"Sure, go ahead," he said. "Everyone does. I'm not really doing anything right now, but for the past couple years I've been in Europe—Italy and Spain, mostly, collecting new art for galleries. They sent me out to find new geniuses. It was probably the best job I've ever had, and the crazy thing was, it actually paid well. At least, compared to what I was used to."

"That sounds wonderful," Rose said.

"It was. You woulda loved it," he said, looking into her eyes.

"Do you think you'll ever go back?" Rose asked.

"Maybe," he answered. "I've got some people here to meet, associates of the guys I worked for in Italy. I might get to do it again, just in America this time."

"So, you would be traveling a lot?" Marie said. Her tone was light, and she sounded interested, but Jack knew she was inspecting him. He didn't mind. He wouldn't have liked her if she hadn't. At least she wasn't condescending the way Ruth had been.

"I'm not sure yet," he said. "If I wanted, I could probably stay in New York. I've been traveling for a long time, and I'm not sure it's what I want to do anymore."

Marie responded with a softening of her expression. Jack sensed her had passed a test.

….

They walked to the theatre together, hand in hand. "So that was a great dinner," Jack said.

"I'm glad you enjoyed it. You turned up after I learned how to cook. You're lucky," Rose replied.

Jack put his arm around her waist, pulling her closer. "Yeah, I am," he said. "Just to have you at all."

Smiling, Rose leaned into him. "I'm sorry for the way Marie questioned you," she said. "She cares a lot about us. That's all."

"I can tell. I'm glad she does. It's good to have a friend to look out for you."

"You know, Sylvia already adores you."

There was a hopeful note in his voice. "Does she?"

"You can't see it?"

"Maybe," he said. "But I don't want to expect too much. She just met me. It's not fair to think I have a place in her life yet. Or even in yours," he added.

Rose looked up into his eyes. "But you do have a place, Jack. I love you."

"I love you too," he said. "I know we said we'd take this slow, but you need to know, I'm not going anywhere. I'm in this. I meant it when I said I wanted to be with you two."

"I believe you."

"But you have doubts."

"It's not that I don't trust you," she said. "I know what you said the other night, but this is all so sudden. And it means changing everything about the way you live. I just don't want us to get too involved and then lose you again. I know you asked Sylvia if you could marry me, but—"

"She told you?"

"She tells me everything," Rose said.

"I wanted to know how she'd feel about it," he said. "She might not like anyone with you."

"I don't think you have to worry about that/"

They stopped as they came to the theatre's back entrance. "I'm gonna ask," he said. "Eventually, when we're ready. I know I need to adjust, as much as you do, and I don't wanna put it off."

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying I want to spend more time with you and with Sylvia. Whenever you'll let me. I'll stay with her while you work. I'll help with her lessons. Anything. And I want time for us. I'm gonna woo, you remember?" He cupped her cheek. "And I am going to see about that job tomorrow. I'll stay in New York if that's what you want."

"I'd have to think about it. My whole life is here, but maybe leaving could work out. We could start over somewhere or travel, the way we talked about. I still haven't made it to that pier," she said.

"We'll go," he promised.

"You can come by the house tomorrow," Rose said. "After breakfast, Sylvia spends a few hours outside, and then we have lunch, and after that her lessons. It's not terribly exciting, but—"

"I'd rather be there than anywhere else. Can I come after breakfast?"

"We eat around eight-thirty. You can stay as long as you like," Rose said.

"I'll be there. You think I could teach her how to draw?"

She smiled. "I think she'd like that."

Jack kissed her, quickly but deeply. "Better get inside. I'll be here to walk you home later."

"Jack, you don't have to—"

"I want to," he insisted.

Jack arrived promptly at nine the next morning. He carried a large sketchbook and a wooden case of art supplies under his arm. Marie answered the door. "Punctual," she said approvingly.

Jack offered her a grin. "Good morning to you too."

"They're in the library," she said. "I trust you can find it."

"Thanks. I can. And Marie?"

"Yes?"

"I'm not going to hurt them," he said. "You don't have to believe me yet. But I mean it. I won't."

Marie searched his face. "See that you don't," she said.