Chapter Four

It's June 10th, 1914. I must say, the last few months have been a whirlwind. John swept me off my feet, not that I'd want him to, of course, but still, something inside me has some feelings for him. Since the day on the pier I've moved in with him permanently. He doesn't make me pay rent, though I've taken a liking to working, so I've snagged a few jobs as an extra on a movie set. I never thought that little old me would be in the movies, even if I do fade into the background.

After a long day, running about Los Angeles, working and assisting the directors I practically fall into the couch. I put my feet up. John laughs. "Comfortable?"

"Quite," I say, smiling, "My feet are tired."

"That's a shame," he says flatly.

"Why?" I ask, lowering my feet back to the ground.

"I wanted to take you down to the pier, maybe have a little fun."

It's a shame that I haven't done everything at the pier yet. I rode the roller-coaster a few times, but that's about it. The days are beginning to blend together, but still, I want to keep my promise to Jack. If he can't be here, why waste this opportunity with John. "We can still go," I say.

"Not if you're that tired," he says.

"I'm not that tired," I say, mocking him, "I'll be fine."

"If you're sure," he says, skeptical.

A few hours later, John walked me down to the pier. All the while we chatted about our days. I like to catch glimpses of him as I talk, he's a very captive audience, and impeccable listener. "I needed this, John," I say, "I need to get back to myself."

I add, "Do you know what I mean?"

"Yeah," he says, "Lots have changed these last few months."

Though we are not romantically involved with each other, I'd have to imagine going from a bachelor to living with a woman is hard. It's been hard enough for me. It was easy living with Emma, but with John, I always have to be extra careful about things. That's not to say I don't like his company. In some ways, he's better to live with than Emma was. Though initially I was only going to stay at his place for the short-term, everything seems to be falling into place. He's like the missing piece to my puzzle.

"I'm sorry," I say, not knowing what else to offer.

"No," he says, "Don't be."

He adds, "These last few months have been the best."

"I didn't think they would be," I say.

"Oh I knew, Rosie," he says.

"Don't call me Rosie!" I say, irritated.

He laughs and says, "Why?"

I stop to think about it, "Well...I don't know," I say, "I guess it's okay."

"Well I like it," he says, "Rosie."

I roll my eyes and say, "So what are we doing here anyway?"

"I thought that was up to me," he says, pausing to smile, "And for you to find out."

"Damn you," I say, as we take our first step onto the pier.

We walk down the pier a long while, bypassing everything I was sure he'd take me to. The roller coaster, ferris wheel, or even just to get something to eat. "Why are we going down off the pier?" I ask John as he leads me down the steps.

"To try something new," he says, as he leads me onward on the beach.

We finally make it down the steps and onto the sand. "Take off your shoes," he says.

"What?" I ask

"Take them off!" he says, "Feel the sand."

Despite the fact I think he's mad I sleep off my shoes and hand them to him. "If you're going to make me do this, then you're carrying them."

He laughs and says, "Fair enough."

I squish my toes in the sand, it's warm, but not hot, unlike anything I've ever felt before. I run out ahead of him and spin and jump in the sand. I hear him run towards me, he has shoes off as well and has cast them into the sand behind him. "You'll never catch me!" I yell and break out into a run.

I laugh as it takes no time at all for him to catch up. He grabs me and I try to squirm away, all the while laughing hysterically. His hands tighten around my waist as he suddenly draws me closer to him. I look up and say, "John?"

"Rose," he says, not even calling me 'Rosie', which makes me wonder what he's doing.

"I have to tell you," he says, pausing, "I brought you out here tonight for a reason."

He continues, "I'm mad about you."

"I know," I say.

"You do?" he says, surprised.

"Not necessarily," I say, "I only knew I felt the same way."

"Feel or felt?" he asks.

"As if it makes a difference," I say.

"It does to me," he says.

"Feel," I say, laughing.

"Feel," he repeats.

Before he can say another word, I plant my lips on his and kiss him. "Right then," he says, "You don't know how long I've waited for this."

"Six months," I say.

He laughs and lets me go. He quickly grabs my hand. Behind us suddenly we hear a whinny and clomping. We turn to see two men on horseback. "Hello," they say, "Thirty cents a ride. Right along the water."

My heart pangs and I release his hand. Jack. Oh god. Jack. John says, "Sure."

"John," I say, "No!"

"Afraid of horses?" he says.

"No!" I say, "I just..." I trail off.

"Then you've got nothing to worry about!" he says, "Here, put your shoes back on."

I put on my shoes while he goes back for his. He hand the men 60 cents and walks back to me. "We have them for an hour."

"I don't know how to ride," I say, lying.

I do know how to ride, I just don't know how to ride like a man. "Don't worry, Rosie," he says, "I'll help you."

"Alright," I say, begrudgingly.

He helps me up onto one of the horses. I put my foot in the stirrup and throw my leg over the other side. My dress seams scream a bit but they don't burst. I hike up my skirt. He laughs and says, "Women really should wear pants. They'd be able to do a lot more."

"You're right," I say, "But it's the stubborn men that won't have that."

"I wouldn't say that," he says, "I want women to be equal to us."

"We still can't vote," I say.

"I'll vote for you," he says, "Whoever you want."

"That's completely absurd," I say, laughing.

"Excuse me!" a portly man says on the beach a few feet away from us.

"May I take your picture?" he asks, "I work for a movie production team."

"S-sure," I say, nervous, smiling.

I smile and he snaps the picture. "Can I have your name?" he asks, pulling out a piece of paper.

"Rose Dawson," I say confidently.

I give him my information and he says, "We'll be in touch."

The man leaves and John gets on his horse. For the next hour he takes me up and down the beach, slow at first, and then we run through the surf. I felt so free, like I was flying. I haven't felt that way in years, since I was standing on the bow of Titanic, arms spread wide. I quite like that John and Jack are connected in some way. He reminds me so much of him in many ways. I'm beginning to love him. Part of me wants to push him away, but part of me wants to never let him go. I know Jack wants me to move on. He wouldn't want me to suffer forever. Still, in my heart, he will go on, live forever. He lives in a part of my heart that not even a perfect man could replace. He's my Jack, I'm his Rose, but now I have a John and I'm his Rosie. Things are different. Very very different.