"She's a goddamned liar! Some nutcases seeking money or publicity… or God only knows what!" Lewis shouted. "She's like… that Russian babe… Anastasia!"
"Brock," Bobby said, running over to him and Bodine. "She's inbound!" He pointed over the railing of the boat. A helicopter was rapidly approaching. Buell, Lovett, and Bodine started walking in the direction of the landing pad.
"Listen to me, Brock. This woman says she's Rose Dewitt Bukater and married to Titanic survivor Jack Dawson, right? Well, Rose Dewitt Bukaterdiedon theTitanicwhen she was seventeen. If she'd lived, she'd be over a hundred by now!"
"A hundred and one next month," Brock corrected.
"Well, she's a very old goddamned liar!" Bobby said sceptical.
"Look, I've already done the background check on her all the way back to her twenties…" Bodine continued. "This woman was working as an actress back then. Anactress!There's your first clue, Sherlock! She moved to Santa Monica right before World War One, and had two kids before and after Jack came home from serving in the war!" he shouted.
Rose's PovWhen I ended telling everything they all stared at me crying. Lizzie, Rosalyn's daughter was sobbing. She knows of her parents story and she couldn't believe that the same happened to her grandparents.
"Well, what happened after with Jack? I think you had two kids and the one married the son of that bastard Hockley!" Bodine said.
"That son of bastard is my father" Lizzie snapped.
"Oh sorry Miss. What happened after?" Bobbine asked.
"Are you sure you want to hear it? It's a long story"
Five hours later, I was laying in my bed. I told them everything. Alex's birth, Rosalyn's adoption, that our daughter was a witch, when we met her parents, their marriages, their kids... everything.
Rose stared at the pictures of her life. She spend 20 long years without Jack and more without her children. There was a picture of Rose in a theatrically lit studio from her days as a silent picture actress. There was a picture of them from their wedding, and pictures of their times they had been on vacation, such as the two of them in Wisconsin at Lake Wisota with their fishing poles, holding up their catches, to one where the two of them were standing next to a flying machine of their own, with white scarves wrapped around their necks. There were even photographs and sketches Jack had made of their children and grandchildren growing up. From the day they were born, to the day they had children of their own. Rose smiled as she looked at all of them. Alex and Rosalyn were lucky kids. They died young. Sixty is not a very old age. They could live around eighty or ninety years.
As Rose drifted off to sleep that night, she knew what was gonna happen. She smiled as she started hovering and hovering when she was back in the Titanic.
Two stewards smiled at her and opened the door. She saw all the people she lost. Rosalyn, Nathan, Alex Cal, Madeleine, Tommy, Susan, Fabrizio, Helga, Mr. Andrews, smiling at her. And then she saw him. Jack.
Rose knew she lived a full life. She knew that her children made each day count. And she was proud. Proud of it.
I figure life's a gift and I don't intend on wasting it. You never know what hand you're gonna dealt next. To make each day count.
The end