Southern Californian summers were a breath of fresh air (literally) compared to Pennsylvanian summers. Rose was used to a sticky, humid and hot July and August, and could have been convinced that the calendar was still mid-May with the way the breeze was so light and cool, the air dry. She'd spend many of those days inside, fanning herself in her corset, lounging around. Instead, she was turning twenty, and she'd never been so inclined to spend her birthday outdoors than this year.

While setting a bowl of fruit she'd packed on their picnic blanket, Rose saw Josephine run past her out of the corner of her eye, meaning Jack had let her go at last. Rose sighed, knowing one of them would have to go chasing after her eventually. Ever since her legs had started taking her places at a faster pace, she couldn't stop running around and after everything.

"I'm sorry," Jack said as he appeared next to her. "She was getting too fussy. But isn't she adorable?"

They watched as their one-and-a-half-year-old daughter chased a monarch butterfly, red curls bobbing around her ears, a smile brighter than the sun on her face. Her blue eyes tried to soak up the entire world around her, yet focused on one thing at a time, studying each subject intently. Though Jo was only a baby, and she had felt rather young and unprepared when she'd had her, Rose couldn't help but think that they had done something good by bringing her into the world.

"Look at this," Jack said, breaking her concentration from Jo long enough for her to sit down on the blanket beside him.

"Yes?" she said, though her focus bounced between him and Jo, frantic in her curious hunt.

"You can look away for a minute, Rose. I can see her," Jack reassured her, and when Rose finally peeled her eyes off of her boisterous daughter, she looked at what was in Jack's hand—and she couldn't prevent herself from gawking.

"Is this—"

"Backseat tickets to see Hamlet? You bet it is," he said, a smile so wide on his face, it was impossible to smack off.

"But… But how…," Rose stammered, searching for the right words. She and Jack needed to save money, not spend it. Weren't these tickets expensive? "Weren't they…" She tried to speak her mind, but she ran out of breath, she was just so stunned.

"I know how much you love the theater and how you might want to get involved in it at some point. My boss got the tickets for his wife. Said something came up, so I got 'em."

Rose remembered the last time she'd seen a show. It was a production of Madame Butterfly, and she'd seen it closely after she and Cal had become engaged. Cal had then complained about the show (and the theater in general), how it had made Rose "weepy" and he would take none of that, and she had been banned from the theater ever since. "Jack, I… I don't—"

"You don't have to say anything. It's your birthday gift." Jack's face contorted as he pondered something of concern. "Except promise me, maybe, that you'll explain what they're talking about at some point?"

Rose laughed, though she couldn't say she was a master at Shakespeare herself. "Of course." She sat back, taking a glance at Jo before admiring the tickets again. She still couldn't believe she was going to see a show tomorrow night—so soon! "Did you know this is one of my favorite shows of his?" Jack shook his head. "I have so many thoughts about Ophelia."

Back when he was fifteen and ditching school, Jack would have hated the mere mention of discussing Shakespeare, but now he had a smile on his face. "Can't wait to hear them."

As they watched Jo run around some more, tiring herself out to the point that she fell to the grass and started picking on the plants and insects with her curious fingers, Rose couldn't help herself as she said, "'To thine own self be true.' Polonius says that to his son, Laertes, to stay honest to his character. But to Ophelia, Laertes' sister, it's all about maintaining her purity, her virginity, her beauty—all of that superficiality."

Jack barely had to think about it, his values often aligning with Rose's, as he replied, "That's bullshit."

Rose picked up a strawberry from the bowl, but dropped it when she realized she wasn't that hungry anymore. "I know! Everyone wants to advise her on what's best, and it stifles her, really, in the end, what all of that 'well-intentioned' advice from the men in her life did to her." She picked up the strawberry again, forcing herself to take a bite. "And then you wonder why she was driven insane."

Two decades on this planet, and Rose felt fully formed like a blossomed flower and naive like a sprouting seed that hadn't yet seen the sun. Sometimes while watching her eighteen-month-old daughter, which she often did while waiting for Jack to come home from work, she would think, How could she raise a baby? She was just a child herself.

She'd relayed these thoughts to Trudy, whose reply letter she was perusing as Jo played with her toys on the floor. Rose was resting, propping her feet up on their stiff, worn couch that they had gotten secondhand from the neighbors upstairs (they were going to dispose of it anyway). As her eyes skimmed over the letter for what might have been the fourth or fifth time, she kept pondering what she was doing here in Santa Monica, a mother of one just starting to work, when she was younger than Trudy.

Dear Rose, I'm always happy to receive a letter from you, and to hear that Josephine is doing well and achieving so much every day. I wish I was there to see it all!

Rose wished Trudy was there, too. As much as she cared for Tommy and Fabrizio, she didn't feel like she had a proper friend here despite having settled for three months now.

Your mother and I are doing fine. Addressing your concerns… I will say it again, Rose, that you are an amazing mother. Will I go so far as to say you were put on this earth to be Jo's ma? Maybe. Because you are that wonderful, even if you are young.

Rose sighed, wanting to take in Trudy's words as true, but finding trouble in believing them at the moment. Sitting up, she crossed the room to the dining table, making sure not to run over Jo's toys (though it was challenging given the tiny apartment), and picked up the pen she'd been fiddling with that evening.

Dear Trudy, was all she had written. She'd never had such trouble writing to her beloved friend before, and her brain was wracked just trying to think of the words. Dear Trudy…

Was it true that for the first time in her life, she had nothing to say? That she had become one of those working mothers consumed by her job and taking care of her child, to the extent that nothing else occurred during the day to warrant a conversation? For her entire life, Rose felt like she'd had a story to tell. Now, since arriving in Santa Monica and settling in, she felt like she had...nothing. The story was over.

At that moment, Jack opened the door, disrupting her malfunctioning mind and giving her a breath of relief. "Hey," he said as he kissed her, noted the stressed smile pushing up her cheeks. "How was your day?"

Rose went down the typical, harmless path and said, "Fine." As if Jack was accepting of that answer. Usually he was skilled at coaxing out her true feelings to unpack and help process, but the strain on her face as she folded up the papers in front of her made him think twice.

"Glad to hear it," he said, flashing her a one-sided smile. Their relationship, like most, was like the Pacific Ocean that was a fifteen-minute walk away, coming and going in waves. Washing up on the shore was their incessant need for each other, a love that had difficulty being contained; but that meant that there had to be a time when the waves waned, collapsing back into the ocean, leaving the sand dry. Jack wished that their honeymoon phase could have waited longer past her birthday before falling…

Returning from the play, of which Rose had let her mouth run wild on the walk home, the clock was ticking close to eleven, but Rose couldn't feel more rejuvenated. She had talked Jack's ear off about the entire play—which he had enjoyed, but didn't have nearly as many opinions as Rose did—from start to finish. She only stopped herself to avoid waking Josephine as they entered the front door.

"Thank you, Sarah." Jack relieved their babysitter as Rose caught her breath, collapsing on the couch and paying attention to the whirring in her ears. Despite all of the death in the final act, Rose was bursting with life, and could feel the air moving through and out of her lungs. She couldn't imagine sleeping tonight.

"Jack," she whispered in a breathy voice, throwing her arms around his neck as he locked the front door. "I'm not tired…"

With a boyish grin and a returned "me neither," they made a night of it, not falling asleep until 4AM. Even then, when they had to wake up a couple of hours later to Jo's wakeful cries and chatter, Rose couldn't have pictured a more magical night, a birthday present that could have gone more how she wanted it to go.

Now, a week later, Rose was stressed, and the romantic energy was strained with her, leaving Jack concerned and anxious to say the least. He was more than willing to let it go, planning to ask her about dinner when, with an elongated sigh, Rose said, "I've been talking with Trudy, and I've been thinking… If I'm just too young to be a mother."

Surprised that she had said anything to him at all, Jack sat down, scooting the chair so that they were side-by-side. He said nothing, showing his support through his intense eyes and furrowed brow.

"I know I prepared my whole life to have children soon after I came out in society and married, but even then…" She looked off at Jo, who was getting tired; Rose could tell because she was getting quieter during her playtime. "There's still so much I don't know about the world. If I don't know it, how can I raise another person?"

Jack understood where she was coming from. Even though he had arguably experienced much more than Rose had when they'd met, he'd had the same concerns the moment he'd laid eyes on Jo. "Rose, how many times have we been through this?" He reached out and clasped her hand, grazing her skin that was becoming hardened by work. "You're a more than amazing mom, and to think otherwise is ridiculous. You're always learning, just like I am… My parents were, too, even when I was fifteen, right before they died. That's just how people are. Always learning. Remember what I said about life?"

You have to take life as it comes at you. How could she forget? "Yes, I do," she said, unable to stop the small smile creeping onto her face as thinking of that night often did to her.

"Then as long as Jo is happy… Isn't that all that matters?"

He got her there. He always seemed to catch her during her worst times, soothing her when she needed it most. She could feel his warm hand in hers, becoming warmer by the second. "Right," she said, her fingers entwining with his before they were interrupted by Jo's exasperated sighs.

"She's tired. I'll put her down," Jack said, the absence of his hand leaving coldness behind. As Rose watched Jack put Jo down to sleep, whispering good nights from them both, she picked up her pen again and let herself write a couple of sentences echoing Jack's sentiments: You're right, Trudy. I'm only human, and should let myself stay on the ground as such…

One late summer day, Rose woke up to the blistering heat encasing everything in the room, and—after glancing at the time—was surprised she hadn't woken up sooner. In fact, she was shocked she had slept at all last night, given how warm the weather had turned lately. She and Jack had been spending much of their nighttime awake, with the covers kicked off, talking while dabbing away at their foreheads, the entire time Rose wondering if one could catch a fever from being boiled alive.

But today she woke up late, and alone; Jack wasn't beside her, his spot dry and empty. Before she could get out of bed and check on Jo and check the kitchen, Jack walked through the door with Jo in his arms. "Good, you're awake," he said, looking vibrant despite their limited sleep. "Look who wants to visit." He bounced Jo in his arms, but she stayed quiet, shyer than usual.

Setting her between them, Jack relaxed back into the bed with Rose, and they watched as Jo got to work examining the white sheets, her mind able to take her to places they couldn't see. "What were you doing awake?" Rose asked while adjusting the hem of her nightgown, pulling it up to air out her calves.

"What were you doing asleep?" Jack questioned in return, and Rose recognized that as a fair comeback, and she had no answer for it. Before she could try to blab her way through one, though, Jo crawled over and started to climb onto Rose's lap, wanting to play with her parents now.

"Okay," Rose said as Jo tried to play clapping games with her mother again. "I love her more than anything, but we need to have a night to ourselves."

Jack agreed with vehemence, helping to remove Jo's fist from Rose's hair before it became a toy for another day.

That night, despite the last minute arrangements, Jack and Rose dropped Jo off at Tommy and Fabrizio's apartment and headed off. As soon as the door was closed between them and their boisterous daughter, and they hit the outdoor air as the sky turned from red to purple, they breathed a collective sigh of relief. "It's been a while, huh?" Jack said while entwining his fingers with Rose's, starting their stroll towards the pier.

"I know," Rose said. Her brows furrowed in inquisitivity as she shuffled through the files in her mind. "When was the last time we went to the pier on our own?"

"Mmm… Was it… May?" Jack couldn't even answer the question himself, and his memory was nearly as good as Rose's.

They spent a chunk of silence walking towards the beach, having found their space again in something that many found uncomfortable with a stranger or acquaintance, even a friend. "Jack," Rose said, breaking it, "can I ask you something?"

"Always."

"Are you happy?" She knew she had asked the question many times before, but with a sliver of doubt, she needed a sliver of reassurance. And so far in their relationship, she was able to get that reassurance. She knew that one day, she wouldn't need it anymore; but for now, she was still battling inner demons.

Jack was familiar with the question and its answer. "How could I not be? I have everything I need. My wife, my daughter. My friends, the beach. A steady job, a roof over my head. I'm in the best place I've been in…" He thought about it for a second. "In my entire life."

Rose nodded her head, thoughtfulness looming over her face. "I was thinking the same recently. But then I thought, maybe, with all of your adventures, with us holding you down—"

"I gotta stop you right there," he said, and he stopped, literally, in his tracks. "I've been to a lot of places in the world, met plenty of people, but I'd much rather be grounded here with you than be off traveling any day."

Rose's facial expression, rather than being warmed by a blush or ignited with a smile, seemed confused, like she was living through something unbelievable. "So you've given up that life then? For me?"

He stepped closer to her, cupping her cheek in his hand and finally provoking a grin out of her. "For us." With their lips so close, only inches apart, he closed the gap for a second, then pulled away, keeping himself close enough so that she still felt his warm breath against her skin. "Traveling the world or staying put, I don't care about all of that because all I want, all I've ever wanted, is you."

Hanging on to the blissful moment, Rose felt the pressure of his forehead leaning against hers and gripped his hands, both of which were holding her cheeks now. A word like "content" wasn't suitable to what she was feeling then, being held by him like that. She broke their contact only to give him a proper kiss, long and passionate and not at all something appropriate for public display. But she didn't care, and never did. She then wrapped her arms around his neck and sighed into his shoulder, finding more bliss in the way his hands encased her waist.

"Thank you," Rose said, and Jack only hugged her more flushed against him, knowing exactly what she meant.

It was a Friday, and Tommy and Rose were working the same shift, passing glances at each other as they eagerly waited for six o'clock to hit. The day shift was always the slowest and most boring when working at the bar, but sometimes Rose needed that for her own sanity. Today, however, she wanted to get home. She and Jack had planned for a simple night in, to escape some of the coolness of the approaching fall weather, to play with Jo and then talk until they couldn't find the words to speak anymore. It was a tradition that usually ended in someone falling asleep or clothes being scattered, one of the two, and Rose always looked forward to it, as it only happened when their schedules synced up.

"Tommy!" a voice exclaimed, and Rose fought the urge to look up from her notepad to acknowledge the voice she knew like her own. As she wrote down the order she was taking, her mind was crying out that Jack and Fabrizio were finally here, and that meant she only had a few more minutes left to her shift.

"Someone will be right out with that," she said with a polite smile, leaving the order by the kitchen before stuffing the notepad in her pocket and meeting Tommy behind the bar. He was in a huddle with Jack and Fabrizio, discussing something intently. Rose popped up behind, squeezing herself in. "What is it? Shift's over," she said, and only then did she realize she had interrupted something important.

"Rose," Jack said, stepping away from the counter, "I wanna share something with you. Can we…" He pointed to the back door, where Rose was planning to head out anyway, and she nodded, a nervous lump taking root in her throat. As she grabbed her coat, she glanced at Tommy and Fabrizio, sensing no trepidation between anyone, yet nervous anyway.

"What is it, Jack?" Rose asked once they were outside and alone.

Jack took Rose's hand, her spine tingling as his fingers laced with hers. "Fabrizio and I have been talking for a while, and we have this idea…We really want to start up our own bar." Rose didn't react, speechless. "And we think with Tommy, and you, all of us, we can have a real shot."

Dumbfounded, Rose could only stumble through incomplete sentences. "Since when… Why… I don't remember you ever saying…"

"I know it seems like it came out of nowhere," Jack said, acknowledging her confusion. "But we've talked about this as a dream for a while now, something to brush off, not worth mentioning… Until now." Suddenly feeling a tad foolish, he took a deep breath and continued, "I've been saving up some money on the side—not a lot—to see if this was possible, and-"

"Jack," Rose interrupted him, her feelings finally catching up to her. "You don't need to justify yourself to me. This idea… If you follow through with it—with reasonable plans, of course—then I'd be more than happy to be a part of it."

A delighted twinkle took over Jack's eye. "So it's settled then?" he said, his voice showing off his elation. "We're going to give this family-and-friends' business a try?"

Rose laughed a boisterous, air-filled laugh alongside his high spirits, needing a boost from their repetitive routine lately. "Yes," Rose said, throwing her arms around him. "Oh, Jack, I'm so happy for you."

"You mean us," he said, pulling her waist closer to him even though it was physically impossible.

"Yes… Us," Rose said, and she thought about it then, their little family—Jack, Rose, and Jo—and the friends they'd settled down with here, the dreams she used to just jot down on paper in a frivolous script. Now, how it was all tangible in front of her; it was no longer fantasy, it was her life. She was Jo's mother again, like her soul had once been dying inside to be; she was with Jack again, Cal was a distant memory; and they'd run away together to the west coast, and were living by the pier she'd been told awe-inspiring stories about. She was reminded of all of that, just being swept up in Jack's arms.

Rose couldn't have dreamed up a better reality.

We're approaching the end here, guys. Just one more chapter to wrap things up...