COLLIDE

Chapter Three

The little girl squirmed impatiently in her chair. Jack smiled and continued his drawing, meeting the eyes of her amused grandpa and they shared a quick chuckle. Once Jack had finished, he quickly signed it and held it up for the little girl to see.

The little girl smiled widely and reached for her picture.

"I love it, I love it, I love it! Thanks you, Mr. Dawson. It looks just like me."

Jack smiled and handed the drawing to her.

"I'm glad. It was worth sittin' in that chair, wasn't it?"

The girl nodded and sat back down in her chair, studying the drawing carefully. Jack and the girl's grandpa shook hands.

"So Mr. Dawson…"

"Jack."

The older man chuckled and continued: "Jack. Do you come to Central Park often?"

"Ah, yes I do. I do most of my drawings around here."

"Well, Jack that was very impressive work."

"Thank you."

"And you've made a certain granddaughter of mine very happy."

Jack laughed. "Well, I aim to please, sir."

"That's good to hear, Jack, because I own a gallery not too far from here. My name's Bill Harper and I would love to feature you as an artist in my gallery."

Jack's mouth dropped open in shock.

"Wha…I mean…are you serious?"

Bill laughed and nodded his head.

"Of course, Jack. Your work is truly exquisite. I know we both can make a lot of money if you work with me. How many drawings do you have?"

Jack scratched his head in thought.

"I have a bunch at my room. I could be back in a few minutes."

"Please. Bring whatever you can."

Jack nodded and quickly headed to his room.

Rose sighed and laid back down in her bed. Her stomach was finally starting to feel better after almost three hours of vomiting. This was not good. Somehow she had known all along that this was going to happen to her. So she really wasn't all that surprised when she had begun vomiting several days ago. Yet, a part of her wished that this wasn't happening to her. If Jack couldn't be there with her, then she didn't want this. But then again, this was her only way of hanging on, of keeping his memory alive. His child would be able do that better than she ever could. A part of her was ecstatic that she was having Jack's child, but the other part of her was so sad. Sad that Jack would never see his child. Sad that their child would never know its father.

She needed to stop this. First, she needed to go to the doctor and get herself checked out. Then she could figure out everything that needed to be figured out. After all, she did have about eight months.

"Well Rose, you were right. You are indeed pregnant. About three months along actually. You're in perfect health and don't worry, the morning sickness will pass eventually. Make sure you take these vitamins once a day and follow the nutritional guide in that pamphlet. I would also like to see you about once a month for a checkup if that's alright with you."

Rose nodded. "Of course, Dr. Milbert. Whatever you think is best."

"That's good to hear, Rose. You're fine for now. Make sure to make an appointment on your way out."

"Thank you."

The old man smiled kindly to her as she left his office. His nurse smiled equally kindly to her as she walked over to the desk.

"I need to make an appointment for next month."

"Alright, dear. When are you free?"

"Mornings."

"Alright. How is the twentieth at nine o'clock?"

"That's fine."

"Alright. How far along are you?"

"Three months." As the words came out, Rose paled. The realization hit her like a ton of bricks. Three months. It had been only a little over a month since she had been with Jack. That could only mean one thing…

"Oh my God."

"Mrs. Dawson, are you alright."

"Oh…yes, I'm fine. I just remembered something I forgot to do."

The kind nurse simply shrugged her shoulders and continued to finish setting the appointment up for Rose. As soon as she was finished, Rose practically ran out the door.

Oh God, oh God, oh God. This couldn't be happening to her. Not now. Not when she had already lost Jack. This was too much for her to handle. It was bad enough that she was going to have to raise a child on her own. But everything was completely different now that her child was the product of Cal and Rose's dysfunctional relationship. One could hardly call it a relationship. Why did life have to be so unfair? She had finally found the love of her life, only to have him be stolen from her several days later. She had had some consolation by having Jack's child, but now that was stolen from her as well.

"I must say Jack, your work is astounding! Can I take these from you right now? I could have in them up in the gallery first thing tomorrow morning. What you say, Jack?"

"I reckon that's a wonderful idea."

Mr. Harper gave Jack a hearty slap on the back.

"Best news I've heard in ages, Jack. Trust me, you and I will make a great team! You'll be reeling in the money in no time!"

"I can't wait, Mr. Harper."

"Come on now Jack. Call me Bill."

"Well then I guess I'll see you first thing tomorrow morning, Bill."

"Yes you will."

After shaking hands, Jack and Bill parted ways. As Jack walked back to his room, he couldn't believe his good fortune. Talk about being in the right place at the right time. Or maybe it was just fate? He wasn't sure if he even believed in fate. In fact, he didn't really know much about himself at all.

Tommy really hadn't been much help. He could only clarify bits and pieces of the images that Jack constantly saw. And Tommy knew next to nothing about his past. All he really knew was that he was from Chippewa Falls, Wisconsin. Well, at least it was a place to start. He had to have some family or friends there that could help him.

Jack looked back down into his portfolio and his eyes grazed the drawings of the woman. He smiled as he remembered the way Bill's eyes had lit up at the sight of those drawings. He had had to tell Bill that those were not for sale. For some reason, he couldn't bear to part with them. He felt that there was some deep connection with this woman that he couldn't explain and couldn't put a name to. Those drawings were the only thing he had that kept that connection alive.