"Dammit!" cried Rose as she rushed over to Betty again, the wheels of her chair creaking and shuffling over the dirt-ridden floor.
"Oh dear God Betty!" she panted. "What's the matter dearie?" Betty spoke firmly. "Calm down sweets, it'll be okay." She chortled.
"No, Betty, I need you to do me a favor alright?" she queried, not waiting for Betty's answer "I need you to change my name to Rose Dawson, got it? Dawson. D-A-W-S-O-N. This is excruciatingly important to me Betty." Rose looked pained with fear of refusal.
"Of course love, I won't even ask, I know it's that important to ye." With a sigh of relief, Rose sank back into bed, praying that tomorrow Jack would be awake, and they would spend the day gazing at the shoreline and planning their trip to go to the roller coaster and ride on a horse with legs on either side for the first time. Rose was pleased at how she was beginning to loosen up. Jack had taught her to trust. Now the simplest things that would have driven her crazy just seemed so silly.
Her mother used to complain to her daily about the cheap spices in the tea and how they were trying to cheat her out of her money by not giving her a full teaspoon of sugar. Why did it matter? Who really cared? All Rose cared about was Jack. She knew that, and she wanted that. She embraced her newfound happy go lucky attitude and dozed off, warm in her bed with the promise of tomorrow looming in the air.
Jack rubbed his eyes sleepily and brushed the hair out of his eyes. He rubbed the bristly beard beginning to sprout from his chin from days of not shaving. Oh god, where is Rose? He sank back into the covers with his hands over his eyes, thinking of how today he was feeling better. Today was a good day, and today he would find Rose. He loved just saying her name,
Rose made him feel like he was someone. Before he had met her, he was barely roughing it out, living on the streets and never knowing what would happen next, and he loved that. But now with her it was different, he knew that wasn't going to happen anymore and he welcomed it. It was a new lifestyle, and a new beginning and he couldn't wait.
Just as he was about to try and get up from bed, he spotted a fiery red curl blowing in the breeze coming in from the window. It was the exact same color as Rose's hair he thought. He groaned and longed to hold her close to him. The curl began to bob up and down and it appeared as if the woman was walking. Emerging just outside the curtain of his bed she appeared.
It was Rose.