Chapter Nineteen

November 8th, 1913
New York City, New York

Jack sleepily rolled out bed that morning, but not without pecking the photo of Rose on the wall first. He sat on the edge of his bed and yawned, turning his face upwards into the rays streaking through his dirty window that had a great view of another warehouse roof. He raked his hands through his hair before deciding to get ready for the day. He washed his face in the basin and staggered into some black slacks, opting for a light blue button up that day. He laced his boots up and lit a cigarette, taking a moment to sit on his windowsill and wonder inside his mind.

He lowered his eyes to his cigarette, watching the hazy ribbon drift into the sky that was becoming rapidly brighter as the sun rose. Jack let out a sigh, tilting his head back against the wood panelling of the wall, Another year around the sun. Growin' older every second... I can't let it slip past me anymore. Rose, I promise you, I'm gonna bounce back. I'm going to find some part of life worth holding on to. And I promise I won't let go.

Jack finished his cigarette and flicked it from his hands, leaning forward to watch it's descent down the side of the building. He sat there for another few moments, a chilly breeze brushing past him. Eventually, he got down and closed the window, deciding to head downstairs for the day. He clunked his boots down the steps carelessly, rolling his sleeve despite the fact the studio grew colder as he descended. When he made it to the base of the stairs, he was greatly startled.

"Happy birthday, Jack!" Iris and Frenchie yelled, throwing their arms up from where they waited at the communal table. Jack's face grew red and he straightened up, looking between both his friends absolutely astounded. Finally, he sheepishly rubbed the nape of his neck and grinned.

"Aw, shucks... you guys remembered my birthday?"

"How could I forget!" Iris grinned, waving him over, "Come here, come here! We've got gifts for you."

"Oh, no, you shouldn't have..." Jack shook his head, crossing to them despite his protests, "Guys, you didn't have to do anything for me, really. I've been an ass this entire week."

"Pish-posh," Frenchie scoffed.

"Fooey," Iris joined in, putting her hands on her hips, "Jack, we care for you! We want you to know we're happy about the day the earth was given you! Our one and only!"

Jack's entire face began to eminate with heat. Frenchie popped a cork to a champagne bottle and poured three flute glasses up, handing one to Jack, "Isn't it early to be celebrating?"

"This entire day is for you, brother," Frenchie held his glass up, "We are not painting or mixing a single thing today. And tomorrow, we will get these paintings to the museum. I've hired a cart and driver to help us deliver them in two trips. But, there is one thing I need to ask you about the art show after we all have our celebratory drink."

The three of them clanged glasses and Jack drank the fizzy alcohol swiftly, "So," He licked his lips, "what do you need to ask me?"

"Follow me," Frenchie gestured and began around the staircase, towards the backroom. He paused, however, and turned to face the wall against the stairs. Jack glanced to Iris and slowly trailed after Frenchie. He stopped when he saw Rose's eyes pierce him. He shifted his feet for a moment and averted eye contact, glancing towards Frenchie instead. Frenchie stared at the painting for a moment more before taking in a curt breath, "Jack, you are richly talented. I'd say... even more so than me. Classical training cannot capture the raw energy that flows out of you onto a canvas or a piece of paper," Frenchie turned to Jack, holding his flute glass against his chest, "I wanted to ask you if you wanted to make this our fourteenth piece to show in the museum this weekend?"

A silence filled the space between them. Jack lowered the flute glass and now looked at the painting, feeling something in his stomach cramp. He looked down at the dirty concrete floors and searched his mind for any kind of reasoning. Jack gnawed on his lip and slowly looked back to Frenchie. He pursed his lips for the slightest moment before saying, "No."

Frenchie nodded and glanced back to the painting, "I just thought I'd ask..."

...

Rose felt like she could finally breath again after she got off work that early afternoon. She felt realtively awful and was in no mood to deal with a single more customer. Rose untied her apron as she crossed the street away from the diner, tucking it over the strap of her purse. She undid the pins in her hair, fluffing her curls and sighing as they were allowed to fall down her shoulders. As she walked, she looked at no one. She glanced at nothing. She walked eyes set forward, ready to be back at apartment. A gusty wind picked up for a moment. She noticed dark clouds hanging on the horizon. She smirked to herself as she crossed the street, barely glancing over her shoulder.

The world knows how I'm feeling, She thought bitterly as she fished for her keys in her coat pocket as her apartment complex appeared in the distance, Jack, I thought you were supposed to give me a clue, a sign... anything! I still feel helpless to myself. I feel my mask breaking, I can't keep it up anymore... I shouldn't have to!

Rose sighed, flaring her nostrils as she burst through the front foyer and barrelled down the hall to her apartment, hoping not to get caught by anybody. She whirled through her door, flicking the lock over, and sighed, looking around her gray apartments as the sun was completely overtaken. She huffed, sagging her shoulders as she leaned against the door, I'm sorry, Jack. I shouldn't be nagging you... not on your birthday. You've already done so much for me and yet I selfishly ask for more... Rose finally shrugged out of her coat and hung it on the wrack, carelessly disregarding her purse on the floor. She kicked her heels off and carried them to her bedroom where she changed into a cotton nightgown and pulled a black silk robe on.

She lit several candles in her living room and pulled the drapes back completely, watching the wind become gusty as an impending storm brewed above. Rose seated herself in a chair nearest to the window and simply stared. The grandfather clock ticked persistently. The candles flickered, casting a soft orange glare across Rose. She pressed her knuckles to her lips, sitting in complete silence, absorbed by her thoughts. Eventually, she lowered her hand and gazed towards her dark apartment, her eyes gleaming in the candle light.

"Well... here we are again," She said breathily and uneven, "Another revolution around the sun... and," She heaved a sigh, her chest falling deeply, "it doesn't feel like a single thing has changed. Not a damned thing," Tears sprung to her eyes and she pressed her hand to her forehead, her face becoming pinched. She sputtered to catch her breath for a moment and sunk further into her chair, "Jack, I'm still direction-less. I am flat out lost. I've lead myself to a dead-end, a corner. And... I just don't have the strength to fight it anymore!"

Rose errupted into a sob, pressing her palms to her face. She shook deeply, trembling. She paused, however, when she heard a noise. Rose slowly cocked her head to the window to see rain pelting the pane. A flash of lightening went off, followed by the deep roll of thunder. Rose tilted her head back against the chair's cushion, watching, her breathing shallow.

"I wish so deeply that you were here..." She breathed, "I wish I could touch you one more time. See your smile... I wish I could feel that special way again. The way you used to make me feel..." She smiled despite the tears falling down her cheeks. She sniffled, glancing towards the roof, "I remember when you taught me how to spit like a man..." More tears brimmed her eyes and a lump grew in her throat, "I don't think I ever got the chance to tell you I put that training to use... right into Cal's eye."

Rose came to her feet now, crossing to the window sill, gently bringing her hand up to the foggy glass, "It's the little things, Jack. The things you forget to share with people that become the most important once it's all said and done. Who was your best friend growing up? How did you find art? What was your relationship with your parents like? I'm teaming with so many questions, I'm flooded with so many answers. I couldn't write you enough letters to convey what the pit of my anxiety is. I so desperately crave to know what that feeling I felt was. How do I achieve it again? Will I ever?"

Rose pressed her head to the cool glass, feeling the vibration of the rain thump against the pane. She kept her eyes downcast, watching the droplets sink towards the bottom of the sill, "Can I not let Tim in because he's not you?" She gnawed on her lip for a moment, "Or am I afraid to love and lose again?"

Rose lifted her eyes as a car rolled by on the street, kicking up a wave of water gathering in the gutters. Her breath fogged the glass up and she turned away from it, looking across the room at the dancing shadows of her books, "You'd think I'd have myself put back together by this point, huh? I'm caught in all these ruminations... what could I have done differently?" She scoffed at herself and slowly wandered to the couch, stretching out across it and tucking a pillow under her head, "I like to think if you were in my position, you'd be doing a lot better. You know how to survive, Jack. I'd like to think you would have moved on beyond this, not allowed yourself to wallow. I'd like to think you'd be on the pursuit of happiness again."

Rose watched the light flicker on the ceiling as another crack of thunder rang out. She shifted her head on the pillow, a curl falling across her collarbone, "Happy birthday, Jack..." She sighed and closed her eyes.

...

Frenchie, Iris, and Jack decided to stay in that chilly rainy evening and drink. The radio was cranked on quietly as the three sat together at the communal table, several bottles cluttered around them. Iris had just finished telling a story about accidentally knocking one of her father's statues over, throwing the trio into howling laughter.

"Now, I know we're celebrating your birthday," Frenchie said, pointedly look at Jack, "But can we all just have a drink for the upcoming art show? Here's to us, Jack. We did it! We pulled it off."

Jack grinned and clanked his bottle to Frenchie's, "To art."

"To art!" Iris joined in.

After taking a good chug, Frenchie snapped his fingers, looking towards Jack, "Speaking of art show. I got you another birthday present," Frenchie, standing up and crossing to his workspace cabinets. Drunkenly, Jack peered over his shoulder towards Frenchie, then looked to Iris, who only grinned in response. Frenchie brought back a white cardboard box, placing it infront of Jack and knocking some empty bottles over.

"What's this?" Jack asked, only staring at the box.

"Well, the thing with birthday presents is you open them and find out," Frenchie laughed.

Jack smirked at him reached for the top, pulling it off. He paused when saw black garments laying in the box in front of him. Jack slowly stood now and pulled the sleek black overcoat out, followed by a finely pressed black button up and new slacks. It was a fairly nice tuxedo.

"I want you to look sharp for our presentation," Frenchie said, clasping his hands together, "You deserve to look nothing but the best."

Jack lowered the garments back onto the tissue paper and put his hands on hips, smiling, "Thank you, Frenchie. That really means a lot."

"Yeah, so now people will think you're the artist," Iris broke up into giggles, her face fairly red as she continued to drink. Frenchie shot his sister a look. Jack snorted.

"You know, I just gotta say," Jack placed his hand on his overcoat in the box and looked between his friends, "I think things are startin' to look up for me, guys."