Chapter Forty-Six

February 14th, 1914
New York City, New York

Jack was the first one awake as the early morning light began to bleed into the bedroom. Rose was sleeping with her back to Jack, her shoulders rising and falling gently. Slowly, silently, Jack untangled himself from the bedsheets, being sure to creep across the floorboards with ease. He closed the door behind him and went down the kitchen, cluttering the counters in many different ingredients. He pulled some pans down and then a pot, filling that with water. Once the water was bubbling at the surface, he dropped a few eggs in and sealed the top on. He then went about getting a pan hot and dropped a slab of butter in. He whisked together some eggs in a glass bowl and dipped the bread into it, throwing it into the sizzling pan. While that cooked, Jack found a tray in a cupboard and began arranging a platter of berries on a small porcelain dish. The sopping wet bread was quick to fry and Jack flipped it with ease, humming to himself as he raked his hair from his eyes and checked the eggs beneath the rumbling surface of the water.

Jack arranged the french toast on another dish, sprinkling some powder sugar over the top. He set it on the tray beside the heaping plate of blueberries and raspberries. He poured a big glass of orange juice and set it on the tray. The eggs seemed ready to him and precariously, in full concentration, he hunched over the sink and gingerly peeled the shells off the hard boiled eggs. He took several moments rearranging the tray back and forth, trying to get total artistic perfection. He grinned, setting his hands on his hips.

Stealthily, Jack climbed the stairs again with the tray in his hands. He gently eased the bedroom door open to see she was still asleep, her arm now slung across where Jack was lying before. Slowly, Jack appraoched his side of the bed, grinning down on the angel tangled up in the bed sheets. He couldn't help but think about how much he adored her. How much she meant to him. And he knew he would never be able to clearly speak how he felt in the proper words. So he was determined to show her. Jack wanted to make sure Rose knew all the grief, all the pain, all the sorrow, it had been worth it if it meant they had the luck of crossing paths again. In the end, he believed, their quiet suffering, their desperate attempts to heal the hurt, had drawn them back together so they could be allowed to mend the pain together.

Jack eased himself on to the bed and set the tray just out of reach of her fingertips. He watched her a few moments more, her porcelain skin glowing, her red curls like a fire reaching around her. Jack licked his lips slowly and sang out gently, "Happy birthday to you... Happy birthday to you," Slowly, Rose's eyelids began to flutter and her green eyes opened. She seemed slightly confused at first and it was enough to make Jack chuckle, "Happy birthday, dear Rose... Happy birthday to you," He finished, his grin stretching across his face, as he stared down on Rose, who was still rousing from her sleep.

"Oh, Jack..." Rose propped herself up on her elbow, the lace of her nightgown tickling her skin. She raked her messy hair back from her face and looked to the tray sitting before her. Finally, she smiled and looked at him, softly saying, "Thank you," She reached out towards him, gently grazing his arm and ruffling his white undershirt.

"Eat up," Jack told her, handing the berries out. She sat up criss-cross in bed now, accepting the plate into her hand, "This is only just the beginning of things."

...

After Jack and Rose shared the breakfast tray together, they went about getting ready. Jack was insistent that Rose had a total care-free day and left everything to him. He didn't even allow her to make the bed. She grinned at the man in the reflection of her vanity as she did her face for the day. She decided to wear her hair in a bun and chose a green satin dress. She shimmied out of her nightgown and carelessly let it crumple to the floor. She then crossed the room to where her dress was laid out on the bed. She paused, however, when she passed her reflection in the body-length mirror.

Rose stopped and turned towards herself, simply staring. Jack looked up from lacing his boots. Rose turned a few steps, cocking her head to the side, "What is it?" Jack asked, straightening up.

Rose looked to Jack, "I'm starting to show, that's all. I was just looking."

Jack stood and crossed behind Rose, wrapping his arms around her stomach and lacing his fingers together. Tenderly, she set her hands atop his and stared at his reflection in the mirror as he gently kissed her neck, "That's a good thing, right?"

"Yes," Rose nodded, "because that means there really is a baby in there and I'm not crazy after all."

Jack laughed, pressing his lips to Rose's shoulder, "You were never crazy to begin with."

"I thought of a girl's name last night when I was writing," Rose told him, staring at their hands in the mirror.

"Really?" Jack turned to look at Rose directly, arching his eyebrows, "Let's hear it."

"What about... Violet?" Rose asked.

"Violet Dawson," Jack said. After a moment, he smiled and looked at Rose, "Yeah, I like that a lot. So, if we have a girl, we'll call her Violet. If we have a boy, we'll call him James."

"Maybe," Rose grinned, her green eyes shimmering in the morning light, "We could always hear a name we like better."

"Guess we'll see, right?" Jack replied before leaning in and pressing his lips to her's.

...

Soon enough, Jack and Rose were on the sidewalk heading into New York City. Many of the window fronts had been painted in reds, whites, and pinks. Women were dressed in bright colors that day, the men looking sharper than normal. It seemed Valentine's Day provoked a different kind of feeling for the city.

"Ah, do you smell that?" Jack said, exhaling loudly.

"What, oil fumes?" Rose looked at him, making him burst into rolling chuckles.

"I was going to say it smelled like love, but you're right, that car does smell really bad."

The couple eventually steered off into the true heart of New York City and they entered Central Park to take a late morning stroll while Jack silently brainstormed good places to catch an early lunch. Central Park inspired Rose. She enjoyed the energy and the environment. Something about this patch of nature bordered by skyscrapers was magnificent. She watched the children play. She looked to the nannies and mother's sitting on park benches, chatting while absent mindedly rocking a carriage. A screeching child drew her attention across the path, where she saw a young boy winding through trees to avoid being tagged by his playmate.

"I guess this will be me soon enough," Rose said, still looking around at her surroundings, "Bringing the child here to blow off some steam while I get quality reading time in."

Jack grinned at the thought, "Imagine all the skinned-knees you're in for."

"Well, I suppose that's one thing to consider," Rose giggled, glancing at Jack, "Especially if James is anything like you..."

"I think we're in for more trouble if Violet is anything like you," Jack nudged her playfully, "By the time she's sixteen, we'll be beating the boys away with sticks."

Jack gestured to a vacant bench, noticing Rose's cheeks were growing flushed. They seated themselves and Rose let out a sigh, crossing her ankles on command, "The hardest part about all of this is waiting," Rose said, brushing a loose curl from her face, "I can't believe we still have half a year before we find out whether we're welcoming a boy or a girl. I want to know now!"

"That's what makes it all the more exciting," Jack grinned, stretching his arm along the back of the bench, "I kind of like that element of surprise. Hey, we could hold a bet to make it all the more fun."

"A bet?" Rose echoed, surpressing a rising laugh. She looked to Jack with arched eyebrows, "Please, elaborate."

"Okay, so," Jack sat up now, turning towards Rose, "I'm gonna bet we're having a girl. If I'm right, I get to choose her middle name. If I'm wrong..." He paused for a moment and pondered, tapping his fingers to the iron arm rest of the bench, "Aha, I got it. If I'm wrong, I'll do all the laundry and grocery shopping for a month after the baby is born. So, Rose, what's your wager?"

Rose grinned, looking at Jack's beaming face in the overhead sunlight, "Alright. I bet we're having a boy. If I'm right, I will get to choose his middle name. And if I'm wrong, I'll pose for five paintings, your choice of what I'm doing."

Instantly, Jack's cheeks grew rosy, "Oh man, I hope it's a girl."

The couple laughed, falling against each other on the bench.

...

Jack took Rose to a small café that was in upper New York, much further than what they typically travelled. It was new and exciting, however. The café was quaint and luckily not too busy due to it being early in the lunch hour still. The floors were a classic black and white tile. The linens were red and white and Rose wondered if it was for Valentine's Day or if it looked like that year-round. After the waitress had handed them menus and disappeared to fetch their drinks, Rose found herself starving as she read all the descriptions. Nearly everything sounded appetizing and never in her life had she found herself so torn over what to choose to eat. Eating in the past had simply just been a fact of life, something she did because she had to. Now, food was beginning to mean everything to her.

When the waitress returned Jack ordered a chicken salad sandwich with potato crisps. The waitress grinned and made note of his request. She then turned politely towards Rose, who was still stewing over what to choose. Oh, what the hell, Rose finally told herself, looking up at the patiently awaiting waitress.

"Can I have a small bowl of tuna salad, a side of potato crisps, a half-portion of salmon with boiled asparagus, a grilled cheese, and two pieces of toast?" The waitress was motionless for a moment, obviously thrown off-guard, but after a beat she fell back into it, scribbling furiously. She double checked the order before she disappeared, collecting their menus.

Jack grinned, placing his elbows on the table, "Hungry?"

"That's an understatement," Rose blushed furiously, "I'm sorry. Everything just sounded so good."

"You have nothing to be sorry for," Jack shook his head, "It doesn't even have to be your birthday, Rose, you can eat anything and as much as you'd like."

"Are you trying to fatten me up?" Rose turned her head coyly at him.

"Nothin' wrong with a little meat on the bones," Jack laughed, almost sheepishly, "Today is your birthday. If you want an excuse to indulge, here it is, my treat."

"Did you see the waitresses face?" Rose snorted as a laugh came up her throat, "She was horrified," Rose laughed more openly now. Even Jack found himself cracking up.

Two waitresses had to deliver their meals. And the other waitress was even more perplexed than her co-worker as she was directed to clutter it all on Rose's half of the table. After they disappeared back into the dining room, Jack and Rose laughed all over again. Rose's mouth was watering as she looked over the sea of dishes in front of her. The fork easily broke the salmon apart and it melted like butter in her mouth. She began helping herself to a scoop of tuna salad while she took a bite off a tenderly boiled stick of asparagus. She multi-tasked as she ate a little bit off every plate she had ordered. Jack watched, his smile never wavering, as he ate his sandwich and potato crisps at a steady rate. Even stuffing her face, she was angelic. Jack felt a surge of love wash over him as he took a sip of his lemonade and continued to observe Rose.

That's my girl, He thought to himself with a big grin.

...

As the afternoon waned on, Jack and Rose found themselves simply walking through New York City, hands clasped. The conversation never tired. It was effortlessly fun and involving. They people watched as they strolled through districts they rarely ventured into. They window shopped, amazed to find woodburners and textile manufacturers nearly in their backyard. It was as if they were visiting New York City for the first time together. They eventually wandered back into known territory as the sky began growing orange. The streets did not die down, however. In fact, more people were coming out as dusk broke over the city. The sound of washing waves reached their ears as they descended a few curt steps, walking out onto the desserted docks that were harboring no boats. Together, Jack and Rose seated themselves at the end of a wide and long dock, staring out towards the endless horizon of water.

"This is where the Carpathia docked," Rose said after an extended silence. She looked to Jack in the next moment, her skin glowing in the setting sun.

"Is it? I don't remember much on that ship," Jack replied, also meeting her eyes, "I don't think I even woke up until May. It's all a little fuzzy, even after all this time. I don't know if I even remember what happened after I lost you on the Titanic."

"Good," Rose looked back out on the sea, watching the white capped waves, "It's better not to remember. So you don't have anything to hold yourself prisoner to. It took me a long time to not dwell on those past events. It wasn't until recently I was even able to have them ungrip me, free me, from their misery."

"I don't want you to be unhappy," Jack said softly, laying his hand over her's on the dock.

"I'm happy, Jack," She whispered, "I'm the happiest I think I've ever been in my entire life," She lowered her eyes for a moment before she willed herself to look to his refreshing blue eyes, "You taught me how to not let go."

Jack's heart was hammering in his chest as his free hand cautiously reached into his pocket, gently crazing the velvet box he had stowed away, "Rose..." He whispered, pressing his forehead against her's. She gripped his arm tenderly, basking in his touch, "Marry me," He said. Rose's eyes shot open and she lifted her head to see Jack holding an open velvet box out towards her, displaying a modest and dainty ring. Rose's breathing hitched in her throat as she cocked her head at him.

"I will," She said, her entire body shaking, "I will marry you, Jack."

Slowly, he lifted the ring from the box and tilted it, allowing the last of the sunlight to bleed over it, "Look," He whispered, grinning at her. Rose leaned in towards the ring, spying an engraving on the inside.

You jump, I jump.