Jack was still sound asleep when Rose slipped out of bed. With a groan he grabbed her pillow and hugged it to his chest. She lightly brushed her hand across his face. His breathing was deep and even. Hair covered his eyes. A smile played about his lips. She couldn't see any of it, but she knew exactly how he looked. "I love you," she whispered into his ear. The smiled widened. He buried his face in her pillow. "Rose Petal…."

The sun was just beginning to rise as she stepped outside. She hurried down the hill and across the beach. The sound of the waves filled her ears. Unable to stop herself she ran into the water, arms outstretched and head thrown back.

She was shivering when she crawled back into bed. The water had been warm, but the brisk early morning wind had left her chilled. She lifted Jack's arm and slipped herself under it. He pulled her closer. "Where'd you go?" he murmured, nuzzling her neck. "Why's your hair—" He opened his eyes, suddenly alert. "Did you go swimming alone again?" She kept her back to him. "Rose?" He flicked his tongue across her neck. "You don't taste like that unless you've been in the ocean," he said.

She sat up. Her wet curls hung limply around her face. "I went swimming alone."

"Rose, you know you shouldn't do that," he said. He put an arm around her shoulders. "Why didn't you wake me?"

She laid her hand on his cheek. "You should have seen yourself sleeping." He smiled sadly. You should see it. "That's not the point. I don't like you going out alone, especially not into the ocean." He took her hand. "Anything could happen. You'd never-"

"See it coming? I know that. But I would hear it coming."

"Might not," he said frowning. "You might not even know what hit you until it was too late."

"Jack, I'll be fine. You can't be with me every minute, and you shouldn't have to be. I like doing things for myself. I can do things for myself."

"I know you can. I would never say you can't. You're—" He sighed. "You're the strongest person I've ever known," he said softly. "The way you handle things…I couldn't do it."

"Yes, you could."

"No." He cupped her cheek. "Not being able to see you, able to draw, able to…I don't know how you do it sometimes." He laughed quietly. "You learned how to knit blind. I can't knit with sight."

"It isn't that difficult. Most things aren't anymore. It's been seven years; I've gotten rather good at living with it."

He squeezed her shoulder. "You've gotten very good at living with it, but—"

"But Little Rose can't go out by herself?" she said drily.

"Don't say it like that. Don't make it sound like I don't want you to do things on your own. You know I do. I just don't want anything happening to you."

"You can't always be there to save me, Jack."

He didn't answer. He just placed a soft kiss on her cheek and climbed out of the bed.

…..

Eva and Lily were already dressed and sitting at the table when Dylan stumbled into the kitchen. He flopped into an empty chair. Flashing Eva a quick grin he grabbed the pitcher of orange juice and poured himself a glass. Eva returned the grin. "And what are you doing up so late?" she teased.

"Late?" he said. "It's still early. In fact, it isn't even day, and that," he added, pointing toward the window. "That is not the sun. It is some meteor that the sun exhales."

"Does that mean one of us is going to Mantua?" Lily said drily. "I thought that was a Juliet line."

Dylan rolled his eyes. "It is. I borrowed it for my purposes."

"I wouldn't say yon grey is not the morning's eye," Eva said. "I'm pretty sure it's the sun. It is going on 9:30 after all." Just then her stomach rumbled. "Otherwise known as breakfast time."

"Finally," Lily said. She shot Dylan a look. "We've been waiting for you."

"There are other people in this house too, you know," he said, standing up. He moved over to the counter and began helping her slice bread for toast. "Not waiting for them?"

"Mom's asleep. I don't know where Dad is. He was gone when I woke up."

"That's strange."

Jack was actually on his way back home by then. He walked slowly, making a note of everything he saw. It was a different city from the one he had fallen in love with all those years ago. It wasn't even the same place he had brought Rose to during their first summer together or the time they came back with the children or the time after Rose—He pushed the memory aside. He shoved his hands in his pockets and quickened his pace. "You couldn't do anything," he said. "Not anything more than what you did. She's fine now."

As he waited at the corner of the light to change he tried not to watch the family across the street. It was a mother, father, and two little boys. The parents didn't look much older than he and Rose had been when Lily was born. They were standing next to a truck piled high with household items. Their clothes had the too neat appearance that comes with trying not to look poor. "It isn't the same place at all," he murmured as the light changed. "Isn't the same world anymore." He caught the eye of the children as he passed. The parents were off the side, talking in whispers. Without saying a word Jack reached into his pocket and pulled out everything he had. The older of the two boys stared at him in shock as he handed him a ten dollar bill. Without a word, Jack turned and walked away.

…

"Sounds like he's back," Eva said.

A moment later, Jack walked into the kitchen. His eyes lit up when he saw them. "Breakfast?" he said, sitting down next to Lily. "You didn't make this did you?"

"Are you trying to say something about my cooking?" Lily asked.

"Maybe something nice," Dylan said.

"Oh," Lily said, suddenly deflated.

Jack shook his head, grinning. "I've missed you two." He turned to Eva. "They were doing this before she could talk."

"That doesn't surprise me." She gazed at Dylan with love-filled eyes. "He likes to tease."

"Just like his father," Rose said. She bent down and hugged Jack from behind. "I never tease," Jack said, kissing her.

"And I've never called you annoying either," Rose said, taking the empty chair next to him. "That's not true," he said. "You called me annoying the morning after you met me."

"And you were."

"I just asked a question."

"An intrusive and rude question."

"You only think that because you didn't like the answer."

Lily leaned closer to Eva. "See what we were talking about? See how often they do this?"

"I like it," Eva whispered back. "Do you know what they're talking about?"

"No-one ever knows what they're talking about," Dylan said.

"I believe the children are discussing us again," Rose said.

"You just might be right," Jack said, feigning ignorance. "They do seem to find us endlessly fascinating. I wonder why that is?"

Rose laid her hand over his. "I don't know."

He slipped his fingers through hers. "It doesn't matter," he said, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. This morning, that is.

"It doesn't?" she asked. I'm sorry.

He ran his thumb over her knuckles. "It doesn't." So am I.

"And what you all doing today?" Rose said, forcing herself to turn away from Jack. Even without her sight she was still mesmerized by his gaze. There were times when she thought it was even worse than before. When she had her sight she had always been so lost in his eyes it was a miracle, she would think, that she didn't drown, but now she felt his eyes on her in a whole new way.

"I'm taking them to a Party meeting," Lily said.

"When did we agree to that?" Dylan asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Eva did before you got up," Lily replied.

Eva nodded. "I did."

Dylan began. "But you're not a—"

"I know. But I like to observe."

Dylan shrugged. "All right then."

That afternoon while the three of them were learning about orange picker strikes, Jack and Rose enjoyed some quiet time alone. They lay on the beach. Rose's head was on his chest, his arms were wrapped around her. The waves stopped short of touching their bare feet. "This is nice," Rose said, closing her eyes. The sun was warm on her face. "We should start sleeping outside again."

"There's an idea."

"I mean it. Don't you remember how much fun it was?"

"Well, I do remember it being fun," he said mischievously. "But I'm not sure the great outdoors had much to do with it."

Rose shot up. "Jack Dawson!" she said in mock horror.

Laughing, he pulled her back down. "You brought it up," he said, kissing her temple. She settled back into his arms. "You are rude and uncouth and presumptuous," she said, punctuating each word with a kiss on his neck.

"I thought that's why you married me."

…

Rose could tell Jack was asleep from the sound of his breathing. Carefully, so as not to wake him, she slid out of his arms. Standing up, she brushed sand from her dress. She was about to take a step when a hand closed around her ankle. She froze. "Jack?"

"What if it hadn't been?" He stood up. "See? Something could happen."

"Fine. You're right. Can we not discuss it anymore?" She held out her hand. "Please?"

They hadn't planned to go swimming, neither of them was even dressed for it, but a few minutes into their walk found themselves moving closer and closer to the water. "We'll be up to our knees soon if we keep this up," Jack said.

"Or worse."

Without warning Rose dropped his hand and began to run into the water. "Rose!" he yelled. He followed closely on her heels. It only took a few seconds for the water to reach his waist. His hand was just inches from her arm. He could grab her if he needed to.

And then suddenly, he couldn't.

Jack had been too busy watching Rose to notice the wall of water heading straight for them. Her name was all he had time to say before it hit. Rose turned around, confused. "Ja—" The rest of her words were cut off as she was swept under. Jack fought his way to the top, but she was gone. "Rose!" he called as another, smaller wave crashed into him. Salt water filled his mouth. "Rose!" His eyes burned. "Rose!"

"Jack!" Her voice sounded like it was coming through a tunnel. "Jack, where are you!" In the distance he could see her arms flailing. Hair covered her face. Spitting water, she pushed it aside. She was shaking; her heart pounded in her chest. Where was he? She moved her arms in a wide circle hoping her hand would land in his. "Jack!" She couldn't hear anything but the water. She couldn't feel anything else either. The water was up to her breasts; when had she gone out that far? The wave must have swept me out. And then the sickening realization that Jack could be anywhere, that he could be trapped underwater even, set in. "Jack!" she screamed as she began to run. She flailed her arms wildly. "Jack!"

Jack ran toward her. "Stay still, Rose!" he called. "It's okay!" Thunder rumbled overhead. Suddenly the bright, sunny day was replaced by a black sky. The water began to churn around him. He could see another wave building. "Rose! Come to my voice!" he yelled. He flew through the water. The distance between them was closing. Almost there—

And then the wave hit.

The next thing Jack knew he was on the beach, flat on his back. Breathing hurt. His mouth tasted like a box of salt had been dumped down his throat. Hot tears filled his eyes. He scrambled to his feet. "Rose?" he called. A hard rain had begun to fall. Lightning streaked across the sky. He began to run down the beach. "Rose!"

…

Cal didn't stop to think about what he was doing before he plunged into the water. The figure in the distance was so small he couldn't tell anything about it except that it was a person. And it wasn't moving. He could have easily ignored it, at least that's what he told himself as he swam toward the figure, but he didn't quite believe that deep down. There was something pulling him out there; whoever it was, it could have been Eva. I do have a conscience after all, he thought. Lovely.

Rose was limp as he tossed her over his shoulder. The rain was falling in sheets. He had to fight to get back to the beach. Once there, he collapsed, laying Rose on her back. Matted red curls framed her pale face. Her eyes were closed. He stared at her for a moment, too shocked to do anything else. Her eyelids fluttered. She began to cough weakly. He put an arm behind her back and shifted her into a sitting position. Her coughing grew louder. She leaned forward, gasping for breath. "Jack?" she said, reaching out for him.

"Rose!"

Cal watched, dumbfounded, as Jack dropped to his knees in front of Rose. He gathered her into his arms. She clutched his shirt and pressed her face into his chest. "I couldn't find you," she said. "You were right. I can't—"

"Sshh." Slowly Jack began to rock them back and forth. Gradually her shaking subsided. "I should've been holding onto you," he said. "I wasn't watching the water." Neither of them noticed the water pouring from the sky. "And I didn't hear it," she said, forcing out a laugh. He kissed her forehead. "Doesn't matter."

It wasn't until he was helping Rose to her feet that Jack noticed Cal. He did a quick double take. But he pushed his confusion aside. Rose was what mattered at that moment. "C'mon, Petal," he said, putting his arm around her. "Let's get you inside where it's dry." She nodded. "Okay." Jack shot a glance at Cal over her head. Are you coming? he asked silently.

Jack ignored Cal on the walk back to house. Rose didn't even seem to realize anyone else was with them. The storm was too loud for her to hear his footsteps. Once they were inside Jack whisked her off to their room, sending Cal a silent command to stay where he was.

Cal scowled at the back of Jack's head as he disappeared through the door that led to the hallway. Who did he think he was looking at him like that? It isn't as though he's—Oh. He is. The reversal in their roles left Cal feeling dizzy. Here he was standing in house where Jack lived, which, from the looks of it, was not anything to be ashamed of even by pre-Depression standards. Where did he get the money? Cal wondered. And how does he still have it?

"Paintings."

Cal spun around. "What?"

Jack stood in the doorway. "Where the money came from," he said. "We collected the geniuses of the twenties long before anyone else did."

"You can't be serious." Cal pointed at the painting above the fireplace. "That. You got money from that?"

"It's a Surrealist piece."

"A what?"

"What do you do with your time?" Jack asked incredulously. "How did you get through the last decade without hearing about Surrealism?" He had wondered more than once what would happen if he and Cal ever met again, but a debate about art was never what he pictured happening. But there was no need to start a fight with him. He hadn't done anything. And if Eva marries Dylan they would likely see each other again. "It doesn't matter," he said. "I don't know why I'm surprised." Before Cal could respond he continued, "Thanks for helping her." Cal shrugged though what he really wanted to do was squirm. There was something about Jack's gratitude that unnerved him. It was so genuine; he didn't care who had helped Rose, just that someone had. "I should've been holding on to her," Jack said, more to himself than to Cal.

"She isn't a child, you know," Cal replied.

"I know, but she—"

"Jack?" Rose appeared in the doorway. Her hair was pulled back. She wore a soft, simple green dress and no shoes. A silver ring that looked suspiciously like the curled up end of a spoon shone on her left hand.

"Right here, Rose Petal," Jack said, turning toward her and holding out his hand.

Smiling, she took it. "I thought I heard you talking to someone, but it didn't sound like any of the children."

What does she mean? Cal thought. Can't she see me standing here?

"I was," Jack said. "I didn't want to go through it all out in the storm, but you know I didn't pull you out of the water—"

"You didn't?" she asked, surprised.

Now Cal was really confused. She looked right at me! But she had also called him Jack, something which he had chalked up to a hysterical reaction. It wasn't like he and Jack could be mistaken for one another under ordinary circumstances.

"I didn't," Jack said. "Um, Eva's father did."

It took Rose a moment to fully process the meaning of his words. Her eyes widened. "Is he still here?" she gasped.

"Yeah, actually," Jack said. "He came back with us." Without thinking he pulled her closer.

"I'm standing right here," Cal said. "She can see me just fine."

Rose's look of surprise became a hard glare. "Actually," she said coldly, "I can't see you. Or anything else."

"Oh." Now it all made sense. Of course she couldn't see. All the signs were there; he just hadn't put them together. "I'm sorry," he said quietly.

Rose's face softened. "It's alright. I—I forget some people have to be told. Why are you here?"

"I—well, I'm here about Eva." Seeing Jack's eyes narrow he quickly added, "To support her. Her mother and I came out here to tell her that. We, or rather I should say I wasn't very receptive to the news about her marrying your son."

"Why doesn't that surprise me?" Jack said drily.

"You could make this easy," Cal said.

"We could," Rose said.

"We could do a lot of things," Jack added.

"We already do a lot of things," Rose said. "I'd like to do just a few things."

"And those are?" Jack asked.

"Tea first."

Cal couldn't believe what was happening. He sat across the table from Jack and Rose, a steaming cup of tea in front of him and a piece of toast next to it. "You can eat it," Rose said. "I'm all out of strychnine."

"We are?" Jack said, feigning shock. "We just had a whole bottle."

"Lily used it all up on those orange grove owners."

"She would."

"What are you talking about?" Cal asked.

Jack laughed. "Not really anything," he said.

"And everything," Rose added.

Cal shook his head. "I think you've both gone insane. Drinking too much bathtub gin, are you?"

"Well, now we know what you've been doing," Rose said.

"Is it that obvious?" Cal asked, before he could stop himself.

And suddenly the layer of tension between the three of them thinned until it was almost gone. There was something about Cal that was almost human, or at least, that was the best word Jack could come up for it. He's different. He's still awful, but he's different.

"I noticed it too," Rose said, as if she could hear his thought. "Isn't it strange."

"Yeah, it is," Jack said. "We should ask him about it."

"I think he'll tell us what he wants us to know."

Cal stared at them. "You two don't talk to other people very often do you?" Not waiting for answer he added, "Of course you don't. Don't even say it. Why would you?"

"We've spoken to Eva," Rose said.

"You have?" Cal said, leaning forward.

Rose nodded. "She's lovely. You really should try talking to her more. I think you would like what you found. Or you should, if you don't already."

"I—" Cal began. He paused as the sound of a door slamming filled the kitchen.

"Lily!" Dylan yelled. "Don't take your rage at the bourgeoisie out on the door!" Cal froze as Eva's voice joined the medley. "Well, it was infuriating." He had not anticipated this when he went out for a walk. In fact, neither he nor Deidre had quite worked out when or how they would go about seeing Eva. And it looked like they never would because the footsteps coming toward the kitchen were getting louder.