Without breaking eye contact between us, he gently released my palm from his.
It seemed to me that, involuntarily repeating the gesture with which he greeted me on the grand staircase of the Titanic, he returned there with me for a moment to finally restore his memory and resurrect my image in it.
"Do you... remember me, Jack?" I dared to ask, not thinking about how stupid I would look in his eyes if my assumption turned out to be false.
"No," he replied affirmatively, spreading his hands. "Believe me, I would remember if I saw you at least once, even briefly... But today I see you for the first time."
"I'm sorry, I..."
Just an idiot. I don't think I should have continued, he's already figured it out.
"But if suddenly I was once very drunk and somehow offended you..." Jack added worriedly.
"Nothing like that," I immediately reassured. "I just mistook you for another person. And now I'm embarrassed."
He must already think I'm crazy.
"Oh, never mind, I'm often confused with someone else," Jack said with a smile. "But I still hope that person didn't do anything wrong."
"No, the opposite!".
"I don't want to cause bad associations."
"This man was wonderful."
Jack sighed and after a short silent pause, a little upset, added:
"Now I'm even sorry that I'm not him."
It sounded ironic. Although maybe you really are different.
"But I am me, and if you're interested in getting to know me better, then we could..." he broke off the sentence to get a vibrating phone out of his pocket. "Sorry."
I started looking at the phone with genuine interest, as if a girl from 1912 had woken up in me, and I saw this amazing thing for the first time in my life. And then I noticed how he frowned at me.
"Is something wrong?" He jokingly covered the phone with his palm. "Why is everyone so afraid of my phone?"
I also had to have a phone somewhere in my purse, which I left at the restaurant... with mother. This will be the best way to make sure that my life is not fake.
"I completely forgot I was supposed to be by the pool," Jack bit his lip, "18 angry messages."
"Damn, did I keep you?"
"No, what are you? I had a great time, if you don't take into account the reason for our acquaintance. You made me nervous... and I forgot to tie my shoelaces." He bent down to fix it.
"And you untied them to...?"
"Jump after you," Jack says calmly. "But, fortunately, everything is fine. You are safe and today I will only swim in the pool."
"I am so grateful to you. I'm sorry for what you've been through. In general, for everything."
I wanted to hug him and never let him go again, but tears welled up in my eyes, like a guilty child.
If I start crying, he'll get angry.
"Rose, come on, you have nothing to apologize for!"
"What can I do for you?"
"Uh," he was a little confused, "well, we can agree that you will owe me alcohol."
And I was ready to say yes, but he interrupted me:
"Although you can't buy it yet, can you?"
This is a great way to find out a girl's age.
I shook my head. This problem could easily be solved with money, but I knew that he didn't really need anything from me.
"Look, just ice cream will be enough for me," Jack smiled. "Where should I take you?"
"I think you should hurry up to the one who is waiting by the pool. 18 messages are no joke."
"Hey, I can't leave you! You almost jumped into the ocean in front of my eyes. I feel a little responsible for you now."
"I feel much better already. Thank you."
"This ship is a real small town, you can get lost here and there are also "bad areas" here," he urged, kindly extending his elbow to me.
And, waiting for me to take his elbow, he led me along.
"I need to go back to my room. There is an elevator inside and I can safely climb."
"Well. The pool is also higher."
And I had nothing else to argue with. There were several pools on the ship, and almost all of them were on the 15th deck. Besides, I didn't want to leave Jack so soon myself.
"Bad areas?" I asked again as we walked.
"Yes, stay away from the bars on the lower decks. I recently became a participant in a mass brawl."
"Nightmare!"
"Well... I was the cause of this fight," he admitted, laughing.
"What a bad boy!" I am outraged in jest. "And maybe you make these areas bad?"
"Who knows."
We walked through a spacious, well-lit lobby, past the largest multi-level restaurant on the ship's territory. From there came a whole symphony of sounds — music, people's voices, the clink of dishes, the creak of chairs on the tiled floor; and, of course, the aromas of a variety of food, from Japanese to Mexican cuisines. It was surprisingly lively inside the ship. And just a few minutes ago it seemed to me that there was no one here but us.
And I would prefer it to be so.
My attention was attracted by a bulky chandelier that occupied several floors and hung in the center of the dining room. It reminded me of a pop-up red jellyfish that tried to escape from this crowded place, but only beat its head against the glossy ceiling. A very sad association, but the sensations were familiar to me.
"I wonder how much they spent on it?" Jack asked, after noticing with what interest I was looking at the chandelier.
I shrugged, still thinking about the Titanic and other Rose. But who am I here? Who am I in this vast ocean of people called society?
And while I was trying to control my thoughts, clutching Jack's sleeve tightly, he turned to the elevators, choosing the one where there was no queue to make me feel more comfortable. I really didn't want to see anyone else, but when we found ourselves alone with Jack, locked in a metal box that worked without an elevator operator, which would have surprised Rose from 1912, I suddenly thought that there was definitely not enough elevator operator here. In other words, I thought that if in the past, running away from Lovejoy, we would have been alone in this elevator, where it would have been just as hot, cramped and safe, what would we do?
"Which floor do you want to go to?" he asked, looking at me.
"Seventeenth," I muttered softly, feeling a rush of heat to my cheeks.
I shouldn't think about it! Why haven't I had such indecent thoughts before?
Still, he's damn attractive in those loose jeans and an unbuttoned shirt worn over a T-shirt.
Noticing how I was looking at him, Jack smiled, crossed his arms in embarrassment and tried to think of a topic for conversation.
"I'm from Chippewa Falls, Wisconsin," he said after a moment's thought.
Surprisingly, I knew this fact about him. Although the place still sounded unfamiliar and... sexy.
"And where are you from?"
I blushed even more and pressed myself harder into the corner of the elevator, as if this way the distance between us could increase.
"Philadelphia."
"I've never been there."
"I've never been to Chippewa Falls."
"And you don't need it!" laughed Jack. "I moved a long time ago, first to Madison, then to California. Then I dropped out of university and decided not to get attached to the place at all."
"Good idea."
"Are you traveling with friends?" he asked.
Oh, if only!
"With Mom."
"That's nice."
"I wouldn't say," I replied with a grin, "and you?"
Hopefully with Fabrizio.
"I'm..."
At this point, the elevator stopped, opening the doors to a corridor covered with a blue carpet in front of us.
"Well, this is your floor!" I said with relief.
He stopped at the door and finally turned around, wanting to tell me something. But the people who joined me at that moment knocked him off his mind.
"See you again!" He managed to shout before disappearing through the metal door.
I thought he probably wanted to ask for my contacts. From the good, at least he knew the deck where he could find me if he wanted to, and he knew my name. However, sometimes this is not enough.
After a long walk, I finally returned to our two-level room and fell powerlessly on a wide azure-gray sofa. The sun's rays falling from the high window completely illuminated the living room with a soft white light. It was still morning, and I was already sleepy. I put one of the pillows on my face and closed my eyes for a few minutes. And what if, having fallen asleep, I can return to 1912, to the cold waters of the ocean, where I have no one else left?
I don't want that.
"Where have you been?" Ruth's cold voice sounded after a while.
By this point, I was already so close to the kingdom of Morpheus that I didn't even feel her standing over me.
"I was walking," I replied without removing the pillow from my face.
I didn't want to see her. I didn't want to compare her to another Ruth.
"I couldn't find a place for myself. Why did you leave and didn't say anything?"
At least she cared.
"Mom, I'm not a child anymore."
"You're still underage! I need to know where you are and who you are with."
She pronounced the last one especially emphatically.
"Yeah," I said quietly.
Ruth threw my purse on the couch.
"You forgot," she said with the same coldness.
The funny thing is that because of her way of speaking, I almost never could guess what emotions she was experiencing. Either it was anger, or condescension, or even rage.
I put down my pillow and reached into my purse to check my phone.
"Thank you for taking my things," I said politely, so as not to annoy her even more.
"Lizzie called." She sat down in the chair opposite, crossing one leg over the other.
Ruth's hair was neatly gathered, and she was wearing a dress of strict cut. Even on vacation, she maintained an official style and excessive vigilance. I felt a strength in her that was not in the other Ruth. She was not suppressed by the patriarchal society and after my father's death tried to run a business on her own. Despite the financial difficulties, Ruth was willing to go to great lengths to keep the case alive. At first glance, the only thing that united both Ruth was the fear of poverty.
The decision to go on a cruise was spontaneous and also belonged to her.
"Oh, my God!" I rolled my eyes, thinking about Lizzie and her eternal problems.
"You haven't answered your friend for an hour. She's worried."
"Is she worried that she can't tell me about her love adventures in Miami?"
"It's a pity that she didn't come with us. You wouldn't be so lonely."
"Who says I don't want to be lonely?" I said with a smile.
She looked at me without emotion, and then got up from the chair and said:
"Enjoy it."
"Are you leaving?"
"I'm going to the spa, then to the pool to look for a new daddy for you." She even joked while keeping a stony face. "Do you want to come with me?"
"I think I'll stay here."
"Then we'll meet for dinner at the restaurant," picking up sunglasses from the table and taking her bag, Ruth left me alone.
So, I had time to sort everything out. I carefully examined my phone through the eyes of another Rose, as if I had never written these messages and never taken these photos, as if it was some other girl whose identity I had appropriated. And I realized that I envy her.
She was so happy and free.
After I fell asleep again for a couple of hours, nothing happened to me: I didn't have dreams, and I didn't wake up in the past. I remained lying on the same comfortable sofa in our room, clutching the phone to me. Because of the nap, I just felt a little overwhelmed and regretted that I refused to go to the spa with Ruth. But now I could analyze everything with a more sober look and came to the conclusion that Rose from Titanic was a character in my nightmare. I fell asleep on a chaise longue, froze, and then plunged into a very realistic dream. Everything connected with her and her adventures has now become something ghostly and hazy. And it seemed to me that I had found a logical justification for all this. But how can I explain that I had feelings for the person I saw for the first time?
I went to the bathroom and stood by the mirror to clean myself up for dinner. For the first time in this crazy day, I saw the real me. I had slightly disheveled hair with a bow hanging on it, I was wearing a crumpled summer suit consisting of a lavender skirt and top (Ruth still hates lavender), and in addition to this, my mascara flowed well. Did Jack really see me like this? Or did it happen after I lay on the couch for two hours? Why didn't I think about how I look at all?
Maybe because Jack doesn't care what you look like?
I leaned over to the sink to wash off my makeup, and when I looked up at the mirror again, I recoiled abruptly. From there, a broken young girl looked at me, who had just broken things in her room in a fit of anger, her eyes were full of disappointment and tears, she hated her reflection. But it wasn't me. Behind her were the interiors of the Titanic — not my bathroom and not the room that was behind the wall.
I was scared of her, but at the same time I wanted to comfort her, to tell her that everything would be fine. I stretched out my hand, wanting to touch the mirror, and I didn't feel its surface, it wasn't there. It was as if the line between us had blurred, and she was just on the other side of me. In fear, I pulled my hand away and splashed more water in my face.
After that, Rose's ghost disappeared from my mirror, but remained in my mind. What if she was my true reflection?
*Hello, dear reader! I haven't forgotten about this story. I was on a little trip. But I have already written many chapters and I have only to translate them.*