Rose had woken up with a start, much to Trudy's surprise. She had never seen her lady so lively. She had asked Trudy to draw her a bath and did as she requested, adding her lady's favourite lavender bath salts and bubble bath to help her relax, carrying on with her morning duties, and leaving Rose fully alone.
Hugging herself in her robe, Rose locked her bathroom door to make sure Cal would not intrude. She breathed in the lovely scent, Rose felt her skin tingle as relief washed over her. She dipped her toes in the bath to test the temperature before climbing in and submerging herself completely.
Her thoughts were swimming with the sun-kissed boy she had met the previous night.
She still couldn't wrap her head around how a mere stranger had such an e ect on her. Was it love? It couldn't be, surely? What she was feeling could not be anything equivalent to that.
She laughed to herself as she surfaced, gathering a luxurious scented soap purchased in Paris, in her hand and stared into the lavender bubbles, sighing wistfully.
Grabbing her sponge, she lathered her ivory skin and scrubbed to rid herself of Cal's repugnant touch from the night before and instead thought of Mr Dawson's rm but gentle touch. She had to nd him again before dinner came around. Closing her eyes, she felt her heart pound on how she would thank him for his discretion or where she would nd him. She couldn't waste any time, she had already told Mother and Cal she wasn't feeling up to breakfast and they would be back soon. Not too soon, but she didn't want to risk running into them on her way to search out Mr. Dawson.
Calling on Trudy once more, she got dressed in a lovely yellow dress that her mother had helped pick out for her in Paris. Helped out, which meant Ruth had picked it out for her while Rose simply oated along behind her, a gentle smile hiding what was bubbling beneath the surface. Outwardly she was everything a well brought up girl should be. On the inside, though, she was far from that, emotional turmoil spinning inside her.
As Trudy pinned up Rose's hair, Rose smiled to herself in her vanity, despite her nerves. Trudy had noticed and gave a smile of her own, "What is it, Miss?" she asked softly, framing
Rose's face with some stray curls that she hadn't pinned up. "You know, I despised the colour of this dress when my mother had picked it out. But now," she exhaled softly, "it reminds me of sunshine. Beautiful sweet sweet-smelling sunshine." she met her maid's curious glance in the mirror, her girlish grin matching her own.
"Surely, you would like to wear a hat, Miss?" Trudy o ered, handing Rose her purse as she was stepping into the corridor. Rose just simply gave a gentle shake of her head, "No thank you Trudy, I would like to feel the sunshine today." She bid her farewell and started for the third class entrance, the dormant butter ies in her belly springing to life once more.
Walking along the deck, she felt as if she hadn't felt the sunshine in years. Unlocking the gate that separated her world from his, she released a shaky breath, her ngers dgeting with the straps of her purse as she scanned the area for Mr Dawson.
She found him in the centre of the Third-Class general room, after working up the nerve to speak to him all morning. They
stood opposing each other in a surreal yet comfortable silence, curious eyes searching one another.
The day appeared to be clear, without a wisp of cloud in the sky, and as they were exposed to the fresh air upon the Promenade Deck, she realised that the other passengers would still be eating their breakfast for a while. It was, after all, only a few hours after dawn. She had left rather early, she thought to herself in hindsight.
The sea breeze welcomed her, and unlike last night, it wasn't laced with icy Atlantic chill. Over her left shoulder, land was clear and the green mounds of Ireland were standing out like the beauty she was. Walking side by side, both of them were awkward and tentative for very di erent reasons.
Jack was very aware of her, as though a heat was radiating from her to him. As she played with the straps of her purse, he watched her through squinted eyes. She almost felt as though he was judging her. Perhaps he was wondering just why exactly she had pulled him away from breakfast, to stand out on decks with him barely after dawn.
In the stark light of day, his eyes were vivid and a corn ower blue. His hair was lighter, perhaps after being freshened in a bath, his skin was wonderfully tanned as though he had spent the summer someplace exotic; not the type of colour you would have expected from a child of the colder climates, and his hands were just as she remembered in her dreams; just as he held them at her waist.
They were twice the size of hers, dirt and paint faded across his bitten nails, his knuckles were wrinkled with the roughness of work, ngertips calloused, touched by smudges of what she assumed was charcoal. All of it should have been unattractive, all evidence of a working man.
A working man. With eyes too beautiful for a man. Teeth too perfect for a man of his nature. Even the light blonde stubble appearing across his chin was an attractive quality she had never found before. She had always seen men in her crowd cleanly shaved or sporting an elegant and fashionable moustache, but that tended to be reserved for the elderly.
Jack had to be her age or a little older. Rose started to speak before she faltered after her thorough examination of him.
"I wish to thank you for what you did, not just for pulling me back, but for your discretion. My ance would have been none too pleased if he had known the entire truth."
"You're welcome."
"I am such an idiot; it has taken me all morning to work up the nerve to face you and now, I feel as though words have quite failed me."
"Well, you're not an idiot, but you would have been if you had let go of that railing."
"Would you really have jumped in after me?"
"I really don't know. I was kinda hoping that I could nd a way to get you back over the rail, to me, y'know?" As he spoke the latter, Rose's eyes startlingly caught his. "I didn't think past that."
"Yes, people are always trying to get me to do what think is best."
"But why was no one else there with you? That is what I was thinking. Why did no one care enough to follow you out there? My God, that is what scared me the most.'' Jack softened his voice for a moment. "Why were you alone?''
"Because, we are not to reveal our innermost thoughts to any other, especially to those heavily involving the marriage that we are about to enter into."
"So you're going to marry him?''
''Yes,'' Rose con rmed, as though her ring and Cal's presence last night had not solidi ed the evidence of their upcoming nuptials.
"You should be heard by him then."
"All people seem to think when I even speak of a negative matter that I should know nothing of misery. Oh, poor little rich girl!" Rose laughed pathetically. "They all think that life is fabulous and should never speak up about anything otherwise."
"What happened to make you think there was no other way out?''
"It was everything. My whole world and its entire contents. The people in my life seem to just plunge ahead without me, without the real need for me really, and I am powerless to stop it. I feel as though I am just a small part of a very large con ict, standing by, just waiting for the next order to be given. It is an endless parade and I cannot seem to nd a way to make it cease.''
"Is the penguin part of that?''
Rose furrowed her brow in confusion until she realised that he had meant Cal.
''Yes. Five hundred invitations have been sent out. All of Philadelphia Society will be there, and all the while I feel I am standing in the middle of a crowded room, screaming at the top of my lungs and no one even looks up.''
''No, they never will.''
''You sound as though you speak with experience.''
''Nah, I just know the type well.'' They came to a rail, and Jack stopped to turn, casually grabbing some rigging.
''When will you be married?''
''June.''
''I see.'' Jack studied her as though she was a work of art, and beneath the sun, she felt completely exposed. ''What else?''
''I'm sorry?''
''Well, there has to be more to it than that.'' Jack leant back ever so casually against the rail and she felt o ended by his nonchalance until she saw the wrinkle of concern upon his forehead, the depths of concern swimming within his eyes. Why was a guy like him so easy to talk to?
She had so many questions about him and couldn't come up with any answers.
"Well, I…I feel trapped. There is no way out. I have melancholia or so the doctor tells me. I can be calm one day and erratic on any other day. Any one hour. Stupid really.''
Rose waited for a terrible reaction but instead, his focus settled entirely on her and it made her continue speaking with such ease.
''He prescribed me a pill to take every morning, and it makes me feel so--'' she struggled to nd the correct words until she took a shaky breath, "they do not know I stopped taking it weeks ago, and the sadness returned, but then I do not believe that it ever truly really went away. My maid disposes of it every night and signs the doctor's papers to say that I have taken it.''
Jack remained neutral at her confession.
''Do you love him?''
Rose visibly tensed.
''Pardon me?''
''Do you love him?''
''Mr. Dawson, you are very rude. I-''
''No, I am just honest.''
''You shouldn't be asking me this.''
''It is just making you uncomfortable, the thing is, you just told me so much about yourself, told me stu that your ance does not know, but you cannot tell me if you love the guy?'' Jack raised a brow. ''You can't know yourself.''
''I-I—I am certainly not uncomfortable with my feelings, nor am I with your approach to this conversation.''
Neither did she like to admit that she was both.
''You need to be honest, if not with me, then with yourself.''
A porter was approaching, with a serving tray and suddenly, the brightness of the day was overwhelming. Rose pressed her hand to shield her face from the rays of the sun which felt as though it burnt through to her soul.
''You only see what you want to see, you know nothing of me, and my situation, you truly see nothing at all.''
''I see you. I know you.''
Jack's voice wrapped its way around her. It warmed yet chilled her, a beautiful paradox.
It caused her to tremble because she knew how true it was; he saw through to her very soul. The ends of his lips twitched into a lopsided smile, but he twitched more when he went
rummaging in that damned leather portfolio that he had been carrying around.
He pulled out a landscape piece of paper which he presented to her.
''Look at this.''
It was a charcoal drawing of a woman. She was aboard a luxury ship, high above the artist upon a deck, somewhere. Lines of sadness were etched across her face, a hideous hat shadowed half of her face, but the other exposed part was beyond miserable. Rose could almost step into the drawing and sense the melancholia of the young woman.
''Jack…is this your work?''
The wind caused the paper to ap within her delicate ngers but she held onto it tightly.
"Uh huh.''
She gazed up at him, sensing something about him; a new light. A new dimension to him. Oh, howmuch of a fascinating human he was. Going back to the picture, she could not help but run her ngers across the page, careful to not smudge the intricate and beautiful lines.
"This is quite something…see, you can see how her soul has almost left her already.''
"How does she look to you?''
Rose paused to think for a moment. The way that this woman gazed downwards at the artist pulled at her heartstrings. It was as though she did not have anyone else in the world to turn to, but this very artist. Perhaps, she was almost oblivious to him, too. At that moment, she was beyond intrigued by it all.
''Melancholic. Like a beautiful exotic bird in a hideous cage, just on edge…''
''Waiting to die?''
''Or to break free. What are the odds of that though?''
''Well…there has to be a chance, an opportunity. That cage will not stay closed forever. Some day, someone will reach in, even just out of curiosity, and then, if it sees t, it could take a chance to escape.''
Rose sco ed. "How intelligent this bird may be.''
"Why not?'' Jack raised his eyebrow. "Man is not the only species that is intelligent. I grew up with farm animals, known to be the bottom of the shit pile, right?''
Rose winced at his choice of language before raising an eyebrow as to what his point could be.
"Did you know that pigs are one of the most intelligent animals around? So are monkeys. Birds that are caged, they are not just for show, neither are humans.'' Jack went quiet for a moment, Rose could only study the drawing of the woman.
Oh, how she empathised, but truly, felt the need to help her, whoever she was. She studied the lines in mass detail.
''The woman in the picture is you.''
That caused Rose to stop to blink at him, temporarily distracted by his eyes boring into her.
She glanced downwards at the picture and back to him once more. Rose paused to touch the pages again, never had she seen such a talent like his, from only one picture he could read a person's soul.
"So you say that I only see what I want to see, that is you yesterday morning. You came out on deck and I could only stop what I was doing to stare and then draw you. You have said that her soul has already left. I saw your loneliness and depression before I even met you last night.''
Rose was drawn into the picture as though she was a witness right there to her misery and opened the window to her own heart. If Cal could not see this, but a mere stranger could then she was entirely unsettled.
She could see, after studying, that it was indeed her and her eyes lled with unshed tears. Now, it was almost like facing herself in the mirror as she had done last night before running to the stern.
"I can see that," Rose stated, matter of factly. ''Is that why you approached me?''
"No, I came to you because I know how it feels sometimes to be alone, depressed, and even scared.''
Rose wished to press the matter further but she simply took a startling new direction, in a con dent air that left Jack no other option than to continue conversing her way.
She asked, "So, where will you go from here?'' She handed him the drawing back and he inserted it back inside his portfolio as though it was forgotten, electricity sparking in her blood as their ngertips brushed.
Jack shrugged. "Well, Fabrizio…" Noting Rose's puzzlement, Jack hastily explained. "He's my friend. We have travelled together for a few years, he's originally from Italy and quite the seasoned traveller." Jack said in mock jest, and Rose smiled softly.
"He thinks his destiny is to become a millionaire in America."
Upon hearing her laugh, he realised it was a lovely sound, it was the rst time that he had ever heard it and it was the most heavenly sound he had ever heard.
"What about you?Will you return home toWisconsin?"
''No, I prefer the warmer climates.''
Rose had nodded along with his nebulous plans. "So..." He paused brie y. "What about you?What do you want to do when we reach New York?" He tried to subtly accentuate the word "want" in his question.
Rose, oblivious, missed the hint.
She turned to him with a frustrated grimace. "Well, my engagement gala is in New York next week." Some of her earlier indignant ire was starting to resurface. "And then, the wedding in June..."
Jack nodded patiently. "Yes. But I didn't ask what you were going to do, I asked what you wanted to do." This time the emphasis was stronger. Rose still didn't seem to quite understand where he was leading. It wasn't lack of intelligence that caused her confusion; it was sheer fact that she was unacquainted with the territory to which the question referred. Jack elaborated for her bene t. "If you could do anything in the world, anything, what would it be?''
Rose looked uneasy for a eeting moment. She re-examined Jack even more closely this time if that was even possible. He felt her eyes probing him, seeking to see if he could be fully trusted.
Making the statement sound like a question, she said, "Promise you won't laugh." Jack promptly nodded, genuinely curious about what she would like to do.
"Well, I would like…"
Here she trailed o , obviously uncertain of herself. After a deep breath, she tried again. "I want to be an actress."
Jack could feel Rose studying him intently. It seemed like part of her wanted to nd a fault in him, nd him laughing at her, so she could decry him, just like everybody else-freeing her to stay completely within herself. Another part seemed intent on keeping him nearby.
"Like on a stage?"
Rose seemed to ponder this for a moment. "Maybe, or I want to be in those newmoving picture lms. Like Isadora Duncan."
At his lack of judgement, she continued, "I always felt as though I could be some kind of an artist. Living in a garret; poor but free."
He chuckled lightly. "You wouldn't last two days. There's no hot water and hardly ever any caviar."
Rose ashed hot in anger. She turned on her heel to face him, for they'd begun strolling again. "Listen, mister…" She was so irritated, she didn't quite know where to go from there.
"I hate caviar!" Jack, who had sobered rapidly in the face of her sudden change of humour, had to struggle to keep down a new set of laughter. Of all the ways to respond, she had picked the one niggling point.
She came back to her senses a little and continued in a better vein. "Why must you be the one to dismiss my dreams after all? Just like the rest, I suppose, dismissing it with a chuckle. I am a woman, who are we to have dreams?''
Jack felt guilty for his reaction. He still couldn't quite picture her making the necessary sacri ces, but he didn't want to fall into the same mould the others in her circle had. Looking straight into her eyes, without a hint of condescension, he apologised.
"I'm sorry."
She didn't look convinced, but he was sincere. "Really...I am. I should not have judged. I was taken back."
"Well, all right." They resumed their stroll around the deck, no longer uncomfortable with the other's presence.
After a few steps, Jack asked another question. "Why don't you just do it?"
Rose's brows knitted together.
"You don't understand..." She trailed o , obviously uncertain of how to continue. Jack agreed with that sentiment. Indeed, that was why he had asked the question in the rst place. He was hoping for a fuller explanation. Just before he prodded, she stated, "It's just not that easy."
"No, nothing is, that is why you gotta work for it.'' He said with a smirk. "But hard work and hard times, they pay o . You learn to be grateful for the small things and not worry about the big stu so much."
"What could you know about it?"
"Well, I've been on my own since I was fteen and my folks died. I had no siblings and no close kin in that part of the country so I left and haven't been back since. You can just call me a tumbleweed blowing in the damned wind."
"I'm sorry to hear of your parents. It is too young to be made an orphan."
Jack shrugged, his hands deep in his pockets, his portfolio nestled safely against him.
"It was hard, I stayed for their burial and that was it. I didn't know how to fend for myself really, I learned and now I'm
happier than I could be with 2 feet on the ground at all times."
"Do you enjoy your travels?"
"Of course. I love waking up in the morning and not knowing where I'll be by the end of the day. Life comes at you so fast and fate deals you so many hands, good and bad, you gotta learn to take life that way."
If Rose was fascinated by him before, she was completely enthralled with him now.
"You sound as though today could be your last.",
"It could. You never know what will happen. Ma and Pop were in their early forties. My grandfather didn't make thirty, I never met him."
Rose came to a stop by the rail and was suddenly captivated by the sea out ahead of them.
"You know what? Let's talk as though we have these few days to make it count." excitement lingered in Rose's stomach. "What would you do?"
"We should go to California, to the pier in Santa Monica. I did portraits there for ten cents a piece." Jack leant at the rail with her and their ngertips were so close that she could almost feel their contact.
"There is a rollercoaster there, you gotta ride it until you throw up after drinking cheap beer. Then you gotta ride horses on the beach, right in the surf. You gotta do it like a real cowboy, none of that sidesaddle shit."
Rose suddenly broke into laughter, her eyes crinkling.
''Perhaps you should teach me,'' she suggested, "teach me to ride like a man, how to drive a car, how to behave like one and in return, I shall show you just how to be a gentleman.''
"A gentleman, huh?"
"Yes, if you are to attend dinner tonight then you will need to know these things.''
Rose noticed the raise of his eyebrows, and the tilt of his head as he smiled at her.
It was wonderful, and suddenly, she had no care in the world aside from her dreams.
That, and spending more time with him.