16: Memories
As fast as master had made up it’s mind to wait until they were mortal again, it decided to send IT out to get her again. IT was not pleased with this decision, though IT did not let IT’s emotions show. Although IT was not fully healed, Dr. Crane said it would be safe for IT to attempt another mission.
At the same time IT was preparing to leave again, Alice had safely reached the Denali clan and the carriage trooped on without Michael though Tristan, Jack, and David didn’t seem to care. Rosalie kept to herself though Jack stayed close.
Shortly before they crossed the border from Canada to the states, it came to an abrupt stop. Tristan looked at Jack very carefully, then David, then Rosalie. “We’re fine” Jack said impatiently, leaning away from the couch. Again his eyes drifted from one vampire to the next.
“She is, David is, you’re not.” Jack scowled at him. “We will not move until you go.” Rosalie was jarred out of her phase then at the word go. She instantly moved closer to him, gently holding his forearm.
“Fine.” He stood and she did as well. He smiled faintly and kissed her once. She grabbed his arm tighter and he looked at her.
“Don’t go.”
He smiled. “I’m just going to hunt. I’ll be back.” She sighed deeply. “What? Did you think he was making me leave for good?” She shrugged. He chuckled softly. “I’ll never leave you.”
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”
“I can and I will.” With that, he turned and rushed out to greet the overcast late afternoon. She sat back on the couch though now not as tense.
“Relax. He’s fast and very good.” She turned to David then, something bothering her.
“David, would you say that everything Michael said was true?” He was no longer reading Great Expectations, now his hands held For Whom the Bell Tolls and he shrugged.
“I think we all knew that our parents favored you but I didn’t feel the way he did-I still don’t-for that was no more your fault than it was his or mine.” She looked at him.
“Keep talking, about something, anything. Just keep my mind busy.”
He laid his book down. “Well, what do you want me to say?”
“Anything. Tell me about your family.”
“Well, I was married, her name was Danielle. I was still in Princeton and she was well like most girls: thought that the only way for her to be was like her mother. Eventually she went into nursing and we briefly courted about six months before I left Princeton. Now, while our family was not at the level that the Dawson family was, dad and Joe both gave us enough money for us to settle down in a simple home. We married on June 18th, 1937-small, very standard for the time. We had our first child just over a year later, a boy, named Prescott. Our second was born about fifteen months later, again a boy, Carter. And our third was born two years later, a girl named Sarah. I entered the air force about a year after Sarah was born but at the time I was kept at the base, they didn’t ship out men until necessary. When they did the first time, it was 1943 and I was brought back within a week if that. Eventually I was gone more than I was home but it was a way to keep food on the table, roof over our heads, clothes on our backs.” He smiled wistfully.
“What did you do before the air force?”
“Joe set me up with a friend of his-I moved from Rochester to Lockport-and his friend, Steven Carr, owned his own company, and he took me under his wing as a carpenter. Eventually, he moved me from a mere worker to his partner. He said when I got over this foolishness and left the air force to be with my family, my job would still be waiting. And you know the rest.”
“Tell me about your wife, your kids.”
He smiled. “Danielle was what Jack would have called conventional beauty-honey blonde hair, eyes that were slightly darker than yours-well when you were human-an overall fine physique. But all of that paled in comparison to her heart. She was so compassionate and full of life, it radiated around her and made you feel alive. That was why it was so hard for her to simply finish her schooling and not go straight into nursing. But she threw all that gusto and energy into parenting and was beyond amazing at it.” He stopped then, his head tilted to the left slightly. “Prescott, well, he was born on August 12, 1938. Danielle had a twenty-two hour labor with him, but she never complained and when it was over and he was in her arms, she knew it was worth it. He looked exactly like his mother-hair, eyes, whole nine yards-except for the smile, that was mine. He was a lot like me too-very quiet, somewhat shy. Carter was the polar opposite-his hair was like Michael’s, his eyes were like mine and he was born so fast the doctor almost didn’t catch him. He was always that way though-early. Born three weeks before the due date, learned to crawl a month earlier than Prescott, learned to walk earlier than Prescott, did everything so fast. And then Sarah, who was partly me-my hair and eyes-and the rest was her mother-just nurturing and giving.”
For a minute he stopped, seeming weakened simply by recalling the past and she hoped she hadn’t pushed him too far. Quick as it had come on, the strength returned and he smiled at her, taking out a small book no bigger than a paper-back novel. He turned several pages until he came upon one that satisfied him. “That was my wedding day” he said though Rosalie could easily tell by the clothing. He was younger though somehow he seemed older and the look he had on his face was pure undiluted love. From there she saw pictures of birthdays, his days in the air force, school events, everything she knew she deserved and David had but lost far too soon.
“Did you ever find out what happened to them?”
“More or less. Prescott went to Boston University, became a surgeon. He went to one of the most prominent hospitals and worked there for just over thirty years. Carter used his brawn over his brains in school-went to University of Texas in Austin as quarterback, had to quit after junior year, injury to his knee. He became a coach there, worked there for a long time. Danielle, well, she never remarried raised the kids on her own-well, mostly-eventually she moved back to Rochester, Joe helped her there, whole support system. She took up nursing and retired about fifteen years ago, died about ten years ago.”
“What about your daughter?”
“I never found anything past her graduation-valedictorian.” He beamed proudly, then seemed weak again.
Before Rosalie could ask him anything, Jack gracefully came gliding back in, sitting next to her, smiling. She smiled back.
“Happy?”
“Deliriously.”
“Good. Can we go?” Tristan nodded and slowly the carriage moved on. David resumed his book, Tristan sat going over some maps. Jack and Rosalie sat on the couch, neither speaking, Rosalie in Jack’s arms.
<Rhyme to me. One of yours.>
She felt his body stiffen, his neck popped, his eyes closed. She leaned up on him and looked up at his face. Just when she though of apologizing, he began.
<If I should fall in love, I’ll fall in love with you. If I should make love, it will be you I make love to. If I should ask for a hand in marriage, it shall be your hand I ask for. If I should pick one person to be the mother of my children, I shall pick you. If I should fall asleep with someone in my bed, I want that someone to be you. If I should share my dreams with someone, I want you to be my dream catcher. If I should see my children down the aisle, I want you to be the proud mother. If I should see the birth of my grandchildren, I want you to be the new grandmother. If I should grow old, I want to grow old with you. If I should leave before my time, I want you near me. If I should love someone for the rest of my days, I shall love you.>
If the first poem David had recited left her stunned, this one left her floored. She had known Jack to be an intense person but she had never heard it quite like this.
<David said all your poems were about me.>
<He’s right.>
<Even the one you just said?>
<Yes.>
Silence.
Tristan was still bent over some maps, muttering under his breath. “Jack? Come here for a moment, please.” Reluctantly Rosalie sat up and he strode towards him. “Exactly where are they?” Jack’s finger traced a line to the final destination. “Ah that’s right. Thank you.” He nodded once and sat back next to her. She hesitated before she lay in his arms again though this time only one hand held her, the other aimlessly ran through her hair.
Rosalie turned her head up to look at Jack’s face though his eyes were closed. She sighed almost inaudibly and lay back down, wondering what was wrong now.
<I’m sorry.>
<For what?>
<Making you feel the way you do now.>
<I’m fine.>
<You’re not acting like it.>
His arm that was holding her snaked its way across her abdomen and held tightly to her.
<See? Fine.>
<MHM.>
<Sigh.>
<You poem-do you still want those things?>
<Yes.>
<All of them?>
<Yes, I’ve just been waiting for the right person.>
<Me?>
<No, Alice. Yes you. Forever love.>
She couldn’t answer back, her mind tossing and turning the information.
<Jack?>
<Yes?>
<The night that you were changed…>
She caught her breath and looked up at the ceiling of the carriage. Jack kept perfectly still and silent-he wasn’t quite sure what was happening but he didn’t want to interrupt it…Whatever it was.
How she had never wanted to tell him this…How many nights when she was human had she lain awake, crying herself to sleep over this…How long it had taken her to push this deep, dark secret in a place where she would almost never think of it…
<Rose? Don’t make yourself do anything you aren’t ready for.>
<I’m sorry.>
<Nothing to apologize for. When you’re ready to tell me, you will.>
<Thank you.>
<No need for thanks. Anyone should thank anyone, I should thank you.>
<For what?>
<You didn’t have to defend me against Alice but you did. You didn’t have to stay with me, but you did. You saved me.>
<Ditto.>
His lips lightly touched her cheek and she smiled at the feel of it.
<I love you, Rosalie Lillian Hale. Forever love.>
<I love you, Jack William Dawson. Forever love.>
As fast as master had made up it’s mind to wait until they were mortal again, it decided to send IT out to get her again. IT was not pleased with this decision, though IT did not let IT’s emotions show. Although IT was not fully healed, Dr. Crane said it would be safe for IT to attempt another mission.
At the same time IT was preparing to leave again, Alice had safely reached the Denali clan and the carriage trooped on without Michael though Tristan, Jack, and David didn’t seem to care. Rosalie kept to herself though Jack stayed close.
Shortly before they crossed the border from Canada to the states, it came to an abrupt stop. Tristan looked at Jack very carefully, then David, then Rosalie. “We’re fine” Jack said impatiently, leaning away from the couch. Again his eyes drifted from one vampire to the next.
“She is, David is, you’re not.” Jack scowled at him. “We will not move until you go.” Rosalie was jarred out of her phase then at the word go. She instantly moved closer to him, gently holding his forearm.
“Fine.” He stood and she did as well. He smiled faintly and kissed her once. She grabbed his arm tighter and he looked at her.
“Don’t go.”
He smiled. “I’m just going to hunt. I’ll be back.” She sighed deeply. “What? Did you think he was making me leave for good?” She shrugged. He chuckled softly. “I’ll never leave you.”
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”
“I can and I will.” With that, he turned and rushed out to greet the overcast late afternoon. She sat back on the couch though now not as tense.
“Relax. He’s fast and very good.” She turned to David then, something bothering her.
“David, would you say that everything Michael said was true?” He was no longer reading Great Expectations, now his hands held For Whom the Bell Tolls and he shrugged.
“I think we all knew that our parents favored you but I didn’t feel the way he did-I still don’t-for that was no more your fault than it was his or mine.” She looked at him.
“Keep talking, about something, anything. Just keep my mind busy.”
He laid his book down. “Well, what do you want me to say?”
“Anything. Tell me about your family.”
“Well, I was married, her name was Danielle. I was still in Princeton and she was well like most girls: thought that the only way for her to be was like her mother. Eventually she went into nursing and we briefly courted about six months before I left Princeton. Now, while our family was not at the level that the Dawson family was, dad and Joe both gave us enough money for us to settle down in a simple home. We married on June 18th, 1937-small, very standard for the time. We had our first child just over a year later, a boy, named Prescott. Our second was born about fifteen months later, again a boy, Carter. And our third was born two years later, a girl named Sarah. I entered the air force about a year after Sarah was born but at the time I was kept at the base, they didn’t ship out men until necessary. When they did the first time, it was 1943 and I was brought back within a week if that. Eventually I was gone more than I was home but it was a way to keep food on the table, roof over our heads, clothes on our backs.” He smiled wistfully.
“What did you do before the air force?”
“Joe set me up with a friend of his-I moved from Rochester to Lockport-and his friend, Steven Carr, owned his own company, and he took me under his wing as a carpenter. Eventually, he moved me from a mere worker to his partner. He said when I got over this foolishness and left the air force to be with my family, my job would still be waiting. And you know the rest.”
“Tell me about your wife, your kids.”
He smiled. “Danielle was what Jack would have called conventional beauty-honey blonde hair, eyes that were slightly darker than yours-well when you were human-an overall fine physique. But all of that paled in comparison to her heart. She was so compassionate and full of life, it radiated around her and made you feel alive. That was why it was so hard for her to simply finish her schooling and not go straight into nursing. But she threw all that gusto and energy into parenting and was beyond amazing at it.” He stopped then, his head tilted to the left slightly. “Prescott, well, he was born on August 12, 1938. Danielle had a twenty-two hour labor with him, but she never complained and when it was over and he was in her arms, she knew it was worth it. He looked exactly like his mother-hair, eyes, whole nine yards-except for the smile, that was mine. He was a lot like me too-very quiet, somewhat shy. Carter was the polar opposite-his hair was like Michael’s, his eyes were like mine and he was born so fast the doctor almost didn’t catch him. He was always that way though-early. Born three weeks before the due date, learned to crawl a month earlier than Prescott, learned to walk earlier than Prescott, did everything so fast. And then Sarah, who was partly me-my hair and eyes-and the rest was her mother-just nurturing and giving.”
For a minute he stopped, seeming weakened simply by recalling the past and she hoped she hadn’t pushed him too far. Quick as it had come on, the strength returned and he smiled at her, taking out a small book no bigger than a paper-back novel. He turned several pages until he came upon one that satisfied him. “That was my wedding day” he said though Rosalie could easily tell by the clothing. He was younger though somehow he seemed older and the look he had on his face was pure undiluted love. From there she saw pictures of birthdays, his days in the air force, school events, everything she knew she deserved and David had but lost far too soon.
“Did you ever find out what happened to them?”
“More or less. Prescott went to Boston University, became a surgeon. He went to one of the most prominent hospitals and worked there for just over thirty years. Carter used his brawn over his brains in school-went to University of Texas in Austin as quarterback, had to quit after junior year, injury to his knee. He became a coach there, worked there for a long time. Danielle, well, she never remarried raised the kids on her own-well, mostly-eventually she moved back to Rochester, Joe helped her there, whole support system. She took up nursing and retired about fifteen years ago, died about ten years ago.”
“What about your daughter?”
“I never found anything past her graduation-valedictorian.” He beamed proudly, then seemed weak again.
Before Rosalie could ask him anything, Jack gracefully came gliding back in, sitting next to her, smiling. She smiled back.
“Happy?”
“Deliriously.”
“Good. Can we go?” Tristan nodded and slowly the carriage moved on. David resumed his book, Tristan sat going over some maps. Jack and Rosalie sat on the couch, neither speaking, Rosalie in Jack’s arms.
<Rhyme to me. One of yours.>
She felt his body stiffen, his neck popped, his eyes closed. She leaned up on him and looked up at his face. Just when she though of apologizing, he began.
<If I should fall in love, I’ll fall in love with you. If I should make love, it will be you I make love to. If I should ask for a hand in marriage, it shall be your hand I ask for. If I should pick one person to be the mother of my children, I shall pick you. If I should fall asleep with someone in my bed, I want that someone to be you. If I should share my dreams with someone, I want you to be my dream catcher. If I should see my children down the aisle, I want you to be the proud mother. If I should see the birth of my grandchildren, I want you to be the new grandmother. If I should grow old, I want to grow old with you. If I should leave before my time, I want you near me. If I should love someone for the rest of my days, I shall love you.>
If the first poem David had recited left her stunned, this one left her floored. She had known Jack to be an intense person but she had never heard it quite like this.
<David said all your poems were about me.>
<He’s right.>
<Even the one you just said?>
<Yes.>
Silence.
Tristan was still bent over some maps, muttering under his breath. “Jack? Come here for a moment, please.” Reluctantly Rosalie sat up and he strode towards him. “Exactly where are they?” Jack’s finger traced a line to the final destination. “Ah that’s right. Thank you.” He nodded once and sat back next to her. She hesitated before she lay in his arms again though this time only one hand held her, the other aimlessly ran through her hair.
Rosalie turned her head up to look at Jack’s face though his eyes were closed. She sighed almost inaudibly and lay back down, wondering what was wrong now.
<I’m sorry.>
<For what?>
<Making you feel the way you do now.>
<I’m fine.>
<You’re not acting like it.>
His arm that was holding her snaked its way across her abdomen and held tightly to her.
<See? Fine.>
<MHM.>
<Sigh.>
<You poem-do you still want those things?>
<Yes.>
<All of them?>
<Yes, I’ve just been waiting for the right person.>
<Me?>
<No, Alice. Yes you. Forever love.>
She couldn’t answer back, her mind tossing and turning the information.
<Jack?>
<Yes?>
<The night that you were changed…>
She caught her breath and looked up at the ceiling of the carriage. Jack kept perfectly still and silent-he wasn’t quite sure what was happening but he didn’t want to interrupt it…Whatever it was.
How she had never wanted to tell him this…How many nights when she was human had she lain awake, crying herself to sleep over this…How long it had taken her to push this deep, dark secret in a place where she would almost never think of it…
<Rose? Don’t make yourself do anything you aren’t ready for.>
<I’m sorry.>
<Nothing to apologize for. When you’re ready to tell me, you will.>
<Thank you.>
<No need for thanks. Anyone should thank anyone, I should thank you.>
<For what?>
<You didn’t have to defend me against Alice but you did. You didn’t have to stay with me, but you did. You saved me.>
<Ditto.>
His lips lightly touched her cheek and she smiled at the feel of it.
<I love you, Rosalie Lillian Hale. Forever love.>
<I love you, Jack William Dawson. Forever love.>
