Titanic

O.6

Authors note:
So so sorry that the last chapter was soooo long.  I hope you're enjoying it so far! Remember to vote and comment!
Thanks,
S.
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Roses point of view:

" I work my way from place to place. Tramp steamers and such. I won my ticket
on Titanic here in a lucky hand at poker," he glances at me, " a very lucky hand,"

"All life is a game of luck," Gracie's pipes in.

"A real man makes his own luck, eh Jack?" Cal says looking at him.

I notice that Mr. Andrews is writing in his book, completely ignoring the whole conversation. This dinner was a different one, a more happier one.

"Mr. Andrews, what are you doing? I see you everywhere writing in this
little book," I grab it and read it, "Increase number of screws in hat hooks from 2 to 3. You build the biggest
ship in the world and this preoccupies you?!"

He smiles sheepishly.

"He knows every rivet in her, don't you Thomas," Ismay cuts in.

"All three million of them," Andrew replies

"His blood and soul are in the ship. She may be mine on paper, but in the
eyes of God she belongs to Thomas Andrews," Ismay continues.

"Your ship is a wonder, Mr. Andrews. Truly," I was genuinely interested in talking about this with him but I wanted to talk with Jack more. He made me feel.... different.

"Thank you Rose," he smiles at me.

Dessert has been served and a waiter arrives with
cigars in a humidor on a wheeled cart. The men start clipping ends and
lighting.

I say lowly to Jack, "Next it'll be brandies in the Smoking Room,"

Rising, "Well, join me for a brandy, gentlemen?" Gracie asks.

"Now they retreat into a cloud of smoke and congratulate each other on being
masters of the universe," i still say lowly to him.

"Joining us, Dawson? You don't want to stay out here with the women, do you?" Gracie asked wiping his hands once again on the napkin.

"No thanks I'm heading back..." he replies.

"Probably best. It'll be all business and politics, that sort of thing.
Wouldn't interest you. Good of you to come," Cal sarcastically says.

They all leave except for Jack.

I turn to him, "Jack must you go?"

"Time to go row with the other slaves," he sighs jokingly.

He leans over and takes my hand and kisses it. I felt something in my hand when he let go. I slowly lower my hand under the table so mother doesn't see, but she was preoccupied with the gossip. I unfold the paper

: to make it count. Meet me at the clock.

I stand up not even bothering to tell mother bye, I cross the A-Deck foyer, sighting Jack at the landing above. Overhead
is the crystal dome. Jack has his back to me, studying the ornate clock
with its carved figures of Honor and Glory. It softly strikes the hour.