A New Beginning

Chapter 48: First Day on the Job

Chapter 48: First Day on The Job

"I love you," Jack says, kissing Rose.

"I love you too," Rose smiles.

"Are you sure you're going to be okay?" Jack asks with a grin.

"I'll be fine," Rose says, she holds Sybil expertly. "Have a good first day."

Jack kisses Rose once more before grabbing his portfolio and heading out to the waiting car.

Peter pulls out of the driveway.

"Excited?" Emma asks Jack.

"Yeah," Jack says. "And nervous."

"Don't be," Emma says with a smile. "You're a great person, everyone will like you."

"You sure?" Jack asks.

Emma gives him a look. "You got a first-class girl to fall in love with you and run away with you, I think you're okay."

Jack smiles and takes out a cigarette.

"Didn't I tell you those things can kill you?" Emma snaps. "You should really quit that Jack, it's not good for you or the people around you."

"Sorry 'Mother'" Jack teases.

"Okay if you insist on doing that, just aim it out the window," Emma says.

"Fine," Jack says. He and Emma were almost like brother and sister, caring deeply for each other and yet arguing like little children. This made Jack feel fine because he never had any siblings growing up, so he felt more like he had a family as he and Rose grew closer to Peter and Emma.

He lights it up and stares out at the city landscape. The morning light is peeking up over some of the buildings, casting a bright glow and sharp shadows onto the street. Some people are already out and about in the neighbourhood; several men are walking towards the train station in their business suits, children are running down the street on their way to school and quite a few women are out watering their gardens. Jack wishes he could be at home with Rose and their baby, but he needed the money more than anything. Jack breathes some smoke out the window and embraces the warm morning air.

Peter pulls up to the police station.

"Stay safe," Peter jokes.

"Thanks, I'll take the bus home."

"Good idea," Emma says. "We might be home late. Good luck."

Jack walks up the large stone steps of the station, his stomach turning several times. He opens the door into a busy and very messy station. The noise overwhelms him at first and several officers rush past him, most likely getting a call, while phones ring off the hook for tips for detectives. Paperwork is piled high on desks and several suspects sit on wooden benches, looking either ashamed or indifferent.

Jack walks up to the front desk. A secretary looks up at him.

"Can I help you?"

"I'm Jack Dawson, I'm the new sketch artist."

"Oh yes, let me just call over Mr. Anderson."

The woman picks up the phone and practically has to scream into the mouthpiece over the noise.

A handsome man, about 30 or so comes through the chaos, dressed in a dark uniform, buttoned up to his neck. His chest is puffed out, clearly proud of being able to don the uniform of the law. He carries his hat under his arm. He has gray eyes and thick black hair that is combed to perfection.

"Welcome," the man says and offers his hand. "Welcome to the force, my name is Officer Joel Anderson."

"Jack Dawson," Jack says, shaking the man's hand.