Rose and Jack spent two days at the monastery, sleeping very prudently in guestrooms placed in entirely different parts of the building to prevent indecency, and enjoying pleasant albeit dull meals with the nuns and the other girls at their care. Jack entertained Pearl with his recent adventures as a merchant marine, which was his given profession – none of them true, Rose suspected – and Pearl told him of all the mischief she had been up to. She apparently was an expert at leading the other girls on quests of trickery and pranks against the nuns, as well as making nightly raids into the kitchens, and she never got caught.
"That's my girl," said Jack proudly.
Then came the evening of the second day, and it was time to leave.
"See you at Christmas then," said Pearl. "I want more earrings, and a necklace to match. Hm. And sweets. Yep, sweets too." The girl's voice was neutral and her eyes dry, but the pain of separation was written all over her face.
"Greedy imp. Do you think I'm made of money?" Jack's feigned rebuke sounded flat and unconvincing. Like he too was hiding his true emotions.
"I do, actually. You've made all these great trade deals lately – you told me yourself just the other day about the amazing profit, savvy?"
"Don't mimic my speech, girl. And I forgot to mention I'm poorer than a church mouse right now. Lost it all at dice – with Miss Dawson." He nodded solemnly in Rose's direction.
"Liar." Pearl pulled his head down so she could smack a loud kiss on his cheek. "You'd never let your girlfriend take your gold. Anyway. Gotta go. Bye-bye!" She whirled around and ran back towards the stern building.
Jack looked long after his daughter, with stiff shoulders and a slight frown on his brow. Then he glanced at Rose. "Girlfriend, huh?" His smile looked plastered on.
Rose did not reply, but when he offered her his arm she squeezed it soothingly.
During the walk back to his house, Jack was unusually cheerful, but he was not very convincing. It was clear he felt bad about leaving his daughter, and tried to hide it – probably from himself more than anything.
He chatted about the summoning they would soon do, and how good it would be to board a ship again the next day. "I've almost lost my sea legs. And I miss the salty wind on my face."
"And the rum?" Rose retorted.
That silenced him, and neither of them spoke for the rest of the walk.
.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.
All the way to the cabin, Rose mulled over all the questions she wanted to ask him, but had not had an opportunity to until now. At the monastery they had never been alone together.
She feared he would refuse to tell her anything personal, as was his habit, but felt that after this she needed answers. And she also needed to figure out what this thing between them really was.
Rose waited until they lay in semi-darkness in his bed. If he could not see her face, he might find it easier to talk.
"If Pearl is thirteen, you must have been a very young father," she said, holding her breath in anticipation. Would he open up and be honest, or would he answer with a joke as usual?
Jack was silent for so long Rose was on the verge of repeating her question. When he finally answered, his voice was bitter.
"I was sixteen. She wasn't exactly planned."
"Who is her mother?"
"A whore," he said flatly.
Was he trying to shock her? Perhaps he thought such language would make her too intimidated or disgusted to keep prying.
He ought to know by now she was not that easily daunted.
"Where is she now?" she asked calmly.
"Sleeping around, I suppose?"
"Jack... Stop this. I already met the girl – you took me there, it was your idea – and you must have realized I'd ask questions about her mother. Is it so bad to let me know things about you?"
"What's there to tell? She's still a prostitute as far as I know, and has no contact with Pearl."
"Why not?"
"It's a long story."
"I'm not going anywhere."
He sighed, finally giving in to her curiosity. "After she discovered she was pregnant we lived together at first. You know, playing house and all that. And it worked, for a while. But then the baby was born, and soon we had almost no money left. She hated that... We both did. Living like beggars when we were used to a good life, savvy? I got fed up with her constant whining about cash, and saw no other option than going back to sea." He rubbed his eyes tiredly. "I won't lie. I wanted that for me too. Piracy was what I did. What I was good at. Being a father was..." He broke off.
"So, what happened?"
"I returned as often as I could with money to support them. But one day when I came home, they were gone. She had taken Pearl and all our belongings and left."
"That's awful..." Rose's chest constricted with sympathy. What a horrible shock to return to an empty house.
"When I found her at last, she was back at the same brothel where she used to work. And I yelled at her, demanding she tell me what she'd done with Pearl – and at last she admitted she had left her outside the monastery. At their porch, hoping the nuns would take her in." His eyes had grown hard as flint when he spoke.
"But why? Why would she want to leave her baby and go back to that?"
"I guess she and I were rather alike. The old way of living was too tempting... We just couldn't stay away from it. The money, the fine clothes. The freedom."
Rose pondered this. Was that why he had never brought Pearl back from the nuns? He had continued his old life at sea – his pirate life – and never told her the truth about who he really was. Even to the extent where he had to sober up for a week just to come see her.
"What will you do when Pearl comes of age?" she asked. "You can't keep pretending forever, Johnny."
"Stop it." He poked her shoulder. "I don't know what I'll do then. Maybe I'll quit. But I said that many times... About many things."
Rose had a hunch she knew what he was talking about. Quitting the drink entirely must be a lot easier than going through this biannual torture, and it would probably make him a nicer person to be around as well.
"You could at least stop–"
"Spare me the lecture. Please."
"You don't even know what I was gonna say."
"I know what you were gonna say." He paused. "Rose, despite what people may think, I'm not stupid. I know I drink a tad too much."
"A tad? Dangerously much, I'd say."
Surprisingly, he didn't object. "Aye. The gutters of Tortuga are full of miserable wretches who only live for the bottle, and sooner or later they end up dead. Usually sooner. I'm not there yet, but I wouldn't be surprised if that's where I'll be eventually. Unless they hang me for piracy first." He closed his eyes. "Even now, I think of it. That first bottle, how I'll crack it open and take a long pull, savvy? The feeling of my senses slowly numbing."
Rose shook her head. It sounded horrible to her. "I guess it's fun to get drunk every once in a while, but all the time? What's the appeal?"
"Sober me is boring. Haven't you noticed?" He laughed mirthlessly. "Sober me worries. Regrets that I can't play house again, and be with my daughter like a real father. Feels guilt over all the things I've done."
"You don't like yourself?"
"No, I do like myself. I'm pretty amazing, actually." He smiled wryly in the dim light, and she knew he was completely honest.
"Arrogant bastard." She returned his smile. The butterflies from earlier that day were back. "I don't find you boring. I like sober you."
He touched her cheek lightly, serious again. "Thing is... Sober me looks at this beautiful woman next to me and wants to kiss her but... hesitates."
"Why?" Her breath caught. She suddenly wanted him to kiss her. Desperately.
"Because I'm no good for her. I'm too old. A thief and a killer. While she... she is kind and pure. I'd ruin her. And... I'd soon break her heart."
"Pure." She could not hold back a chuckle, and the tense mood lightened.
"Drunk me wouldn't care about those things and just go for it. No second thoughts. But sober me would offer her the chance to walk away before it was too late."
"And what would you do if she walked away?"
"Well..." His lips quirked up. "Honestly, I'd be surprised and rather disappointed."
She laughed at that, moving a little closer. "You're funny, Johnny. What would you do if she chose to stay?"
"First, I'd box her ear for calling me Johnny again. It's only slightly better than Jackie, which is what my dad calls me. Next, I'd kiss her thoroughly until her lips were swollen. And then I'd slowly undress her, lighting a candle so I could admire the view. When she was naked, I'd taste her with my lips and tongue, every inch of that very promising body."
"Even my toes?" Rose's heart beat faster. Hearing Jack speak like this was more arousing than having her portrait drawn by her Jack wearing only the Heart of the Ocean. Her other Jack, that was.
"Especially your toes, love. I'd suck them."
"Oh God..." She swallowed. "And then what?"
"You know what. You did it before."
"Well, yes. How can you tell?" Her cheeks became warm.
"Lucky guess." He smiled. "There was someone on that ship, was it?"
"Yes. He was named Jack, actually."
"A good, strong name."
"There must be something with men called Jack that appeals to me." She combed through his hair with her fingers, something which she had longed to do for so many days now. It felt just as smooth as she had imagined. Moving her fingers to cup his cheek, she met his gaze earnestly. "Look... You don't have to worry about my purity or ruining me. I may be younger than you but I'm not stupid either. I know this would only be temporary. Just... two people finding comfort in each other's... company."
His eyes had grown dark and large. "Only temporary. Right..." He swallowed.
A small voice within Rose tried to tell her nothing was ever that simple, but she smothered it. And then she stopped thinking entirely, and kissed him.
.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.
Rays from the rising sun streamed in through the open window, landing on Rose's face. She blinked tiredly, hiding her face in the nape of Jack's neck. He still smelled good. Soap, warm skin, and something masculine she couldn't define.
She nipped his skin, deciding he tasted good too.
"I'd better make you breakfast before I find myself on the menu of a cannibal again." Jack's eyes were still closed, framed by dark lashes.
"I'm hungry for something else." Rose let her fingertip trail across his flat stomach.
"I thought I'd worn you out yesterday." He yawned and stretched his arms. "I'm too old for this."
She snorted. "You're not old. And is it so strange I want to make the most of what little time we got left?" A thought struck her. "Do you think they do this kind of thing in the afterlife?"
"Probably not where you're going. There will be harp-playing, gathering flowers – that sort of thing. But you could always go down a few circles to where I'll be. I'm sure that place is much more decadent." He grinned wryly.
She tried to laugh but it caught in her throat. Soon she would die again, and this time there would be no pirates, no adventure, no making new friends... no Jack. Her eyes suddenly burned with tears.
He palmed her cheek, turning her face towards his, caressing it with his thumb. "Maybe you'll be an angel. You'll come back to save wretched scoundrels like me."
"I will." She wiped her eyes. "And I'll put in a good word for you, telling them you're loyal and loving towards your daughter and a good friend. There is a heart in there, somewhere." She placed her hand on the soft skin of his chest, smiling through her tears. "Like you said yourself – you're pretty amazing. You're a pretty amazing man, Jack."
He stared at her in surprise, and then quickly broke eye-contact. "You're deceiving yourself." His voice was harsh, and his face had a strange expression she could not quite interpret. Almost like he felt guilty.
"No, I'm not."
"I'm a bloody pirate and a scumbag, Rose. Don't do this." He hastily sat up. "Get dressed. It's time to return to the Barnacle."
A/N:
There will be no more out-of-character Jack for a while, in the next chapter he will be back as his familiar old drunk self, the one that we learned to love and... well, love. That will be nice. Or?
Thanks everyone who comments and votes on my story! You are gold! ♡♡♡