Chapter 4

"Jasper's Secret"

The next morning, Jasper woke up, and Rosemary was still curled up in his arms. He instantly smiled, and since he thought that she was still asleep, he took the liberty to kiss her hair. A few seconds later, Rosemary fondly said, “I felt that.”

Jasper’s cheeks burned with embarrassment, but she giggled and added, “It’s okay.”

He bit his lower lip and smiled at her. She stretched, then yawned. Every part of Jasper’s body tingled with excitement when she tucked his curls behind his ears and said, “What a handsome face you have. My goodness. Oh, and those eyes. So beautiful.”

He smiled and blushed like he had never blushed before. Rosemary giggled and added sweetly, “You blush a lot.”

“I know I do,” he replied shyly. She asked, “Why?”

“Well, any boy would blush a lot when their hair gets played with by a beautiful angel girl,” he replied fondly. Rosemary smiled and asked, “You think I’m beautiful?”

“I am not going to lie to you, Rosemary. You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen, and believe me, I have seen many women. They follow me everywhere I go.”

“I’m very shocked you don’t have a girlfriend,” she said. He replied, “I had many, many girlfriends in high school, so I’m kind of burned out on frivolous relationships. I’m waiting for the perfect girl for me.”

“That’s very smart,” Rosemary replied. He nodded, and their eyes locked. Jasper gazed into her electric eyes, and he desperately wanted to throw his arms around her and kiss her, but he restrained himself. His heart screamed for Rosemary.

The two walked downstairs and into the kitchen, and Rosemary squealed and ran over to the wooden dining table. On the table sat an empty jar of olives. Jasper smiled and said, “Grandfather Jasper strikes again.”

“Oh my God, Jasper! That is so crazy!”

“It sure is.”

They sat down and ate breakfast, and Rosemary wanted to know even more about Grandfather Jasper. Jasper told her everything he knew about him, and she was simply amazed. After breakfast, Jasper led her into the library. Above the fireplace was a large painting of a man who had black curly hair and a full beard. He looked similiar to Jasper with the exception of the beard, which Jasper did not have.

“This is me great-great grandfather,” said Jasper as he and Rosemary looked at the painting.

“Really? The one who’s haunting this house?” she asked. Jasper nodded and said, “He was a very regal man. He was incredibly sophisticated.”

They sat down in the library, and Rosemary asked, “Jasper, where are your parents? How come you live alone in this house?”

Jasper hesitated, then said sadly, “Me parents are dead.”

Rosemary gasped and covered her mouth with her hands.

“Oh Jasper, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to bring that up.”

“No, no,” he said. “It’s fine. They died five years ago the day before me sixteenth birthday. I took me girlfriend out for a date, and they went to a friend’s house for dinner. The house burned down because they had put something in the oven and forgot about it. They were all drunk, and they couldn’t get out of the house in time.”

Tears came to Rosemary’s eyes, and she stood up and engulfed Jasper in a hug.

“I am so sorry, Jasper,” she said sincerely. “You poor man. I am so sorry.”

“Thank you, Rosemary,” he sadly replied. When she let go of him and sat down again, she asked, “What did you do? You were so young.”

“Oh Rosemary, the moment I found out, something in me snapped. I was such a good child when I was younger. I was a terrific student, I was kind to everyone, and I promised me parents I would never drink or smoke. I completely changed on me sixteenth birthday. Me parents never liked me very much, for they thought that I was too odd for them. All their money was given to me mother’s brother, and I was left with nothing but me meager earnings from mowing grass.”

“Oh my God, Jasper. The day before your sixteenth birthday.”

Jasper nodded and said, “I celebrated by drinking me mother’s liquor and smoking me father’s cigars.”

“Did you cry?” Rosemary asked. Jasper replied, “I didn’t. I was just so frustrated. I didn’t know what I was going to do. I haven’t cried in, oh, probably six years or so.”

“Six years?” gasped Rosemary. “Jasper, everyone cries. Even the toughest of men cry. You don’t have to be ashamed.”

“I just don’t have that in me,” replied Jasper.

“Why not?” asked Rosemary, confused. Jasper shrugged and replied, “I have no idea. I’m as dry as a desert.”