Author's Notes: I think I've rewritten this story over three times now. I've been trying to get it right for so long. I have always wanted to revisit the family of Jack and Rose I created over 5 years ago.
This is the sequel of Lacy and Stained.

Somewhere Special in Time

May 29th, 1922
Miles City, Montana

The windows of the classroom had been pushed open to allow the warm draft of summer to waft in. Fresh mountain air breezed through the room, rustling papers secured under weights and making some pencils roll across the vacant tables where the students had been only days before taking their final exams to mark the end of the school year. Only a few skys drifted through the wide open blue sky and in the distance, the purple mountains stood majestically, proudly encasing Miles City in their protection.

Thirty-one year old Jack Dawson lowered himself into a stiff school chair before his son's teacher's desk, Mrs. Lipton. The roots of Jack's once spectacular blond hair had grown more ashen over the years, but still, his hair boyishly fell in layers over his head, resembling his care-free nature that never left him despite the decade that had passed. He adjusted the rolled sleeves on his elbows and made sure his suspenders were sitting straight on his shoulders as he leaned his cane against her desk, ready to hear about Charlie Jack Dawson's yearly report. Jack rubbed at his knee sorely, wishing he had brought some of his pain medication with him. It had been nearly four years since the Great War, but Jack's knee injury due to shrapnel would plague him for the rest of his life.

Mrs. Lipton was busy shuffling papers about, shifting through student after student. Jack and Rose had had high hopes for the new young teacher being apart of Charlie's academic growth. She had come from New York City with high regards and the parents were certain it would be just what Charlie needed to finally find his passion in school. Mrs. Lipton smiled politely at Jack as she finally came across nine year old Charlie's report.

"So," Jack finally said, letting out a short huff as he straightened his back in his chair, "how'd my boy do, Mrs. Lipton?"

"Well, I will preface with saying, Mr. Dawson, that I did thoroughly enjoy having Charlie in class this year," Mrs. Lipton grinned, folding her hands atop her meticulously filed papers, "He is quite the king of outdoors. It was always fun to see what kind of bugs he could find during recess. However, I wish I could have gotten Charlie more excited about being in the classroom, rather than outside of it," Mrs. Lipton handed a paper across the desk to Jack, "These are his final marks."

Jack scanned down the report card:

English: C

History: C+

Math: D

Science: B-

Jack heaved a sigh, suffering a wave of déjá vu from Charlie's teacher last year, Mr. Kendrick. Charlie's marks hadn't much improved from last year, either Jack was pleased to see at least one B on the report card. He looked over the top of the paper at Mrs. Lipton, "Was he a discplinary problem?"

"No, nothing like that," Mrs. Lipton waved her hand dismissively, "He's a good boy, Mr. Dawson. His attitude is not uncommon for a squirmy nine year old. I was hoping at least one section of lessons would appeal to him, but he often doodled through lectures, and actually," Mrs. Lipton reached for a folder filed behind her desk, "His final math test is what brought his grade down so low. He left an entire page unanswered but did this on the back."

Mrs. Lipton withdrew the stapled test, holding it out towards Jack. Jack analyzed Charlie's sloppy chicken scratch handwriting, noting his poor display of work that was supposed to be shown for full credit. Jack slowly thumbed through the test, Mrs. Lipton's red X's glaring at him. When he made it to the final page, he could see Charlie attempting to work out the first problem, but it ended there and all the other questions were left unanswered. Jack flipped the page over to see quite a magnificent sketch of the empty school yard with the mountains in the distance. Jack could tell Charlie had drawn it by eye out the window, doing anything to distract himself from his real work. Charlie had shown great interest and promise in landscapes, but Jack was too displeased with Charlie's performance in school to appreciate his well-done sketch.

"It's hard to keep his attention," Mrs. Lipton continued, glancing towards her notes, "He likes to chat, he likes to cook up ways to get other student's off-task. He likes a good laugh, a good prank; he thoroughly enjoys interacting with his classmates. I can tell he is a social creature and I feel that is the most disruptive to his attention overall and why, I think, he did so poorly this year."

"Will he able to advance to the next grade?" Jack asked, returning the test to her.

"Oh, certainly," Mrs. Lipton nodded as she returned the test folder to it's rightful place, "Charlie is bright, I know he is. He likes to take things apart and try to put them back together. I think he has a lovely spirit. I don't see any reason why he shouldn't advance, though, keep in mind, teacher's of higher grade levels may not be forgiving as me."

"I see... thank you for the report, Mrs. Lipton," Jack nodded, "I appreciate everything you've told me."

"I think Charlie could really benefit from an arts or engineering summer course," Mrs. Lipton said, "The local museum offers an engineering program for children his age and the local parks put on art camps during the day. Might be worth looking into."

"I'll mention something to my wife," Jack replied as he stood and collected his cane, leaning against it to off-set the searing pain he felt in his knee, "Thanks again, Mrs. Lipton. I hope you have a nice summer."

"The pleasure was all mine," Mrs. Lipton also stood, reaching across the desk to shake Jack's hand, "Best of luck to Charlie. I'm rooting for him."

...

Just down the hallway, Rose was meeting with eleven year old Valentina's teacher, Mr. Herz. He was an older gentlemen who hailed from southern California where he used to teach as a professor on the college level in theology. Wanting a more relaxed life to settle into, he had moved to Miles City years ago and taught on the elementary level, finding he loved it more than his original position. He was a progressive man, polite, and always wore gold bifocals on the perch on his thick nose. Rose shook his hair gingerly and seated herself. At twenty-nine years old, the years had been good to Rose Dawson. With the hectic life of her literary career and raising two children, Rose had opted to keep her curly hair short, just allowing it to rest on her shoulders.

"Mrs. Dawson," Mr. Herz grinned behind his bushy moustache, "this is the parent meeting I've been looking forward to all week! I have been waiting for the longest time to express how much I have thoroughly enjoyed having Valentina in my class this year."

Rose beamed with pride, bucking up straight in her chair. She crossed her feet at her ankles, setting her hands into her laps. Nothing pleased Rose more than to hear people brag on the behalf of her children, especially her Valentina. She was an absolutely over-achiever and Rose loved everything that Valentina put herself into. Mr. Herz shifted through his papers, which were not nearly as organized as his colleague, Mrs. Lipton. When he found what he was looking for, his grin grew wider, and he passed the paper across the desk to Rose. When Rose took it into her hands, she realized it was Valentina's report card. Mr. Herz had drawn a giant smiley face up in the right hand corner.

English: A+

History: A++

Math: A-

Science: A

Rose grinned when she saw the marks, that's my girl. She looked back to Mr. Herz as he reshuffled his papers and prepared himself for his verbal report to Rose. Rose couldn't help but get lost in thought with all the possibilites that awaited Valentina as she climbed and excelled in her academics. Everything her daughter did, she put her heart completely into it, whether it was her least favorite subject or practicing her trumpet for her jazz quartet.

"Now, Mrs. Dawson, since we're in private, I feel I can say this," Mr. Herz folded his hands together, "I can easily say that Valentina has been one of my most favorite students. I'd say she is brighter than any thesis student I've met before. I have exquistely enjoyed having Valentina in my class this year. I'm sad that she's moving on to another teacher come August. I wish I could teach students like Valentina all the time," Rose's heart swelled with each word coming out from beneath Mr. Herz bushy moustache, "She is highly engaged at all times. Valentina comes prepapred every day, was never late in turning assignments in, and all her observations and participation in class more than exceeded my expectations. That girl has a future in anything she wants to do."

"Wow, Mr. Herz, I am just so happy to hear that," Rose grinned, lowering the report card to her lap, "I guess I shouldn't be so surprised. You've described her just as she is at home. We never worry about her. I was concerned the new jazz quartet she joined would interfere with her studies, but I am so pleased to hear she was attentive for you."

"She was more than attentive," Mr. Herz nodded, "And I must say, her long hand is just spectacular. Look at this essay she wrote me about the American Revolution."

He passed a paper clipped two page essay to Rose and she was quite surprised to see Valentina had progressed into writing dainty and loopy cursive. It was almost as good as Rose's despite two decades of practice. Rose grinned as she glanced over Valentina's well thought out and cohesive statements, admiring her tall T's and her graceful L's. Rose was proud to know the caligraphy books Valentina had requested last Christmas were being put to good use.

"Whatever parenting style you're using, don't stop," Mr. Herz told her, quite pleased himself as Rose returned the essay to him, "I am aware that Valentina has a younger brother. I look forward to opportunity to teach him in the coming years."

Rose's grin fell slightly crooked at the comment. Charlie was as bright as his sister, but his ability to apply himself was severely lacking. Getting Charlie to do his homework in a timely manner was nearly as hard as pulling teeth. He zoomed through his work in an attempt to return to the great outdoors, his model train, and tin car collection faster. Getting him to re-do the work to be acceptable was nearly impossible. Rose would have more luck taming a lion than getting Charlie to fully immerse himself in his studies. Books had his nose upturned, literary clubs had him snoozing, and any extra time he had to spend confined to the classroom walls were pure torture. Still, deep inside, Rose clung to the hope that her husband was having as pleasant of a teacher meeting that she was having.

"Yes, Charlie," Rose finally said, nodding her head, "He's two grades behind Valentina."

"I know I'll be thrilled if I see another Dawson on my roster, that's a guarantee."

"It's been an immense pleasure having you teach my daughter this year," Rose reached across the table and gently touched his wrist, "I appreciate you nuturing her. I really do."

"I have great visions for that girl," Mr. Herz replied, gently patting Rose's hand, "And trust me, I don't think anything could stop her."

...

Rose met Jack at the front foyer of the school. He was sitting on a bench with his bad leg extended. Just above his head, there was a drooped banner that read HAVE A GREAT SUMMER written across it. Rose slowly entered the quiet foyer where only a few other parents lingered. When Jack spotted Rose, he hopped to his feet and they left the school, slowly meandering onto the street. Together, they rustled their report cards out and held them side by side to compare.

"Well... the only improvement I've noticed is an interest in science," Rose said, shaking her head.

"I guess that Anicent Rome club Valentina joined at the library is really helping her in history," Jack remarked. They both lowered their report cards, "What did Mr. Herz have to say."

"Good things, as usual," Rose said as she bumped shoulders against Jack while they walked slowly, "Highly motivated, never misses a deadline, exceeds all expectations. Any news on Charlie's front?"

"Well," Jack let out a sigh as they stepped up on a curb, "Mrs. Lipton really liked him. Called him the King of Outdoors, so that's something. But otherwise, nope. Another year of slacking and being distracted. His mind seems to be up in the mountains."

"We need to find out what really interests him, Jack," Rose told him adamantly, "Maybe this B in science could be leading to something."

"Mrs. Lipton actually offered an engineering club for kids at the library or a summer art camp," Jack shrugged, "I say art camp, but we should talk to Charlie. If we can get something to hold his attention for an entire summer, it will be a miracle."

"I haven't seen Charlie drawing at home in weeks," Rose said, "Have you checked in on that?"

"I had no idea," Jack arched his eyebrows, "His teacher showed me his papers chock full of wonderful still-life doodles."

"Seems to me like drawing is just something he does when he's really bored in school," Rose shrugged, "Maybe he doesn't want to do art. Maybe engineering is the right way."

"Let's just talk to Charlie first," Jack looked to her, "He's got a talent for art, Rose. I don't want him to ignore that."

"Maybe Valentina could help him," Rose suggested.

"Well, that's just setting us up to be playing firefighter all night, don't you think?"

The couple continued on towards the last street corner that would steer them in the direction of their neighborhood. Rose laced her fingers towards Jack and grinned, helping him descend the small stoop in the curb. Jack smiled sheepishly as their neighborhood came into view.

...

The Dawson home was quiet. All the curtains were drawn back, some windows left open. The house was bathed in natural light, which was Rose's preference. The countertops were surprisingly clean. Charlie hadn't left any peanut butter smudges behind. Only a few neglected dishes laid piled in the base of the porcelain sink. After a few moments, a trumpet filled the house, echoing down the hallways and sneaking out the windows. Just upstairs, the bedroom on the left across the hall from Charlie's was Valentina's room. Several vintage jazz posters were pinned to the walls, along with newspaper clippings of her own performances in the Miles City jazz scene. Her bed was made, her writing desk beneath the picture window overlooking the backyard was relatively organized. In the center of the room, on her circular rug made of bright pinks and blues, Valentina stood with her trumpet perched upwards and her music stand wobbling in front of her.

At eleven years old, Valentina was nearly an inch taller than her classmates. She was slender with long arms. She wore her dark hair in french braids running down her back. Today she had chosen a green and white plaid short-sleeved dress with a matching green silk waistband. She was wearing white stockings with black buckle-over shoes. Fixed in her braids were matching green bows. Valentina watched her sheet of music intently, being sure no notes were left unplayed. Her audition for the Miles City Junior Orchestra was approaching rapidly. For the last two years, she had been apart of the orchestra, placing in chair six out of eight. This year, Valentina was absolutely determined to be in the top four chairs. The moment the sheet of music requested for audition appeared in the mail, Valentina practiced in majority of her free time. She was nearly sick of the piece but still, she persisted in being sure she knew it better than anything in her life.

Her brother appeared in the doorway, leaning against the threshold and dangling his arm back and forth. Charlie watched Valentina play for a moment before he wandered into her room. He strolled over to her bookcase and pulled down a small origami swan a friend had given her. Immediately, Valentina's trumpet notes faltered and she lowered her instrument.

"Please put that back, it's fragile," Valentina said.

Charlie did as he was told and turned to his sister, jamming his hands into his pockets. His hair was uncombed and fell all over his forehead. It wouldn't be long before his mother would be chasing him down with a pair of scissors or his dad convincing him to go out for "ice cream".

"Did you want something?" Valentina asked.

"No... I'm just bored," Charlie huffed, "I haven't seen any of my friends on the normal bike paths. Maybe we could go do something?"

"Sorry, I gotta practice," Valentina told him, gesturing towards her music stand, "I'm sure Ross is down at the fishing hole. It's the afternoon, isn't it? It's probably nice and cool."

"He hasn't been there since school let out," Charlie shrugged uselessly.

"Well, we have nearly an entire library down the hall," Valentina suggested, "Mom has picture books, too. Some are really nicely done in watercolor."

"That sounds boring," Charlie deadpanned, flashing his green eyes at her.

"Why don't you draw? Daddy just got that new box of colored pencils."

"No... I don't wanna do that either," Charlie heaved a sigh and walked a few paces, "I don't find much enjoyment in just drawing. I'd rather be out doing something else."

"Well, if you hop on your bike you're bound to run into someone."

"Alright, then," Charlie shrugged and walked towards the door, "See you later."

...

Jack and Rose returned not long after that with full intent to have a sit-down with Charlie. When they walked up the cobblestone path on their front lawn, Jack cursed, rousing Rose's attention over her shoulder at him.

"His bike is gone," Jack said, shaking his head, "We'll have to wait to talk to him."

"Okay, we can't just let this go," Rose nodded, turning towards Jack, "We have to talk to him after dinner tonight. No work arounds, no wiggling out of it, no forgetting. This is important Jack."

"Oh, I know," Jack agreed, "Rose, this is all too much like me when I was a kid. I liked to push the boundaries. I liked to drive my parents crazy. They didn't deserve it, but I was a kid. But it comes to a dangerous point, a slippery slope, where his actions will start affecting other people. I want to put this fire out once and for all."

"Alright," Rose replied, "We're in agreeance. After dinner."

"After dinner."