EVERYTHING’S NOT LOST
Chapter Ten

I walked down the first-class corridor in a complete daze. Did I dream that or did what just happen—actually happen? I slapped my palm to my forehead…Yes, it did happen! My mother, if she had a grave, she would be rolling in it—if she only knew. Harold Lowe had managed to drag me up through the dining hall and into the first-class, without being caught by Bruce Ismay over broken china and we…kissed. I don’t know anything about this man, but I already want to kiss him again! I think I just threw being a lady out the window.

I need to focus. What room do I belong in, again? A…A…A32. Oh, that’s it! I glanced to the door to my left. A35. I went too far. I turned, and checking each door, I finally found where I’m supposed to be. I turned the doorknob, expecting it to be locked, but was pleasantly surprised. It opened with ease. My father must still be up.

I opened the door as quietly as I could, without barely making a sound—not from the door and I tiptoed on my shoes so they wouldn’t click. As I walked in, I realized how dark it was. My father must be asleep. It’s either that or he’s in his study. Let’s hope he’s asleep. I shut the door silently, leaning against it.

Sighing, I began to laugh. I can’t believe tonight! It’s all too unbelievable to even be true—I suppose it’ll just stay between us, and as awkward as it should seem, it doesn’t feel awkward. Not to me. To Harry, it may be extremely awkward, but I personally think it was endearing. I brushed my hair out of my eyes as I continued to giggle.

No more tea at night for me! That’s decided—he must’ve put something in it, such as liquor, because I feel so loopy, so lopsided. I have no idea of what I’m doing, laughing in a dark sitting room. Well, it was dark—until the lights flickered on.

"Antoinette." My father. He looks just as awake as he had been at dinner. I couldn’t control my laughter!

"Hi, Daddy," I said, trying to control my case of the giggles. He smiled at me.

"What’s so funny?"

"Oh, nothing." I took a step away from the door I was using as my wall and took off my gloves, throwing them onto the mantle.

"You seem to be in a very bubbly mood," he noted aloud curiously. He must think something had to have happened—and he is right, but I can’t actually tell him that.

"The cold can do wonders," I responded casually. "Well…" I gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. "I’m off to bed." I began for my bedroom when my father took my wrist.

"Don’t you want me to call for Mary?" I giggled.

"Mary—what for?"

"To help you out of that dress." He smiled, stifling a chuckle. "Did you want to sleep in that all night? You’ll have bead imprints all over you!"

"Oh, Mary, right…" He raised an eyebrow at me. "Mary, you—you, uh, you should call her." He nodded, looking somewhat confused.

"Alright." I began to fiddle with my hair, but I can barely reach my arms over my head because of the corset. I went to the mantle and using the mirror as my guide, I attempted in vain to take out the various bobby pins that were holding my remaining hair in place. Most of it had fallen out of its’ do, even with the bobby pins, from the Ismay chase. Oh, excuse me: the Ismay and Ismay’s moustache chase. I laughed at that.

"Ann…" Ismay! I hope he never finds out it was Harry and I who broke the White Star Line property. He already gawks at me enough, Ismay—and he is creepy, with a really creepy grin. Just the thought! "Antoinette?" I turned around, hearing my father’s voice. Is he talking? I’m not even listening. Then again, that’s not all that surprising. "You’re humming."

"What?" I am not humming.

"You’re humming," he repeated. I rolled my eyes at his reflection in the mirror above the mantle.

"I am not." I almost began to hum again, but I stopped myself. I am humming! I’m acting like a complete moron. What am I doing?

"You were," my father corrected.

"Sure I was," I replied with a short laugh. I must’ve been humming, after all. I don’t recall humming—but my father wouldn’t lie to me about something as silly as that.

"You haven’t hummed that tune in months." I glanced over my shoulder at him before returning back to my reflection.

"What tune?"

"I can’t remember the name of it. You always hum it when you’re happy. I’m not sure why…" Oh, that tune! Yes, that tune, the same song my mother said was completely inappropriate for me to be humming to. "Women who hum are not ladies, Antoinette," my mother would say as she took her short sips of tea. "You shouldn’t be humming at home or anywhere else." I suppose it’s just a habit I have re-inherited. But, I suppose I can blame my mother for me actually learning the song to begin with. I had to deal with it for months when I was learning piano and it just stuck.

"The song that I used to play on the piano?" The only song I could play on the piano is more like it. He nodded.

"That one." He smiled at me, still puzzled. "Antoinette, is there something wrong, honey?" I whirled around. He knows!

"Why, why would there be anything wrong?" I asked, trying not to sound as nervous as I actually was.

"You’re acting peculiar…"

"Daddy," I cut him off, "there’s nothing wrong." I think something’s right for a change. "Did you call for Mary?" I asked, attempting to change the subject.

"What?" He paused. "Oh, Mary. Yes, I’ll go call for her." He turned on his heel, but stopped. "We’re not done discussing this." I managed a laugh.

"Dad." I never call him Dad. If this doesn’t make him strap me down into a chair and somehow pull the information out of me, nothing will. "I’m fine." It’s easier to lie at this point. I may just be giddy, this whole stupid event tonight—I may have blown it completely out of proportion, but it was fun. I haven’t laughed that sincerely since…since last night, when I was with Harry again. Interesting. Sure, it makes no sense, but it’s got to. If not now, it has to make some sense…eventually.

"Mary said she’d be a few minutes," my father said, stepping back into the sitting room. I hadn’t even realized he had left and already come back. I’m losing it. I was too wrapped up in my own thoughts to even know what’s going on around me. I turned to my father, with the few bobby pins I could get out of my hair in my hand.

"That’s fine. Well, I’ll be in my room…" I gave him a kiss on the cheek.

"Ann, I—"

"Can’t I be happy for one moment without you questioning it?" I asked, breaking a smile. He smiled, gently touching my cheek.

"It’s not that. I love seeing you smile, I really do. I haven’t seen you like this for months. Try to stay like this, would you? I know it would make both your mother—and me, very happy." I want to tell him it’s temporary, but I feel as if I’m floating on air as it is. I’m not in the mood to break anyone’s spirits. "Especially me."

"I can try," I said in all sincerity.

"That’s all I ask." He sighed. "Good-night, Antoinette."

"Night, Daddy." I brushed past him and opening the door to my bedroom, I picked up my dress’s train and walked in, shutting the door behind me. I leaned against the door, like I had done when I first made it back to my suite, but—Oh! I sighed happily, slowly but surely sliding down to the carpeted floor.

Tonight was wonderful. I am completely giddy about it! I know I’m probably overly happy about it, but Harold Lowe seems to be wonderful. I need to learn more about him, I know, but he seems so—perfect. It seems as if I’m not even worthy of him. He does seem to enjoy my company, but at this point, I’m not sure of anything.

I laughed to myself again, realizing how childish I was being. I’m acting like a little girl who just got a new dollhouse for no apparent reason! But, if this said dollhouse was Harold Lowe, maybe any other girl in my shoes would be acting even more loopy. Now, I can’t be sure if I’m infatuated or…of if I’m actually falling for someone like Harold Lowe.

Chapter Eleven
Stories