EVERYTHING’S NOT LOST
Chapter Sixteen

I had another strange dream last night. It was a mixture of two dreams into one…I recounted the poker game, only this time there were piles of money scattered throughout the room and on the table in front of me. Will was winning. No surprise, there, I suppose. The second part of the dream, or the mix was that we were standing in New York, on New York Harbor, playing poker between masses of people. It was really strange, either way. The almost livable part of the dream was when I realized I was wearing an engagement ring. I thought I was engaged to Harry, but it turned out, I was engaged to Ismay! I ended up, still on the New York Harbor, throwing the ring off the dock into the water and Ismay dove in after it. "You’ll have to pay for that!" he shouted at me before diving underwater. And that’s when I woke up.

The last thing I want to do today is go to the morning services. For goodness sake, it’s April 14th, already! Who would’ve thought that the days would be slipping away so fast. I want to hold onto them just a little longer. I can’t even imagine that in only a few days, I’ll be away of this hunk of iron. I just can’t imagine myself being away from Harry.

Now standing during the church services, I can barely keep my mind focused on the task at hand: singing. I know I can’t sing for the life of me, but I think it’s essential during these ship services. I’m not really sure. My father looks as if he doesn’t even really want to be here. I know I don’t want to be here, but shouldn’t he keep up his appearances, since he designed Titanic and all of her luster? He had been pouring over blueprints this morning and I had to pester him to hurry up so we wouldn’t be late. He was the one who originally wanted to go. I suppose men change their mind just as often, if not more often, than women.

I kept my eyes on the book with the hymns in front of me, barely even reading the words as I pretended to mumble along. I can’t stay focused. My mind just seems to be shooting off into a million directions. What did that creepy Ismay dream mean? I know it didn’t mean I was actually going to become Ismay’s wife! Even in the dream, he felt the need to eye me up and down. I can’t even escape the jerk—not even in my dreams.

To top off my incredible horrible morning, Ismay actually had the nerve to want to sit beside me during church. I didn’t want him next to me, especially after that awful dream, but I couldn’t explain to my father that his superior at the White Star Line seemed to stare at me inappropriately. Who knows what he might try to do, where his greasy hands were hidden behind the wooden pews. I shudder at the thought.

"Daddy," I had said sweetly before the service had began, "Can I sit at the end of the row?"

"Why, darling?" he had asked, with his usual puzzled, half-smile. I think he’s given up understanding me at this point.

"So we can leave," I whispered into his ear, gesturing to the doors leading to the exit outside He managed a laugh and agreed. As it is, I’ve had to lie to my father how many times now?

I’m still being forced to listen to this navy hymn. The Captain is leading the service at the head of the room, with most of the officers behind him to his right. Harry’s here, but I don’t see Will. Strange. I suppose someone needs to keep an eye on where we’re going, even during church. He kept stealing glances at me, with this slight smile. Every time I looked over, he looked at me, square in the eye, before looking away. I couldn’t help but smile back!

But, how can I sing with him watching? I had to fight the urge to start laughing, remembering the card game the night before, and remembering the exchanges of I love you it made my heart sort of—what’s the word? Flutter. Even worse, I have the urge to run up to him and hug him, planting a large kiss on his cheek.

As we reached the last verse of the hymn, for some strange reason, I felt the urge to start singing. Everyone around us was, even if they sounded awful—which Ismay really does…I’m surprised my ears aren’t bleeding by now…I found my place in the book in my hands and began to sing.

"O Trinity of love and power," I sang, "your children shield in danger’s hour; from rock and tempest, firs and foe, protect them wheresoe’er they go; thus, evermore shall rise to Thee, glad hymns of praise from land and sea."

We resumed our seats and I placed the hymn book back into its’ proper place. As the music faded away and the Captain began to speak, I locked my arm with my father’s. He glanced at me, smiling. I smiled back, unsure of what else to do. I glanced up from my hands to Harry, who still had the book in his hands. His eyes locked with mine and for what felt like such a long duration of time, I couldn’t look away. We just kept exchanging smiles, unsure of what else to do. I don’t think he can leave his spot behind the Captain and it would look awfully suspicious if he left, with me. "Imagine what everyone would say!" That would be my mother.

"Antoinette?" Whoever felt the need to say my name, I’m not answering. Not now. "Ann?" Harry looked away and the gaze we had going—the sweet, innocent looking back and forth was gone for the time being. I love him. I glanced to my right. "Ann?" he asked again. Oh, my father was talking to me. "What were you staring at?" he asked me.

"Nothing," I responded, quickly looking around my surrounding to see that everyone was beginning to leave. The Captain must’ve been wrapping up the services. I unlocked my arm with my father’s and stood up. He looked where I was staring. I could see out of the corner of my eye that Harry himself was just putting his hymn book back where he had found it. Harry looked over to where we were—not seeing my father staring at him, managed a smile at me. I tilted my head slightly in a nod.

My father glanced at me, having seen the nod, and then back at Harry. A smile appeared on his face, but I am not making eye contact with either of these men right now. I think the jig is up!

"Are we leaving or not?" I asked him as he stood up.

"Yes, yes, of course," he responded, beginning for the exit. We stood at the end of this sort of line, waiting for other first-class passengers to pass through the doorway. These people feel the need to walk very slowly—it must be the corsets, which I can understand completely.

I quickly looked over my shoulder and Harry was out of sight. The band was still packing away their instruments, but any sign of Titanic’s crew actually participating in this service was gone. They really know how to leave before the crowd. As we passed half-way through the doorway, I tugged on my father’s arm.

"So, am I free for the day?" I can’t believe I just asked him that!

"Well, Ann, I—"

"Mr. Andrews, could I possibly speak with you?" came a voice. It was a very well tailored-up man, dressed in his finest, who looked to be very polished, and had a woman hanging on his arm. Is that John Jacob Astor? He looks so familiar, I can’t place him. I just remember my mother discussing at dinner one night the fact that he would be on the ship and that he was quote-on-quote "the richest man on the ship." My father gave me this look as if he didn’t even want to deal with him, but managed a nod at the Astor character—or whoever he is. At this point, it’s anyone’s guess.

"Antoinette, just give me a minute, alright, sweetheart?"

"Sure." I unlocked arms with him as he disappeared in the crowd still leaving the service. I stood there, unsure of what to do, until I was pulled to the right of the doorway, rather harshly. Whoever it was, they turned me around to face them. Harry. I managed a giggle and he laughed a little himself. "Hello, stranger," I said, as he pulled me closer to the wall and away from the crowd, taking off his hat.

"Hello, Beautiful." He said that so sincerely, I wanted to hug him. I know this wasn’t the time or the place, but that was so…sweet. "I couldn’t even look away from you at the service all morning. I’m sure you noticed." I nodded. How could I not notice?

"Neither could I," I admitted softly.

"I think I’m going to Hell." I looked up from the floor to him, my eyes wide. "I couldn’t concentrate—I was too distracted by you." He paused, breaking a smile. "I could not believe how stunning you looked, this early in the morning. I didn’t think anyone could look that perfect." I managed a smile. He must’ve spent hours thinking up that line and as pathetic as it may sound to an outsider, it’s adorable.

"You know, you don’t have to flatter me to death!" I whispered between my teeth. I’m already too lost to pull myself back, anyway. He must realize that. Right?

"But, is it working?" he asked, with a smile.

"Absolutely."

"Could I see you again?" he asked me.

"What? What are you—"

"What I mean is: can we spend the day together? As long as you’re not busy…"

"I’ll have to check my planner," I joked, gesturing over my shoulder. "Who knows what my father has planned for me today. He wasn’t too happy about last night."

"The poker?"

"Oh, he has no idea about that." I smiled. "Let’s not mention it around him, alright?" He nodded.

"Agreed."

"He wasn’t all that pleased at how late I was out. There was a search party looking for me! He got scared, I think."

"…He sounds…very protective," he noted aloud.

"Paranoid is another good word to describe that." I paused, biting my lower lip. "Besides, what do you suppose we do?"

"Well, I didn’t necessarily think that far," he admitted. "Anything. As long as I’m with you, it doesn’t matter." He must’ve seen the look on my face before managing a laugh, nodding. "I’ll find something for us to do," he reassured me. He looked over my shoulder at the still-enormous crowd. "How about it, Ann? Wish to escape?"

"Desperately."

"Antoinette?" my father’s voice rang out through the crowd. I looked over my shoulder and there he was, talking to some other officer, one I can’t quite make out through the crowd. Oh, it’s Wilde.

"Where will you be?" I asked him as I let go of his hands. "We can figure something out."

"I’ll find you," he replied.

"Antoinette!" my father’s voice, clearly full of aggravation, called out once more, even louder this time.

"Until then," Harry decided, with a smile.

"Until then." I sighed, before beginning to push through the last few people of the crowd to reach my father. This room is only so big! How could all of those people fit inside? I finally managed to reach my father. Wilde had disappeared, which just leaves him. Ismay is nowhere to be seen, thank goodness.

"Ah, there you are honey," my father said, his voice trailing off as he took my arm. "You got lost in the shuffle there for a moment or so." He paused. "I thought we’d have lunch on the promenade deck before I start working. Those blueprints are a true horror. They’re not right, things must be fixed and—"

"Lunch sounds wonderful," I said simply. Was he planning on going on all day about it? "Why not with the others?"

"I don’t think I could take Bruce discussing boilers for a whole other meal," he said under his breath.

"Oh." I understand the aggravation. Ismay is such a pain with an enormous ego. And he’s a drunk. When those two qualities mix together, you end up with a cocktail of Bruce Ismay—all slurred together in an expensive suit. "Well, alright." I fought the urge to look over my shoulder, to see if Harry was gone or not.

"Great." My father and I ascended the stairs, him off in his own version of wonderland—and he thinks I daze? I looked over my shoulder, hoping to maybe catch one final glimpse of him. After a woman passed where we had been standing, blocking my view, I realized he was gone.

Chapter Seventeen
Stories