EVERYTHING’S NOT LOST
Chapter Forty-Two
"Sleeping Beauty!
Antoinette!" I slowly opened one eye and then the other. I can see,
between strands of messy hair, Harry rushing through the doorway, holding
packages, boxes and bags galore. "You still asleep?" he asked, with a
large smile as he placed everything down on the floor, beside the bed.
"Ann?" He put a hand on my shoulder and I nodded, brushing my hair
back away from my eyes.
"Well, I was asleep," I
mumbled, putting my head back down on the pillow, snuggling closer to it, as I
pulled my blankets closer.
"Oh, come on, Antoinette,
get up. I got you something." He sounds completely winded as he gestured
to the packages around us.
"I see that," I noted
aloud. I managed a slight smile at him. Even though I’m half-asleep, I still
know when I should smile. One moment, he was here with me and now, I wake up
and as it turns out, he’s been gone all morning. He never mentioned where he
was going, but then again, I was passed out by then. My ankle had started to
hurt after our midnight conversation and after another one of those nice pills,
I was fast asleep.
"Were you going to sleep all
day?" he asked.
"That was the plan."
"I thought you wanted to go
to the trial!" he argued. That’s true. I would like to go. If nothing
else, I’d like to know who’s going to testify. I’m sure Ismay will testify
eventually—he does have such a high position at the White Star Line, after all.
Why, if Ismay were to testify, he wouldn’t be able to lie on the stand. I
sighed. He probably would, even under oath. The scum bag. Either way, I’d like
to be there. I want to see who testifies, who says what—and who may lie.
"Plans change," I
mumbled. I don’t think he heard me, merely because he didn’t say anything to
rebuttal the comment.
"Anyway," he said,
sitting down beside me, pulling me up from the bed with a smile and a kiss,
"good morning." Well, that woke me up.
"Morning."
"So…" He took one of
the many boxes from the floor, this one rather large and handed it to me.
"I got this for you. Actually—" He gestured to all the piles of
wrapped packages, "I got all of this for you."
"Harry, you didn’t." He
smiled.
"Yes, I did. Why not open
this one first?" I looked down at the box in my hand. "Go on, go on,
open it." I hesitated, but opened up the lid of the box, much to my better
judgment—after seeing the expression on Harry’s face. He looks so excited, he
really does. I placed the lid down beside me and unfolded the tissue paper in
the box. Oh. My. It’s a dress. A beautiful…I took it out of the box—a beautiful
afternoon dress. It’s made of complete silk and it’s completely dyed pink,
white, purple, blue, and has lace and slight beading on the bodice. "So,
what do you think?" I smiled.
"Oh, Harry—It’s so
beautiful!" I hugged him tightly, holding up the dress for even closer
inspection. He even got my size right. "But…" He laughed, rubbing his
face.
"There’s always a but…"
"How did you ever find out
my size?" He smiled.
"A man never reveals his
secrets!" I held up the dress to me. "And it’s your color. I thought
it might suit you. The woman in the store said it was completely in fashion,
all the rage—" I shook my head, putting a finger to his lips.
"I adore it."
"Really?" he asked,
skeptical. I nodded.
"Really."
"I thought I’d bring the
clothing to you, since you’re immobile for the time being. I thought you
deserved to get out of that dress, it looks like it’s ready to fall
apart." He can even read minds. Oh, I love this man.
"And that is very much
appreciated." I folded the dress back up, and put it to the side as Harry
shoved a few more packages back into my lap.
"Open the smaller one
first," he urged, pointing to a small box on the top of the pile.
"You know," I began,
"I already love you. You don’t have to give me things to make me love
you!"
"I like buying things for
you." No doubt he does! I can’t even count how many packages and bags are
in here, there are so many.
"But, I love, love…really
love you," I said, batting my eyelashes as I put my forehead to his. He
smiled.
"And I really, really like
getting things for you."
"I’m going to put you in the
poorhouse," I warned as I opened up the little box, wrapped up in red
ribbon. I took off the top and sitting there, in a cushion was a dragonfly hair
comb. I carefully lifted it out of the box and held it towards the light. It’s
six-barred and the dragonfly’s wings seem to be stain-glassed, blue and green.
The outer wings are blue, the inner wings are green, while the dragonfly’s body
itself is made of a turquoise blue marble. It’s lovely. "I’ve never seen
anything like this," I told him. He smiled.
"It looked a little bit like
the hair comb I saw you wearing the day we met." How sweet was that? I
looked up momentarily from the comb to him, and he still has that goofy smile
on his face. I can’t help but keep a smile on myself. What’s there not to be
happy about? I’m engaged. "I thought you liked them, so…" He gestured
to the piece of jewelry in my hand. Whatever hair comb it was, the one I wore
on Titanic, it’s gone now. I can’t even remember what it was or how it looked,
but I know I wore it maybe twice the whole time I ever owned it. And Harry
remembered it.
"I love it. You’ve got good
taste…for a seaman."
"Was there a compliment
hidden in there?" he asked with a smirk.
"Take it as you want."
"Well, I take it as a
compliment." I shrugged as he took one box from my left and handed it to
me. "I thought this was perfect, too." I hesitated, but opened the
box to see yet another dress. This one’s definitely more formal, a morning
dress, a church dress—unlike the other silk creation.
"Harry…" I don’t even
want to touch it, it looks so delicate. "It’s gorgeous!" I smiled at
him. "You have to stop yourself when you shop!"
"I wasn’t sure what you
would like—so if I saw something…"
"So, if you saw something,
you just bought it?" He nodded.
"I guess you could say
that." He pointed to the dress. "You know, I thought this would be
perfect for today."
"Today?" I laughed.
"Harry, I’m staying here today. In bed. Where I belong, remember?" He
remembers hair combs, but not the conversation we had last night? Selective
memory, that’s what he has.
"Well, don’t you want to go
to the trial?"
"If my ankle wasn’t
all—" He pointed to the crutches, before smiling.
"Yet another reason I wanted
that doctor to come. Crutches, Ann. Crutches are the answer to your
problem!"
"You want me to go?" I
questioned, with a raised eyebrow.
"Don’t you want to?"
"Well, I did…"
"So, we’ll go."
"But, what about our plan,
my mother, that should be fun…"
"I see it as this: You want
to go, I’m going to be there. Why not?" I smiled.
"You want me to be your arm
candy, don’t you?" I asked, with a raised eyebrow.
"Having you with me would be
make this experience much more pleasant, I’ll admit…"
"You want to show off my
ring, don’t you?"
"I need to have
something!" he laughed.
"Harry, to be honest, my
ankle hurts and—" He automatically could tell I was lying. All I want to
do right now is go back to bed, damn it!
"You chickening out on me
now?" he asked, with a smile. I shook my head.
"No." Even though I
want to go, I don’t know if I could face all of those people. And Titanic.
Titanic. My father. Will. I don’t know if I can handle it. Besides, this bed is
so nice and warm…
"Ann?" I looked up from
the box in my lap to him. "You don’t have to go," he said softly,
"I’d understand if you don’t want to—" He paused, breaking into a
smile. "But, you’d get to see Bruce Ismay."
"What’s so great about
that?" I mumbled. "He’s a jerk."
"Well, sure, he’s a
jerk…"
"And a lying, cheating
scumbag—" He laughed.
"Yes, but he’s our jerk. We
always find something to talk about when he’s around. Who knows what
shenanigans he may pull at this…" He cupped my chin in his hand.
"Come now, Antoinette. It’s a beautiful day out there. The sun may do us
both some good." How badly does he really want me there?
"I doubt he’ll even be
there," I sighed. "We can only pray for such joys."
"Oh, he’ll be there. He is,
after all, so high up on the White Star Line corporate ladder." He
imitated Ismay going up the corporate ladder with his hand on the bed, making
his way towards my hand. He took it, fixing my ring. "It could be interesting,
if nothing else."
"I don’t have to do
anything, do I?" I asked him.
"Just be your wonderful
self." Oh, sure, that should be easy. In theory. "But, if we’re going
to go, you need to get ready. We’ve got to be there for ten. And it is
now—" He glanced down at his watch, the watch that wasn’t even right for a
little while on ship. "Nine-thirty!"
"You’re kidding!" It
takes me at least half an hour to get dressed. Then again, that was with Mary.
Mary. I wonder if she’s okay, what she’s doing, what’s going on with her…
"I wish I was!" He
dropped my hand and stood up, beginning to rustle through the packages.
"Okay, okay, coat, shoes…" He placed box after box on the bed. How
does he expect me to get out of bed with all of these boxes blocking my exit?
"Harry, I can figure it
out," I attempted to reassure him, trying not to laugh at his frantic
behavior. "I can figure out what goes with what—"
"We’ve got to get a move
on!"
"Alright, okay, don’t
panic…" I moved the boxes to my right as he continued to shuffle through
the packages, pushing the blankets off of me. He didn’t notice when I stood,
except for when I fell on top of him. In one swift movement, he caught me and I
was safe.
"Careful," he warned.
"Well, you said, get a move
on!" I exclaimed.
"I didn’t mean I wanted you
to break another body part." He smiled at me, placing his hands on my
waist, pulling me in closer to him. I kissed him on the cheek.
"We better hurry," I
said simply. "Don’t want to miss any Bruce Ismay catastrophes."
"They don’t give brandy out
at things like this, do they?" he asked me, smirking.
"Not this early in the
morning, my friend." I kissed him. "Not this early. Then again."
Another kiss. "Cigars are universal."