EVERYTHING’S NOT LOST
Chapter Forty-Seven
"What are we waiting
for?" I glanced from the metal elevator gates to Harry, raising an
eyebrow. What? What are we waiting for? I was waiting for him, first and
foremost—and now that he’s done being interrogated, we’re going back to the
hotel, so I can rest and take the pressure off of my ankle. Although I have to
admit, I was enjoying Lightoller’s stories about Harry, and every little
embarrassing thing that happened to him. He just had to pull me away from that.
"Uh, the elevator?" I
told him.
"No, no," he said,
shaking his head. He then smiled. "What are we waiting for to get
married?"
"Well…" my voice
trailed off when I realized nothing really is holding us back from getting
married. "Nothing." He smiled.
"Exactly!"
"Harry, what are you even
talking about—" The elevator came up from the bottom floors and the
operator opened up the black metal gate as Harry helped me inside. The operator
locked the gate, shaking it slightly to make sure it was shut, before turning
to us.
"Up or down, folks?" he
asked, with a sweet smile.
"To the lobby," Harry
said simply. He nodded and pressed a few buttons and we slowly but surely began
to make our way down to the first floor of the hotel and the sooner, the
better. I wonder if I gave him a tip, could he make the elevator go faster? As
it is, I hate these kinds of elevators, the ones that you can see outside of,
as you’re traveling up and down. They’re just like the elevators on Titanic and
they kind of scare me. The fear of the unknown. "What I’m saying is
this." Harry cleared his throat and I glanced up at him. "We have
nothing holding us back from getting married, why not just take the
plunge?" I looked over momentarily at the elevator operator, whose acting
as if he isn’t listening, but I know he is.
"Must we discuss this
now?" I hissed between clenched teeth.
"When should we discuss
it?" I have no idea. He took my hands. "Antoinette, this is the
United States. People get married all the time!"
"Harry, it’s not that…"
"Then, what is it?" I
brushed hair from my eyes.
"I just think it’s a little
early, don’t you?"
"Molly had a point,
engagements should be short—"
"It hasn’t even been
twenty-four hours!" I exclaimed.
"So, what?" he asked, a
smile still on his face. I stared at him, unsure.
"You’re serious, aren’t
you?" He nodded.
"Unless you’d like to inform
your family of our impending nuptials," he said, somewhat sarcastically. I
rolled my eyes.
"Thanks, but no
thanks."
"Besides, I thought we
wanted the wedding to be small." I nodded, remembering our conversation
from last night. That’s something we both agreed on. No planning, no
worrying—"With as few people as possible." I grinned at him for
adding that in as he winked at me. "It’s not like I have to inform my
family."
"True."
"That would take time,"
he said, his voice trailing off.
"If I may make a
suggestion…" The operator. We both turned to face him and he turned
beet-red. "If you’re looking to get married quickly, City Hall has judges
of the court who are willing to marry anyone with a proper license."
"A license?" I
questioned, confused. I had no idea you needed a license to get married. Who
thought of that rule? I shot a look at Harry, who shrugged a shoulder. I
suppose this license procedure is new. The operator nodded.
"…Which a town clerk can get
you."
"At City Hall?" Harry
asked. He nodded.
"For a small fee, of course,
but a justice of the peace is always around to marry you. The courts, you know,
are so backed up and—" The elevator stopped and he quickly unlocked the
gates for us.
"Well, thank you," I
said sincerely, stepping out of the elevator. Thank you for giving him ideas,
you jerk.
"No problem, Miss."
Harry stepped out of the elevator after saying something inaudible to him and
shook his hand. "Any time, any time!" the operator exclaimed. With
that, he shut the gate and went up, probably back to where we were.
"Harry, we are not doing
that today," I told him sternly as we began to make our way towards the
exit.
"Why not?"
"Well, besides the fact that
I can’t stand up? I want our marriage to be something special, precisely when I’m
not in pain." I paused, biting down on my lower lip. Think, Antoinette,
think! I need to get his mind off of this idea. "And besides, I promised
Charles he could come."
"Well, he can come to the
after-party." That didn’t even faze him, did it? We took a step outside
into the somewhat brisk air. No, it did not faze him. "Getting cold feet
already?" he questioned, stepping towards the curb.
"I can’t feel one of my
feet, so sure, I suppose, one foot is cold!" He smiled at that.
"God, I love you." I
smiled at him, even though I didn’t necessarily mean to. He knows just what to
say and when to say it. The charmer. He began to whistle for a taxi. And as we
stood there, in the cold, him trying to flag down cars, he glanced over his
shoulder at me, that mischievous smile of his plastered across his face.
"It could be fun," he tried to say, enticing me. He shrugged a
shoulder before whistling loudly at one taxi driver on the curb across the
street, who looked like he was on his lunch break. "You!" he shouted,
pointing to him. He’s not going to threaten to sink him, is he? Any reporters
around? I glanced around the busy streets of New York City, and nothing. I
sighed a breath of relief. "Want to do your job!?" he shouted.
"Harry, don’t be rude!"
He looked over his shoulder at me, yet again unfazed, just as the taxi pulled
up at the curb in front of him, practically splashing him with mud from that
rainstorm we had encountered.
"Come along, Miss
Andrews," he laughed, leading me towards the car and opening the door for
me. I hopped in as he held onto my crutches, before he got in himself. He
slammed the door and the taxi driver looked at him through the rearview mirror,
which needs to be badly polished.
"Where to?" Harry glanced
at me, as if he wanted me to agree to his insane idea of getting married today.
I can only shake my head at him. No. I don’t want to get married now. It’s too
soon. Not after my yelling at Ismay, I need my mental health evaluated, I can’t
get married now. He looked at me, his demeanor changing.
"Are you sure?" he
asked softly.
"My ankle is killing
me," I told him.
"Alright, alright." He
took in a deep breath. "The Plaza, then."
"Okay, the Plaza it
is." The taxi pulled the car off from the curb and we began down the busy
street. I buckled myself in and didn’t look Harry in the eye. He’s probably
disappointed, but…Get married today?
In reality, I know he’s right.
There’s nothing holding us back from doing what we want. I glanced down at my
ring and its’ just sparkling at me, as if its’ telling me to just go ahead and
to quote my future husband, take the plunge. But, my father. Would he want me
to wait? I looked out the window momentarily. Or would he want me to seize the
day, and take this opportunity while it was still in my possession? You only
have one life to live, Antoinette Andrews. Harry said that himself. And you
know you’re never going to find someone like Harold Lowe again, and if my
father’s the only real reason I’m holding myself back, I know he’ll be there.
He always seems to be around.
The better question is: why not?
It’s a good way to start over, isn’t it? Start a new life, well, start a new
life somewhat, with someone I truly love? Who cares how long we’ve known each
other? We love each other and that’s what matters. I glanced down at my
bandaged ankle that, even though it’s throbbing, it’s as if I’m immune to the
pain now. I think it’s adrenaline I’m running on now. That or insanity. Oh,
Hell, let’s get married!
"Alright," I said
softly, nodding at him.
"Alright, what?" he
asked, confused.
"You want us to get
married?" I questioned.
"Well, I wouldn’t have
bought the ring had I not wanted to marry you—"
"No, no. Do you want to get
married today?"
"I did. But, you, your ankle
and—" I put a finger to his lips to stop him.
"Screw my ankle." I
cleared my throat. "Driver, City Hall."
"But, Miss, that’s in the
complete opposite direction…"
"I don’t care," I said
simply, with a shrug. Harry sat up straighter, smiling widely at me.
"Are you sure, Ann?" he
asked seriously. I nodded at him.
"You have one life to live,
remember?" I asked, with a smile, leaning in towards him. He wrapped an
arm around me, laughing at that. "Seize the day?"
"Antoinette, you have just
made me the happiest man on this Earth. Driver." He tapped the taxi
driver’s shoulder.
"What?" he asked,
somewhat irritated.
"City Hall," Harry
repeated. "Turn around."
"It’ll cost you a
fortune," he warned.
"We’ll pay you double the
meter if you get us there in five minutes," I offered, holding up my
purse, jingling it as the change began to bounce back and forth in it.
"Alright, then!" he
whistled, suddenly turning a sharp left, screeching the taxi’s wheels as he
spun around in the opposite direction. I held onto Harry for dear life. And
even though we may all die if this taxi tips over, my mind went immediately to
something to do, of course, with the impending nuptials. We need rings. How can
we forget such an important, yet simple, detail?
"Oh, Harry, how can we get
married without rings?" He glanced down at me, and I could see his mind
tinkering.
"Well, we can’t," he
mused aloud. I nodded.
"Exactly."
"And we need a jewelry
store, too!" he exclaimed excitedly. What a nervous groom-to-be, wouldn’t
you say? The driver didn’t hesitate. The thought of money is invading his
thoughts, I think. And I don’t have a nickel on me.
"Yes, sir!" When he
turned around completely, Harry took my left hand and intertwined his fingers
with mine.
"You sure?" he asked,
skeptic. I nodded, squeezing his hand.
"I’ve never been so sure in
my life."