Love Lift Me (10 page)

Shane
exited the highway and rolled onto Market Street, where buildings were packed
in so closely together it was hard to tell where one stopped and the next one
began. On the right we passed a boldly-painted wooden sign that advertised tours
on the decommissioned Battleship North Carolina, which I’d been on half a dozen
times with my family or on school trips. As we went along further, the crowded
four lane road collapsed into two, and curbs turned from concrete into lush
green grass and moss-covered trees which hung deep and thick overhead like a
tunnel of vegetation. Modern homes and glass-front businesses faded into
colonial architecture built with rough stone and brown brick.

“How
about a hint?” he offered, and raised his brows expectantly. “We’re almost
there now.”

“I’d
love one. I had no idea there were any restaurants or clubs this far at the end
of town.”

Shane
smiled, perhaps even happier that he was doing such a good job keeping me in
the dark about our destination and said, “All right. When we turn and go down
this next street up ahead, look over to your right and tell me what you see.”

I
waited as we drove along, peering in the direction he’d told me. The street
began sloping severely downwards and in the distance, where the road seemed to
drop straight off, I could see dozens of boats floating along in the Cape Fear
River. Shane turned a corner before we got there and my view was obstructed by
more buildings before opening up again to a picturesque, vast horizon of water,
shimmering in the purple-pink rays of setting sun.

“I
see the Cape Fear,” I said, anxiously peering out my window. “It’s beautiful.”

“Keep
looking.”

I
did. Shane turned again, heading towards the water now, and a white steamboat
appeared in sight. It was several stories high, with thick blue lines of trim
along the top of each deck and two great, charcoal-black exhaust pipes coming
right up through the middle. Brilliant brass railings ran the course around the
upper and lower decks of the boat, anywhere a person might stand, and every few
yards the rail was dotted with a glowing light.

She
was docked along a lengthy stretch of wooden pier that reached far out into the
river. There were people, at least thirty or forty of them, lined up towards
the boat and waiting, some with their feet on the concrete sidewalk or the
sandy median, some patiently standing on the pier. Several of the men had on
suits or tuxedos, and they stood around with their hands gracefully around
their women or shoved deep into their own pockets. The women laughed and
chatted, cheeks rosy, while donned in fine dresses covered in sequins that
gleamed, vibrant ones that were covered with all sorts of patterns, or sleek,
solid-colored ones like the black number I had on.

We
drew closer and then passed into a gated lot. Hand-painted gold leaf writing
across the tail end of the steamboat read, “
The Enchanting Queen
”. I
held my breath and brought a hand to my mouth.
The same romantic dinner
cruise that I was supposed to have gone on with Hale.
That was so long
ago, the one that ended with me cursing him while he sobered up behind bars.

“I…Shane,
it’s beautiful.”

“Ok,
so it wasn’t much of a hint,” Shane said, and swung the car into the nearby
parking area. “I really did want to surprise you with something nice. The hotel
I’m staying at had brochures for the thing, and it looked like fun. Have you ever
been on a steamboat before?”

I
shook my head slowly. My mind was clicking, stuck between recalling all the
emotions of that fated Valentine’s night and processing the coincidences that
had brought me there, at last, wearing the dress I was supposed to wear on
another night that might have changed my life forever.

“Please
don’t tell me you’re scared of being on the water or something,” Shane said
concernedly, while watching me stare out at the enormous, fanned propeller on
the rear of the boat. “You seem a little freaked out.”

“No.
I love it.”

I
was filled with the compulsion to reach across the seat and hold onto Shane and
embrace him again like I did at Stokes Pond. Such a thing deserved a sincere,
honest thank you such as that. He might have thought me foolish to act that
way, however, so I placed my hands in my lap and smoothed out the wrinkles on
my dress instead. After all, how could he have any idea what was going through
my mind?

Could
he have known what happened in the past or what this truly meant to me?
No, there was no way.
I’d forget what happened, live in the moment, and
experience it like something I’d been waiting for all along.

And
it would be so very good.

A
man clad in a stark white uniform and hat with royal blue adornments appeared
from the boat’s staircase entrance and lifted a simple chain that held back the
line of people. One by one he greeted them with his bushy moustache smile and
took their passes, showing each the way to board the ship with an easy wave of
his gloved hand. After the short climb up the stairs, the people entered into a
room that was full of bright, hanging lights.

“I’ve
got our tickets,” Shane said and produced them from a pocket. “All set?”

“Y-yes…thank
you.”

Without
another word, he popped open his door and leisurely stepped around to open
mine. Shane extended his hand and aided me out, then wrapped his arm around my
waist. Together, with his firm, warm body pressed next to mine, he escorted me
across the street and handed the uniformed man our tickets. Up the stairs we
went, just like I’d watched the other people do, like I’d imagined myself doing
with Hale before when I was just a love-struck teenager, and we entered the
room full of lights.

Ten

The
inside of the old steamboat was so rich and luxurious it almost made me feel
guilty.

Almost.

Time-weathered
rich hardwoods, long driftwood timbers of aged yellow and brown, had been
coated with glossy lacquer and made up the floor. The hanging lights were almost
like standing beneath hundreds of perfectly round stars, warm in their
radiance, and the bottoms of each were encircled with crystal-clear glass domes.
They dangled from thin chains of polished brass and swung a bit as the boat
lilted very slowly in the water. A single, long maroon-colored carpet stretched
out through the center of the room. Waiters and staff were using it as a kind
of highway, pushing their carts or walking along it while carrying a drink
order to guests. Square wooden tables covered by bleached white tablecloths
were arranged in double rows on either side.

I
stepped through the entryway and was greeted by another man in a similar
uniform as the ticket-taker outside. He led Shane and I through the rows of
tables and chairs and other guests to a place of our own in a back corner. On
the table was a tall white candle, embedded in a brass holder, which the man
lit before walking away. Under the flickering orange flame of the candle and
the dazzling overhead lights, I held my breath for a moment to take it all in.

“This
place is fantastic, isn’t it?” Shane offered. He seemed a bit struck by it
himself.

“It’s
lovely. I always wondered what it would be like inside.”

“I
almost feel underdressed, with so many other guys wearing tuxedos.”

“They’re
probably here for a wedding or a special event. I think the boat splits parties
up into the forward and aft decks after dinner.”

“Oh,”
Shane said and flipped open the menu that our host had left on the table.
“Check out some of this stuff. Quite a far cry from a fast food place at a bus
station and hamburgers loaded up with french fries.”

There
was a little bit of everything, and all of it sounded exquisite and wordy; a
rustic vegetarian portabella and eggplant ravioli, aged seared kabob of Black
Angus filet, a pecan-crusted duck confit on a bed of wilted spinach, and
several others. Some of the words I couldn’t even pronounce. I thumbed the page
and tried to decide. Most of my daily choices were nowhere near as complex. In
the end, I settled on the grilled miso shrimp, which sounded far simpler than
most of the other fare.

A
few minutes later, our waitress arrived to take our orders and left us with a
bottle of white wine and a basket of still-steaming bread.

“So,
what do you think?” Shane asked. He examined the bottle the waitress had
brought with a look of interest. “This isn’t too fancy or anything is it?”

“I
barely knew what to think, looking at the menu. Am I uncultured, deprived, or
what?”

Shane
chuckled. “Hardly, Kat. You’re exactly how you’re supposed to be. I didn’t want
to admit it, but I have no idea what the heck a
confit
is of anything.”

“It’s
French for something…I think,” I said, unsure, and bit my lower lip.

“You’re
probably right.”

I
looked around the room. Every table was booked, but somehow, the mingling
voices of the others or clacking of dinnerware and glasses didn’t seem to reach
us in our little corner. It was intimate in its own way, and I was glad for it.

“Tasty,”
Shane said, and took a sip of wine. “That’s pretty good stuff. Can’t remember
the last time I had decent wine.”

“Me
neither. I’ve never been much of a drinker, though.”

“That’s
ok. I’m a lightweight too.” Shane turned in his chair when the delicate sound
of piano music began echoing across the restaurant. “I can’t get over how
authentic this boat is. It’s hard to imagine
this
is how so many people
got around before automobiles and airplanes. Kind of luxurious, comparatively.”

“Do
you think it really runs on steam?” I asked, genuinely curious.

“Oh,
I don’t know. I’m fairly sure I read somewhere in the brochure I picked up that
it used to be a bona fide steamboat back in the day. Someone came along and
fixed her up. I’d bet they put in a new engine.”

After
the main course was delivered, I picked at the food on my plate for a while,
mostly shoving noodles around. Everything was scrumptious, but I couldn’t help
occasionally dwelling on the coincidence of being there, on that boat, with
Shane. When it happened, I just sort of went to a moody place in my mind.

“Is
everything alright?” he asked.

I
lifted my eyes to his. “Yeah. Sorry. The food is really good.”

“You
seem distracted.”

“I
didn’t want to say anything at first, Shane, but this boat…“ I struggled, “My recent
ex was supposed to take me on a date here a long time ago. It didn’t work out
that way, though.”

“Your
ex, huh? Let me guess - the same person that left you hanging at a bus station
in Watauga County?” Shane divined, slid forward and raised one brow. I nodded
slowly. “Sounds like it was a serious long-term thing you guys had going.”

“Long
term. Long distance. The relationship didn’t work out either, obviously.”

“High
school sweethearts?” Shane asked and took another sip of wine.

“Something
like that. You know how it is.” The waitress walked by and I looked up at her,
but she was going for another table. I fingered the cool rounded rim of my
glass, peered inside at the pale, yellowish liquid, and took a drink. It was a
bit strong, with a sweet flavor behind it, and left a dry taste in my mouth
after I swallowed.

“It’s
funny,” I started, feeling the alcohol burn down my throat and into my nearly-empty
stomach, “This dress – he bought it for me, so I could wear it on that date. It
feels kinda funny to have held onto it so long, and now…here
we
are.”

“You
look unbelievable in it.”

“It
was the only thing I had to wear that looked nice.”

“More
than nice,” Shane said, and sensing my distraught, reached across the table and
took my hand in his. “That’s nothing to feel bad about, Kat. I’m willing to bet
it wasn’t your fault none of that worked out. Now this - this here, is for
us
.
Right now we’re just two people treating ourselves to a nice dinner. It doesn’t
matter what we wear, or who gave it to us, or what place we go. All that
matters is now.”

I
looked into Shane’s eyes and saw the sincerity in them. His fingertips played
over my hand, making little sensitive trails in their wake. I took a deep,
cleansing breath and all felt right with the world again.

And
that’s when I knew, I think.
He was the man for me.

“And
later, there’s dancing,” he added slyly.

“Can’t
remember the last time I danced. I’m going to be rusty.”

“You’re
not the only one, Kat. We’ll be rusty together.” Shane drained the last of his
wine and filled the glass again. “We can go up top after we’re done if you
want. After the dancing, that is. Maybe we’ll see those wild island horses I
read about.”

The
waitress came by again, this time with dessert. Shane’s hand disappeared and
she set down her tray on a little stand and placed several dishes in front of
us. There were miniature candy treats, vanilla bean ice cream drizzled with caramel,
and many small slices of different kinds of cake which ranged from the ordinary
to the exotic. We ate nearly all of it, stuffing ourselves full. Shane and I laughed
and joked the entire time, and traded forkfuls of food because everything
looked too interesting to keep to ourselves. When the food was gone, and a
loose, comfortable tingle settled into my stomach from the wine, we departed to
the next deck.

Most
of the other guests finished before us and had already moved on from the dining
room. Shane and I walked together up the carpeted stairs without interruption
until we reached the entrance to a darkened, stately sort of ballroom when a
young couple came breezing by. I watched them go; hand in hand and made up like
they were going to prom, as they gleefully bounded past.

Inside,
the guests that weren’t part of the wedding reception that was taking place on
the other end of the boat were sitting at tables along the windowed sides of
the room and drinking or dancing together in the center. Spotlights shone down,
swirling regularly in place as they illuminated the dancing couples for brief
instants, and fixed, red and gold-colored lamps set the mood.

“Well,
I hope you like oldies,” Shane said and held out one hand. “Shall we dance?”

The
first few songs were lively classics, and both of us tried our best to look
like we knew what we were doing. I’m sure we failed spectacularly.  Still, it
was great fun, and I don’t think I stopped smiling the entire time while
watching Shane try to do the Twist.

After
a while, the lights dimmed and a slow, melodic love song began to play. Shane
pulled me close, so that his arm wrapped around me with his hand on my back,
and we drifted like that, like I’d dreamed, while the sweet chords of song
echoed around us. The whole room seemed to disappear until we were the only two
people on the floor.

“Now
this
I can dance to and not feel like a goof,” Shane admitted. “I think
I was rustier than I let on earlier.”

“It
was fun. Like you said, we were rusty together.”

“Have
I told you how wonderful you look tonight?”

I
giggled and said, “Mmm...maybe. You should say it again though, so I can be
sure.”

“I
don’t think any of the other guys here have taken their eyes off you since we
walked in. I know I haven’t been able to.” Shane pulled me in, and our bodies
touched. My pulse rose as I sensed myself being drawn in to the intimate
contact, to the brilliant contrast of his firm chest compressing and moving
slowly against my soft bosom.

“I’m
so glad I found you,” he whispered into my ear. “I don’t think I told you this,
but I thought I might never get to see you again.”

“I
would have come looking for you if you hadn’t. My mind was already made up.”

He
squeezed me a little tighter and said, “Yeah? It was hard not knowing, just
lying in that hospital bed and wondering what happened to you after the
ambulance took you away. I don’t know why, exactly, but it was. It kind of
hurt.”

I
swallowed hard.

“You
probably think I’m being silly,” he said, confronting my silence.

“No.
I felt the same thing, Shane.” I placed my head against his chest and breathed
him in. “It’s not that silly at all.”

The
music swelled and he spun me around slowly, keeping me balanced in his sure
grip. When the song faded and another started up, he didn’t miss a beat.

“Jesus,
I haven’t danced like this in years, Kat. I have to keep reminding myself to
watch out for your feet.”

“You’re
doing fine. Perfect.”

I
took in the scent of his cologne again and lingered on the warmth of our hands
together. We’d shared the same feelings, hundreds of miles apart. It hurt both
of us to be away and wondering about each other. I felt like I’d fallen,
hopeless, but when Shane found me again, my heart felt like it had been lifted
up to a new height and the pain was gone. I’d never sensed that with Hale.

What
did it mean? Was this the true love people always talk about finding?

We
danced together for a few more songs while I forgot about all the other people
around us. When the lights brightened again and a more modern rock n’ roll song
began to play, we strolled to the edge of the dance floor.

“Would
you like a drink?” Shane asked, to which I shook my head. It was already buzzed
from the few glasses of wine I’d had earlier. “Want to go up to the top deck
then? See what there is to see? I think there’s a full moon tonight so it
should be nice.”

“I’d
like that.”

Shane
guided me up the steep stairwell and to the door at the top. Outside air rushed
in to meet me, filled with the salty traces of the coast. The wind was still
warm, untouched by the coming autumn, and the cloudless sky was filled with
stars. On the horizon, a full, pale moon stood out in the blackness of space
like a giant glimmering button and behind us, the hazy lights of Wilmington
shone out across the water to point the way back. The boat steamed along under
me slowly, carefully, navigating the many large grass and bush-covered islands
or the high banks on the edge of the water.

I
stepped over to one of the long brass railings and grabbed the cool metal.
Shane stepped in beside me and did the same. We both looked out towards a
nearby island as the boat passed it. My eyes adjusted to the night and I
watched, just as carefully as the boat chugged along, until another guest
exclaimed and a group of horses and ponies suddenly came racing out of a
thicket like flittering shadows. They were playing and chasing each other,
nuzzling necks and stamping around, and didn’t pay us a bit of mind. I watched
them closely, wondering how it felt to be that free.