Trapped Under Ice (6 page)

“Well, what were you going to sing next?”

“‘I Just Had to Have You Last Night.’”

“I love that one.”

“Is there any you don’t love?” Roger laughed. “Wait, don’t answer that.”

He and Chad began strumming the opening chords, and Keith picked up the drum line. Sensing her nervousness, Chad sang the first line with the gravelly voice that made their sound so famous. Beth knew the only way she could get through this was to concentrate on Chad. Gazing into his eyes, she boldly sang the next few lines. His grin grew wider as he took the next part. They continued back and forth, singing the chorus together.

Feeling braver, she turned to look at Roger with her next lines. He smiled and shouted, “Well allll right!” into the microphone.

With the final crashing notes, she bounded off the stool in excitement, jumping up and down.

“It’s like the music surges right through you,” she screamed, barely able to control herself. “That was amazing.”

“No, sweetheart,” Roger asserted, sauntering over to her and giving her a kiss on the cheek. “
You
were amazing.”

David left his keyboards and high-fived her, and Keith nodded, adding his, “You kicked ass!” to the reviews.

“What did I tell you?” Chad gave her a hug as best as he could with a guitar between them.

“Why don’t we call it a night,” Roger suggested. “We nailed those first songs and we need to save Chad’s voice for tomorrow.”

Everyone agreed wholeheartedly.

Michelle appeared from somewhere in the wings. “You promised you’d take me dancing, Roger.”

Roger threw his arm around her, still full of the cheer a good practice brought on. “She’s such a little dictator.” He buried his head in her hair and started playing around, kissing her neck while she squirmed.

Chad turned to Beth. “Do you know any place to dance?”

“I haven’t lived here in eight or nine years. You used to be able to dance onboard ‘The Admiral,’ only I think it’s called ‘The President’ now. It’s a big boat they restored and it’s moored down by the Arch, but that was years ago. I’m not sure if they have any dancing these days.”

“Let’s go check it out,” Michelle wheedled.

Roger now stood behind his wife, his hands around her waist. “What do you say, you two? Want to put on your dancing shoes?”

Chad turned to her, his eyes soft. “What do you say, Beth?”

“Well, I don’t know for sure if there’ll be any dancing, but I’m willing to check it out. It’s only a few blocks from here.”

He smiled. “I guess we’re in.” He swung his guitar up and set it in the stand next to him.

“David? Keith?”

“Cheri’s got a headache, and besides, I’m beat. But thanks.”

Keith answered with an air of mystery. “I’ve got other plans.”

“Well, I guess it’s a double-date then,” Roger announced affably.

Chad grabbed Beth’s hand and gave it a squeeze.

***          

The two couples piled into Beth’s sedan. Within minutes, Roger and Michelle were going at it in the backseat.

“Newlyweds,” Chad announced, looking embarrassed. “Can’t get enough of each other.” He sighed, looking out the window. Beth laughed to herself.

Navigating the one-way streets, she took them down to the levee, parking on the uneven cobblestones that slanted down to the river.

“Whoa!” Michelle cried out. “Don’t you feel like the car’s
gonna tip over?”

Beth laughed. “A little bit.”

They got out of the car carefully. She took stock of her surroundings for the first time. “Oh no.”

They all stood staring at “The Casino Queen,” its blaring lights announcing the new name for “The President.”

“I forgot. They turned it into a riverboat casino.” She turned to the three behind her with a look of disappointment, an apology on her lips, when someone called out in the darkness.

“Hey, there. What are you kids up to?”

Squinting, they could just make out the figure of an older man, sitting on a post near the water, evidently taking a break from walking the tiny dog that was busy wrapping his leash around the man’s feet.

Roger spoke for the group. “We were just looking for a place to dance, but we see now ‘The Admiral’ or ‘The President’ or whatever was turned into a casino.”

“Oh yeah. Done that years ago. It’s a shame. Beautiful boat in its day.” He started walking away, but turned back. “If you want to go dancing, son, there’s ‘The Mississippi Queen.’ She’s moored up yonder.” He pointed down the shoreline.

The four turned their heads as one to see the most spectacular riverboat imaginable. Lights illuminated five decks of the pristine-white “Mississippi Queen.” Even in the dark they could make out the twin black smoke stacks and the fabulous, large red paddle attached to the stern.

Roger said it for all of them. “Holy shit.”

“Yeah, baby!” Michelle screamed, jumping up and down, nearly turning an ankle on the irregular cobblestones. “Come on.” She took off, pulling him behind her. They soon put several yards between them and their friends.

Chad peered at Beth sideways with a grin on his face, and wordlessly held out his hand. She smiled and placed her hand in his, meandering up the levee with him. Neither of them spoke; they just allowed themselves to enjoy the magic of the evening, and the closeness they were beginning to feel.

All too soon, they caught up with the newlyweds, who stood agog in the boat’s lights, taken in by its splendor. Beth noticed a limo pulling up on the street above the parking lot that led to the water’s edge. A man in an expensive-looking tuxedo helped a woman in a flowing gown out of the car. They walked down a runway and onto the ship like royalty.

She leaned into Chad. “I think we may be a tad underdressed,” she whispered.

Bending close, he whispered, “I don’t care, do you?”

She gazed into his eyes, the streetlights twinkling playfully in their depths, and knew in that moment she cared about nothing less. She shook her head.

“Good.” His voice was nearly a growl.

Roger and Michelle were already ahead. A man in a doorman-type uniform appeared ready to turn them away. Taking in Roger’s t-shirt and jeans, and Michelle’s trademark thigh-high boots, red leather miniskirt, and the pigtails bouncing from the crown of her head, pink streak and all, he hesitated. But then, he seemed to decide their green spent as well as anybody else’s, took their money, shrugged, and let them pass. Beth reached for some money she had stuck in her pocket.

“Nah-ah-ah,” Chad chastised. “You told me I could pick up the next tab.” She bowed her assent and he paid their admission. He slid his arm around her shoulders as they passed through the archway and onto the ship.

In front of them was a large stage with a full band playing “Moon River.” Poinsettias lined the stage and couples swayed gracefully on the floor in front of it, most in full-length gowns and tuxes. Cloth-covered tables lined the dance floor, the candles on their surface sparkling off the silver trays men carried amid the guests and off the tall champagne flutes they bolstered. The light danced off the necks of bejeweled ladies who wore their hair up in sleek buns, adorned with more jewels, and off their husbands’ conspicuously large cufflinks. As they were taking this in, the band finished its song and announced a brief break while the captain readied his crew for departure.

“Oh, Michelle,” Beth breathed apologetically. “I’m sure this isn’t what you meant when you said you wanted to go dancing.”

“Nonsense,” she cried. “I’ve never seen anything so beautiful in my life. Hey, there’s a table.” She and Roger grabbed champagne glasses from a passing tray and made a beeline for one of the few unoccupied tables. Chad and a relieved Beth followed suit, claiming flutes from the next passing tray and threading their way through the tables behind their friends.

By the time they reached Roger and Michelle, they were fully ensconced at the table. As Chad pulled up a chair next to them, Roger buffeted him lightly in the ear.

“Oww. What was that for?”

“For not telling us what a great singer Beth was before.”

“I didn’t have time—”

“I know, but you should have told me anyway.”

“You make about as much sense as those warning signs on auto visors that say ‘DO NOT DRIVE VEHICLE WHILE IN PLACE.’”

“Hey, that’s my line,” Roger asserted, rapping him again, this time on the forehead.

“Hey, cut it out before I have to take you out on deck and show you who’s—”

“Boys. Boys,” Michelle scolded. She looked to Beth for sympathy. “You can’t take these two clowns anywhere, especially someplace classy like this.”

“Okay, we’ll behave, we promise. Right, Chad?”

Before he could respond, Roger jabbed him again in the arm while Michelle was looking the other way.

“Ouch!” Chad cried out, rubbing his injury.

“Did you see that? Did you see that?” Michelle asked Beth.

She shrugged innocently.

“Oh, you’re incorrigible, the lot of you.”

Roger winked at Beth as they all chuckled.

“So, how long have you two knuckleheads known each other?” Beth queried.

The two who had attacked each other seconds before leaned toward one another conspiratorially. “So now we’re ‘knuckleheads.’ I’ve known this bloke since I was a wee lad,” Roger announced, grabbing Chad’s head and giving him a Dutch rub. Chad escaped the headlock and moved farther away from the tormentor, rubbing his hair and laughing. “Ever since he beat the crap out of me and stole my milk money.”

“You liar! It was you who beat the crap out of me and it wasn’t because of any milk money. It was Susie
McFarren.”

“Oh, God. Here they go again with the whole Susie
McFarren thing.” Michelle moaned.

“Susie
McFarren had the hots for me,” Chad insisted.

“That’s just ‘cause you picked up her damn pencil every time she dropped it.”

“Yeah, well that’s what nice boys do.”

“Nice boy, my ass. You were just trying to get a look up her dress.”

“He was not!” Michelle cried out in pretend shock, defending him. “That’s the champagne talking,” she proclaimed, leaning into Beth but saying it loud enough so everyone else could hear, “it goes straight to his head. Anyway, Rog, that was your M.O., not Chad’s.”

“Oh yeah. You’re right,” he admitted, while seductively running a hand up under her miniskirt.

“Stop,” she squealed, but she was putting up a weak fight as he began kissing her neck again.

Chad and Beth exchanged an amused look, which turned, after a few seconds, into something more serious. Beth was saved from finding out about the look by the band starting up. When she turned again to Chad, he was standing beside her chair, offering his hand. All of a sudden, she felt very conspicuous in her short boots, jeans, and turtleneck sweater.

She glanced around. “Are you sure we should—”

“You said you didn’t mind,” he reminded her.

Spending the better part of eighteen years with an ultra-conservative husband who would never think of setting foot inside the boat without the proper attire, she now felt oddly uncertain of what she did, or didn’t mind. In the end, she stood up to join him on the dance floor.

She thought about her day, seeing him at the back of the church, laughing with him over dinner, singing with his band, and she began to unconsciously sway in rhythm with him. His hand felt so good on the center of her back. As he pulled her close and their bodies touched, she felt a tingle running up her spine. She asked herself again, “How did I get here?” Everything she was doing was so far from her normal lifestyle. Yet, somehow it felt so right. She laid her head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat and the soft, musical tapping of his tennis shoes on the dance floor.

Still, the voice in her head insisted,
You don’t even know this guy. You’ve known him less than twenty-four hours and yet he has his hands around you, and all you want is more of him. He could be a psycho for all you know.
The final voice sounded more like Paul than her; he was always so cautious, but invariably more wise.
But I do know him, somehow, I do. There’s something there…a connection. Oh, good Lord, I sound like a page out of one of my novels
.

A few beats after everyone else on the dance floor, they realized the music was over. The older people smiled and nodded at them, perhaps recognizing in the younger couple a feeling they felt before. Some lucky few of those who looked on may even have still felt it as they danced with their loved one.

A jazzier song started and the dance floor began to clear. Roger and Michelle sat huddled together at the table, oblivious to those around them.

“Want to go outside?” Beth asked.

“Sure.”

The boat was underway and they watched in silence as it passed through the glimmering reflection of The Arch in the water. Beth rested on the rail, and Chad stood behind her with his hands grasping the bar on either side of her. The wind blew their hair softly, and she shivered, regretting her decision to leave her coat in the car.