Chapter 11

Betsy Elliott is a genius! Hermie, my old, old friend Hermie, is a genius for finding her, asking her to marry him, and somehow persuading her that it was a good idea.

The moonlight dinner cruise on the river might have been every bit as corny and contrived as it sounds, and God knows it wasn't cheap. But it never would have occurred to me to invite a date on a river cruise for dinner and dancing. Until I had found Shirley again, it never would have occurred to me to go dancing anywhere, with anybody!

But holding Shirley in my arms -- even on a dance floor -- was a delightful experience. And I found that, after a before-dinner gin and tonic and two generous after-dinner glasses of wine, I was a much more graceful dancer than I would ever have believed.

I didn't ask Shirley to ratify that freshly acquired self-impression. I was only mildly intoxicated -- not roaring drunk. I knew I probably wasn't really doing as well as it felt like I was doing. But I didn't step on her toes -- too often -- and I felt like I was gliding along like Fred Astaire on his best night.

I hadn't known there would be a full moon on that particular night, but I had lucked out on that, too. The river, with the moon reflected brilliantly on it, looked dark, mysterious and beautiful. The lights along both sides glided by as our old-fashioned riverboat churned through the water. And the live orchestra was five or six cuts above what we'd had to endure at the Cloverdale High reunion.

Yes, Betsy Elliott was definitely a genius.

Most of the riverboat's clients that night had already filed off the gangplank before Shirley and I finished one more glass of wine each and, reluctantly, took our leave.

"I'm too woozy to drive right away," I told her. "If you need to get home, I'll take you in a cab. Otherwise, we can just -- take another riverside walk."

"Riverside walk," Shirley said immediately.

We came to the same park bench we'd shared, briefly, on that earlier date when I'd first introduced her to the river walk. This time, the street light overhead was out. There were other lights near enough to provide adequate illumination, but "our" bench, this time, was a more private, a more romantic, place.

Shirley sat down on the bench without any guidance from me. "Wanna neck?" she said, smiling and holding out both hands.

"Is a bear Catholic?" said I, and immediately swept in with more grace than I ever had displayed on a dance floor. I encircled her waist and boldly found her lips for a determined kiss. This time, by God, I was going to take her by surprise!

She was cooler in the clutch than I had been on Wednesday, but it was a pretty damned good kiss if I do say so.

"Whew!" Shirley said.

"Told ya," I said. "I told you I could do better."

"That was a goodie," she agreed.

"Did you enjoy the cruise?" I asked her. Talk about cheap fishing for compliments! I knew damned well she'd had a great time. It had been entirely evident, all evening long.

"Very much," she said simply.

"I wish I could tell you I thought of it all by myself," I said, "but I didn't. If it had been up to me, we'd have gone to a damned movie in the Mall, or something."

"Betsy, huh?"

"Yeah. She's my coach."

"I guess she told you -- everything."

"I doubt it. She gave me the very strong impression that most of what you and she talked about was off-limits for the entire male sex."

"I really like her," Shirley said.

"Yeah, me too. Hermie's a lucky duck."

"Cute kid they have, too."

"Yeah."

"They seem very happy."

"Yes, and it's no act, either. I've known them ever since they first met, when Hermie was still living in Cloverdale. It's always been just, I don't know, like they never had the first doubt, about each other."

"That's kinda rare," Shirley said.

"Yeah."

"We didn't have that, in my family."

"Mine, either. Although my mother's second marriage turned out pretty well. I think she got it right, that time."

"Were you raised by a stepfather?"

"Mostly, yes. And I was lucky. He was a decent guy, and he treated me pretty much like his own kid."

"So. You had a pretty happy home, growing up?"

"A helluva lot better than average, I'd say. You?"

"There was quite a lot of strife, actually," Shirley said. "Nothing terribly bad. My folks were old-fashioned and didn't deal well with my popularity, in school. They didn't like it when I started dating, and they didn't like it when I, early-on, rebelled against going with them to church."