Like it Was Before

He picked me up the next Friday night, and by the time we reached our destination it was completely silent in his Jeep save for the sounds of an old horror movie being piped in through his radio.
Oh, and there was the sound of my teeth chattering. There was that.
Shane turned to me supposedly to say something and break the nervous near-silence we had been marinating in, but lost his nerve, abruptly turning back to the wheel gripping tightly with both hands even though we'd long since stopped (and the emergency break was on).
His knuckles were turning white. Whiter, anyway.
I waited on him patiently, which eventually paid off once he's screwed his nerve back up to speak even if he does so without turning towards me.
"I'm sorry," he begins, his drawl in full evidence
"This was a dumb idea-I didn't know it'd be so cold. Shoulda checked the weather..."
He stops, trailing off at the frantic waving of my hands, a gesture I'm hoping will convey my complete non-worry at this.
"Stop it! This was a great idea, Shane. I'm the one who wore this stupid dress-silk during a cold front?" I admit that I had wanted to look nice and impress Officer Walsh, but I somehow doubted that hypothermia was the way to go about this.
"Are you kidding?"
Now he's the one interrupting me.
"That dress is great."
I blush at his compliment, feeling like a kid in High School again.
"Savannah," I look up from my foolish aw-shucks head ducking to find his gaze settled firmly on me.
"You look beautiful tonight."
And then as if he's making a decision, he bangs the steering wheel once before continuing.
"Far too beautiful to be freezing your ass off at a drive-in movie I know we've both
already seen before."
Shane starts the Jeep and is backing up, leaving the parking lot before I can say anything to stop him. Or he's trying to, anyway.
We scarcely get out of the lot before the engine dies, unceremoniously sputtering out.
He's busy trying to get the heater on and I'm wondering why we hadn't thought of this before so it takes a moment before either of us recognize what's happening.
Shane catches it just before I do and begins to swear.
"Well, son of a bitch,"
I glance over startled as he sort-of steers the car to the side of the road taking up most
of the tiny shoulder.
"What?"
Dumb question I think as he looks up at me clearly in misery, embarrassed beyond belief.
"The battery."
Hesitant to state the obvious I ask:
"Jumper cables?"
Shane takes a deep breath pausing before he lets it out again, rubbing the back of his head something I'm already beginning to realize is a nervous habit.
"That idiot Leon Basset borrowed 'em. They're still in his trunk."
There's a pause while we both digest this.
"I'm sorry, sweetheart."
My stomach turns over at his use of a pet name, but in a good way-something else I haven't felt since graduating King County High School all those years ago.
I repeat my earlier sentiments;
"Stop it. It's fine. Stop apologizing."
Shane pulls his cell phone out (mine, I'm thrilled to notice, has no signal. Not even one bar.), ignoring me completely and begins making a series of phone calls, first to Leon who is on his way and will be here soon. If half an hour is considered 'soon'.
We could always ask someone at the drive in for help but that would involve much more effort than I was willing to put forth and Shane was clearly too embarrassed to do it himself.
He'd been less-than-impressed with himself to begin with.
This was just the icing on the cake, to borrow a phrase.
I'm willing to step back and let him handle this, fix it himself if it will make him feel better.
My teeth, the traitors, begin chattering again while I contemplate our situation and Shane, God bless him strips his dress shirt off passing it over without a word.
I'm too cold to refuse so I unbuckle my seat belt to curl up wrapping it still warm from his body heat around me as I settle in to wait.

I was on what would end up being the worst date of my entire life, still curled up in his passenger seat twenty minutes later.
In theory I should have been miserable.
In reality I was happy although groaning at the miserably lame joke he had just told me.
And, okay, yes, cracking up. Just a little.
He had been holding my hand and spouting an endless repertoire of knock-knock jokes.
I was hoping he'd kiss me to take my mind off of our situation and not turn into a 90's sitcom, but I'd take what I could get, for now.
I would also laugh, partly because Shane was naturally amusing and partly because he was trying so hard to be for my sake, to keep me in good spirits.
My opinion of him was already so high that I was of the mind that he deserved a medal just for the way he tried so hard to take care of me (stranded on the side of the road notwithstanding) and a freakin' parade for just being such a stand up guy.
Stand up guys were few and far between, even in the backwaters of Georgia.
So, yes. It was decided; for now I would hold Shane's hand.
And I would laugh.