Four-wheel drive vehicles burned gas ferrying people across the deep snow to the Shavertown shopping centers in search of formal wear. Trevor did not object to the use of the fuel because preparing for the gala ball kept spirits high despite the miserable cold.
Trevor himself found a tuxedo but Nina expressed little interest. That did not surprise him. There were some things up Nina’s alley, and some things that were not.
The Grenadiers and a few human volunteers-including Major Prescott-handled security that New Years Eve so the others could dance and drink.
– The men wore everything from three-piece suits to slacks and sweaters. It differed from the old days in that no one felt out of place; no one competed. The fancier the suit merely meant the luckier the scavenger hunt. The same held true for the women dressed in outfits ranging from gorgeous gowns to slacks.
Trevor waded through the crowd to the table Jon captured next to the bar. Dante and Shepherd waited there with the Brewers. Lori wore a blue dress left over from someone’s prom.
Trevor elegantly kissed her hand saying, 'You look dashing, my dear.'
'Charmed, I’m sure,' Lori drawled as soft music and chatter carried through the room.
'Where’s Nina?' Shep asked as he sipped from a bottle of beer.
'She’ll be over after guard duty.'
Shepherd snickered, 'She probably volunteered for guard duty. Late to get here, first to leave, I reckon.'
'Not quite the social butterfly, huh?' Dante grunted.
'Hey, too each their own,' Lori defended her friend.
'So, Trevor,' Shep changed the subject as they stood in a circle with drinks in hand. 'How’s Omar doing with that matter-maker thingy we found a while ago?'
Brewer sniped, 'Just ask Omar, he’ll give you an ear full.'
'It’s coming along, slowly,' Trevor said. 'Lots of limits to it. Can’t quite turn a brick into a gun or anything like that. But basic stuff. Hey, iron into gold. It can do that just fine.'
Dante suggested, 'Basic elements, huh?'
'Yeah, something like that. So far it looks like the biggest contribution that thing is going make in the short term is making more of that powder for the Redcoat guns and artillery. He’s been able to duplicate that stuff using things like sand. But it’s slow going.'
Shepherd said, 'Everything is slow going with this weather. People have got to find a way to keep busy.'
'I know,' Trevor agreed. 'Prescott and some of his guys are setting up little boot camps for people. Basic training and all that.'
Lori chuckled and said, 'Turning bankers and teachers into soldiers and sharpshooters? That should be interesting.'
'Why not?' Her husband sounded offended by her skepticism. 'Anyone who survived this long is a fighter. With all that's ahead of us, it makes sense to start some formal training.'
Trevor told them, 'We need the manpower, especially for the next few months. Let's hope this snow keeps bad things away; the K9 numbers are dangerously low. By spring there should be hundreds of adults at fighting age but right now the ranks are thin.'
Jon said, 'Wow,' but it had nothing to do with K9s: Something caught his eye.
The piano played classical background music while the crowd of people-nearly fifty-stood in groups ringing the dance floor drinking, eating, and talking.
On the far side of the room beyond the crowd stood Nina, scanning for her group. She wore a stunning black dress with stockings to match. Shiny diamond studs glinted in her ears and-most shocking of all- her hair laid loose: no ponytail.
Trevor could not pull his eyes from her.
So natural. Not the least bit ostentatious. Well-toned muscles; strong calves; the gentle curls of blond hair on soft shoulders; the slight arch of her back; not on gaudy display but presented without interference, without the clutter of battle suits or, for that matter, no distracting phony glitz.
Nina saw her friends staring at her with a mixture of awe and delight.
She smiled, a little. Perhaps embarrassed. But not much.
The piano played.
Nina walked with humble grace across the hall on short heels. She captured the eyes of everyone in the room. Even the piano player stumbled.
Trevor met her half way.
She spoke before he could: 'If you’re going to say anything, it had better be very charming.'
He hesitated. He could not possibly be as charming as this vision warranted.
'You always surprise me, don’t you?'
He put his hands on her bare shoulders.
Trevor said, 'You didn’t have to do this for me.'
Nina answered honestly, 'I did it for me.'
His mouth opened but he could not find words. She smiled at his bewilderment.
'Aren’t you going to tell me how I look?'
He licked his lips and admitted, 'I can’t. I’m not a poet.'
She grinned and leaned in. He kissed her forehead.
Trevor escorted her to the others and they hugged and laughed. Jon brought more drinks from the bar. The band-brass, drums, and guitar-really got going.
Trevor tried all night to get a good dance with his woman, but each time someone cut in.
First Dante took Nina for a dip. Jon tried to teach her a polka and, of course, Jerry Shepherd demanded a dance.
Jon brought along a digital video recorder. He captured the group as they gathered around the table late that night after many dances and many more drinks.
Dante stumbled, 'Hap-happy…what is it?…oh yeah, happy New Year!'
'And now to our love birds…' Brewer led as he brought the focus on Nina and Trevor.
'Damned straight!' Trevor exclaimed boisterously. Or maybe it was the vodka. 'I love this woman!'
'Oh stop, you’re embarrassing me,' Nina insisted as he slung an arm around her beautiful frame and pulled her close.
Trevor spoke louder; 'I love this woman. Completely. With everything I am.'
'Get a room!' Lori Brewer’s off camera voice shot.
'Besides,' Trevor continued. 'You’re cute when you blush.'
Nina-or maybe it was the wine-forgot her embarrassment. She let him pull her in, placed a hand on his cheek, and affirmed to him-to all of them: 'I love you, too. I always will.'
They hammed for the camera with a big kiss and a cheek-to-cheek grin.
Shepherd snapped a still photo of Nina, Trevor, Lori, Jon, and Dante standing arm to arm: the new generation of leaders and the hope of mankind’s future, sloshed at a New Year’s Eve party.
Later, Trevor found that private dance with his love.
She whispered, 'I want to stay at the mansion tonight.'
'Sure. Any particular reason?'
'Because I want to feel like a princess for a little while longer…'
…Trevor carried a bottle of wine and two glasses as he followed her into the deserted Command Center. She stood at the balcony doors gazing at the dark winter night.
Trevor placed the bottle and glasses on the desktop with a gentle ting, removed his tuxedo jacket, wrapped it over her bare shoulders, and they stepped out to the balcony.
The moon hovered somewhere between full and third quarter. Moonbeams danced over churning, icy waves. The evergreen trees on the hillsides wore coats of surreal white frosting. The entire scene seemed frozen; a painted picture still and peaceful. The vision offered an illusion that all might be right with the world.
'It’s beautiful, isn’t it, Trevor?'
He hugged her.
