Shane stopped at the doorway. There had been no parking close to Wings and he had refused Kim's offer to drop him off at the door. Now he was regretting that decision. After walking two blocks, he was winded and needed to catch his breath.
"Are you okay?" Kim asked. "I should have insisted you get out. That walk was too much."
He felt the heat rising in his cheeks. "Nonsense," he insisted. Then, he lied, "I'm fine."
Kim's disbelief was momentarily visible, but she managed to stop herself from shaking her head more and took his hand. "Come on. We don't want to be late."
Steeling himself, Shane followed her through the door. It had been a long time since he had been to Wings. He thought back, slightly ruefully, to how his last visit had ended with Steve Johnson's arrival and a sharp, right cross to Shane's jaw.
Once inside, they were met by a smiling Eve, who gave them both hugs and then told Dave to take them to the "best table in the house - the one right in front of the stage." Shane found himself taking a deep breath, needing to steady his nerves. It was silly, really, but he felt butterflies in his stomach at the thought of walking past all those other tables in the crowded restaurant.
"Come on," Kim whispered so only he could hear her. She wrapped her arm around his in a way that he suspected she intended would allow him to lean on her without it being too noticeable.
"I'm fine," Shane insisted.
Kim squeezed his arm. "You will be." She smiled softly. "I know it's hard for you, but you've come so far already. Soon, nobody will believe you were ever hurt."
As they crossed the room, Shane noticed that the din of the evening diners had seemed to lessen. He also heard some hushed voices from the tables they passed, and he barely had to glance sidelong to see the people watching them.
"Shane, darling!" Julie Williams rushed across the room and caught them just as they reached the table. She gave him a peck on the cheek. "I'm so glad you're here." Then, she stepped back and looked Shane over from head to toe. "And you look so much better than when I last saw you."
It took Shane a moment to recall when that was. "Oh . . . at the hospital. . . of course."
"That's right. You look a thousand-percent better. I guess that's what home cooking will do for you." Julie gave Kim a wink. "Not to mention a few other things that nurses don't give you in a hospital."
Shane thought his ears were about to burn to a crisp. "Julie Williams," he gasped, scandalized. "I can't believe you just said that."
"Why?" Julie teased. "And here I thought you knew me?" As Shane sputtered as he tried to find a response, she grinned, gave him another peck on the cheek, and looked at him. "It's just good to see you up and around, and I'm glad to see two of my favorite people have come to their senses."
Shane had to roll his eyes at that. "Does everyone in Salem know our business?"
Julie laughed. "Of course not, darling - just those of us who've passed within a block of your daughter this past week. . . . And don't get upset at Eve. She's very happy for you." Julie looked at Kim. "For both of you, I swear. Now, why don't you sit down and I'll send over a bottle of my best champagne - on the house?"
Shane sighed. Alcohol and pain medication did not mix. "As much as I hate the idea of turning down good champagne, I'm off alcohol for the time being. You wouldn't want to get me into trouble with Dr. Hunter."
"Oh, of course," Julie said. "I'm sorry. . . . Well . . . just have a seat and I'll figure out something else. This is a celebration and the two of you are going to celebrate."
As she glided away across the room, Shane glanced and Kim, who rolled her eyes and chuckled. "That sounded a bit like an order," she said, as Dave pulled out her chair and she finally sat. Shane sat down also and took the menu. They quickly ordered and, that done, Shane suddenly wondered what came next.
This is when I would ask Kim to dance, Shane thought, knowing the idea was completely out of the question. Not when I could barely walk from the car to the restaurant.
Kim glanced at him, then looked down, and busied herself with buttering a piece of bread. Plainly, she had no idea what to do or say either.
The waiter arrived a few minutes later with a glass of champagne for Kim and some sparkling cider for Shane. He took the glass and shrugged. "Hardly Dom Perignon, but I guess I'll just have to make do."
"We'll more than make do," Kim replied, holding her glass aloft. "I'd make a toast, but I'm not sure what to say. I . . . I know this sounds silly, but I . . . is it weird that I feel nervous?"
"Like a teenager on a first date?" Shane asked.
Kim giggled and blushed. "Exactly." She shook her head. "You'd think we'd have gotten the hang of this by now. How many 'first dates' have we had?"
"I think I've lost count." Shane chuckled. "Let's see . . . I took you riding-"
"True, but that was after how many lunches, dinners - and entire cheesecakes - at Shenanigans," Kim pointed out.
Shane had to concede the point. "Well the riding was sort of an official first date after I nearly left Salem. So let's call that the second first date." He thought. "And we had a 'first date' after Andrew was born."
"I seem to remember the 'second date' a bit more," Kim said, with a saucy wink, reminding him of the first time they had made love after reuniting. Kim giggled. "Remember the violinist? You told him we had to go feed Andrew and when he asked how it was our second date, you told him we 'move fast'? Boy was he confused."
Shane had to laugh too. "Okay . . . so that's three. And after the knifer."
"Four." Kim hesitated and seemed to grow a little somber. "I just realized something. . . . We never really had anything I'd call a 'date' when you came back after losing your memory. It's funny, isn't it? But then we kind of skipped over a lot of things back then."
He knew she was thinking about Cal and how she had moved on after Shane's death. "We don't need to talk about that," he said, reaching for her hand. "Why don't we just count this as our fifth 'first date.' Can you do that?"
Kim's fingers tightened around his and she smiled. "I think I can definitely do that."
That seemed to break the ice and they both relaxed. The food came and, as they ate, they talked about the past and about their children. Then they watched Eve perform - brilliantly, Shane had to say, certain it was not just fatherly pride influencing his judgment.
"This has been a wonderful evening," Kim said. Eve had left the stage, replaced with soft music that brought several couples to the dance floor.
Shane nodded. "It has." A dancing couple flashed in the corner of his eye and he wished he could pull Kim to her feet and could join them. Shane could almost feel the warmth of Kim's body against his and envisioned the way she would look up at him with an adoring gaze as they swayed to the music. Ruefully, he said, "It's almost perfect."
As if she could read his mind, Kim leaned forward, reached across the table, and grabbed his hand. "It is perfect. . . . I know it's hard for you. You can't even see how much progress you've made. You're going to get stronger and they'll be plenty of nights when we dance together. That doesn't make tonight any less perfect."
Shane could hear the earnest sincerity in her voice and found himself unable to tear his gaze away from her shining eyes. He squeezed her hand, smiled softly, and nodded. "It is perfect."
"Right," Kim said. She let go of his hand, pulled away, and stood up.
Confused, Shane asked, "What the devil are you doing?"
"You'll see." Kim took her chair, dragged it around the table, and set it to Shane's right. She then sat down and took his hands in hers. Then she leaned her head against his chest.
Shane pulled his right hand free and wrapped his arm around her shoulder. They began to sway together, slowly, in time to the music.
"See, Shane," Kim said softly. "Who says we can't dance?"