chapter thirty three
They left out the back door after Henry retreated an old coat from his loft upstairs. It was a short walk, and Marigold got to take in this new neighborhood's night life. The lights twinkled from a gentlemen’s saloon, some grimy diner, and a stage theatre.
They stopped at a low-lit bar, it seemed old and far passed over by the rest of the town’s inhabitants, but Marigold didn’t mind. If they were good enough souls to be friends with Henry, why shouldn’t she embrace them?
As they entered she saw a bar, with a stout woman working behind it. A couple of elderly couples sat in booths near the door, and deeper in the back stood a small stage. It was equipt with a stand-up bass, a jazz drum set, a saxophone, a microphone, and a piano.
“Hey Carol, a martini for me,” Henry leaned against the sticky bar with one arm, the other pulling out a stool for Marigold. “And for you, honey?”
Marigold gave him a look but took the seat with a shy smile all the same. She looked at Carol with a thankful expression.
“A rum and coke please,”
“No no, I can make you one of those anytime, make it two martinis, thank you, Carol!” Henry insisted.
Marigold submitted, somewhat guarded in the new setting though it was rather unlike her. She shrugged off her coat and smiled as Carol handed them the drinks.
“You two kids on a date? Never seen Henry bring a girl around,” Carol smirked at the young boy.
“Oh no, we’re not on a date!” Marigold responded quickly, her tone maybe a tad too loud for the silent bar.
“This is Marigold, a friend I made yesterday,” Henry chuckled.
“Well date or not, welcome, darling,” Carol winked and retreated.
There was some shuffling on the stage as the band came on, and Henry, still standing against the bar close to Marigold, smiled up at the stage and nodded to them.
“Henry, old pal, you’ve graced us with your presence tonight!” A smooth voice called.
“I hope you’re ready to dance!” Called another.
“Would you like to?” Henry looked to Marigold as she sipped down her martini.
“Oh um, maybe after a few songs,” She winced.
“In a bit!” Henry called up to the stage.
“Alright then, this one goes out to you few lovebirds, our regulars, but mostly to dear Henry!” The first voice called again and Marigold spared a glance over her shoulder.
The performers on stage were nothing of her expectations. She should’ve guessed by the instruments and the older patrons that this was no lively rock bar, but a jazz joint. The swingy tune of ‘Hey There’ began and Marigold couldn’t help but look at Henry again.
She smiled at him in disbelief, not expecting his friends to be a handful of middle-aged people who played at a mostly empty jazz bar. He was wise beyond his years, she presumed, watching him laugh and grin, nodding his head to the melody.
Marigold looked back at the silver-tongued lead singer, and he winked at her. He sang on the patronizing words, pointing playfully at her, insinuating she was the ‘the girl with her nose in the air’.
“Do you mind sweetheart?” Carol came out from behind the bar, grabbing Henry’s arm.
“Not at all, he’s all yours,” She shook her head, that odd wide-eyed look still evident as she took it all in.
She watched in amusement as Henry and Carol began to dance, slowly the older couples came to join them on the floor in front of the stage. Marigold had finished her martini by now and selfishly finished off Henry’s untouched one.
She clapped with the rest of the audience as it concluded. She was certainly drunk, after two cocktails and an entire afternoon spent drinking rum on an empty stomach. Her thoughts of the left-behind bread were interrupted by the band leader.
“What song will make you dance, beautiful?” He asked.
“She doesn’t dance unless there’s nothing else to do,” Henry teased.
“Oh well, in that case, will you sing one? I’ll take your date for a spin!” He joked, hopping down from the elevated floor.
“Oh no Jack, she doesn’t sing either-“ Henry defended, but Marigold had already begun crossing the floor.
“When I’m drunk I do,” She gave, surprising even herself.
“Alright!” Jack cheered, kissing Carol’s cheek.
“What will it be, love?” The bassist grinned, her smile just as inhibited as Marigold felt.
“I wish I were in love again, do you know that one?” She whispered for some unknown reason.
“Frank Sinatra style?” The saxophonist confirmed.
Marigold nodded eagerly and spun around to the microphone as the drummer counted them off. She began singing the words timidly at first, eyes drifting over the small audience. As promised, Jack and Henry started swaying like two old pals indeed.
It’s like singing in front of the group back at Hogwarts, it’s nothing, she told herself. She caught Henry’s eye contact, notching the way his eyes crinkled as he smiled proudly at her. She began singing more confidently, more passionately, her gaze never straying from him again. In turn, he whipped his head around at every turn, eager to hold that look.
As the song rounded to a close, Carol whistled and Jack helped her back down from the stage. Henry kissed her forehead, and older patrons complimented her, and she felt so warm and secure.
Henry had another drink and Marigold found it impossible to rip her eyes off him. It must be the alcohol, she told herself. But god did she feel something, that girlish feeling of pure fondness in a new crush.
It was adolescent, but she relished in the wave of emotions. They danced as Jack sang another, and she felt so amazing, to be there in Henry’s arms, so close to him. It was like all thoughts of Hogwarts and her boy troubles melted away, she allowed herself to live in the moment.
“Let’s go outside and smoke after this one,” He whispered in her ear, not unaware of the new way she was looking at him.
She nodded, she’d agree to anything he said at this point. The boy was positively enchanting, to be near him was to be overjoyed.
Outside he lit a smoke for them, placing them between her lips, after all, he was drunk too. It wasn’t electrifying, it wasn’t shocking, it just felt right, whatever it was between them.
“Are you hungry?” He scratched the back of his head after ashing the cig.
“There’s the bread at your place,” She informed.
“You know, I think it’ll go really well with this butter I traded a record for with my neighbor,” He suggested.
Their walk back home was closer, arm in arm to keep each other from slipping on the slick roads. And also just an excuse to touch one another.
Back at the shop, Henry led her up the stairs, bread under one arm, her hand in the other. He fetched the butter from the small ensuite kitchenette. Truth be told, it was all ensuite, his entire apartment. It was a rather unfurnished studio, but it had big windows and a perfectly plush appearing bed in the middle of the room.
Marigold helped herself to sit down on it, laying on her side to observe as he prepared the snack. She took the single plate gratefully and bit into a slice. He sat on the headboard and mulled over conversation topics.
“So who’s the guy?” He finally spoke.
“What guy?” Her eyebrows furrowed.
“The one you were upset about earlier, the one you sang the song about,” He shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant.
“Oh.” She looked down. “It’s more complicated than just a guy.”
“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” He assured.
“No I do, I should tell you.” She sighed, setting down the plate between them. “I’m not very good at the whole romance thing, you see,”
“Me neither, you heard Carol, I’ve never brought a girl around.”
“I had two guys, who I felt a lot for, probably more than I should’ve let myself…but things didn’t end happily. You see, they were two best friends,”
“Ah, did one get jealous?”
“No not like that, Re-well, one guy, he thought we ought to grow up. Didn’t think it would work out there in the real world, the fantasy we had made up in our minds about the three of us.”
“You were dating two friends?”
“Not dating, more like, fucking, you see.”
“Oh, I do see…”
“I’ve never been on a date even,”
“Really? A knockout like you? Neither of them could do that for you?” Henry leaned in slightly in disbelief.
“I suppose not, but it's long gone, those days with them. I haven’t spoken to either of them in months. I think all of them are at my friend James’ house for the holiday, James and Lily are a couple.”
“I could take you on a date you know if you ever wanted to…” Henry mumbled, fidgeting with his hands. “I wouldn’t even expect a second one, I’d understand.”
“Sure! What are you doing tomorrow night?” She laughed.
“Ooh, I’d have to check the schedule,” He joked, feigning thought as he lay down.
“Isn’t it weird, we just met yesterday, and I feel like I’ve known you for ages!” Marigold looked down at him fondly.
“I don’t know if I remember. What was it, you being clumsy?” He chuckled.
“Really? I think we met just like this,” She threw her arms around his shoulders, laying to the side as their faces meet mere inches away.
“I think I remember it now,” He gulped at her swift move for proximity.
“I think you’re really incredible, Henry,” She told him earnestly.
“I-I agree,” He stuttered, eyes subconsciously shifting to her lips.
“Just kiss me already,” She flirted.
He didn’t hesitate, he was quick to obey. The kiss was most satisfying, the kind that finally scratches that itch of pining and fascination. The kind that every little girl is told to dream of from her princess movies and what those great songwriters always focus on.
The kiss furthered till it was undeniable she’d be staying the night. It was safe and warm, and both of the teenagers felt beyond giddy and excited to share such a moment.
In the morning soft light fell on their naked, entangled bodies in the small bed, sheets, and pillows were thrown around haphazardly. Marigold woke up first, and she took the opportunity to thank the universe. She was feeling much more herself today.