“I think I’m really starting to feel this cake right now,” I told Rina. Maybe it was all the chocolate and truffle, or maybe it was the rum, but I felt pretty relaxed and elated.
She clicked her tongue, and then hiccupped loudly as she finished the last of the cake. She placed a hand over her mouth, and I chuckled.
“For the record: it wasyouwho wanted these damned balls in your mouth, not me. Now we’re both facing the consequence of your temptation,” I said.
She gasped and slapped me on the arm, which made me laugh.
A screech of the microphone pierced the air. Rina and I looked ahead, just as everyone in the choir introduced themselves, announced that they were now accepting bookings for shows, and that this was a quick preview session for anyone who wanted to hire them, and then started singingDeck the Halls.
A small crowd had formed around them, their phones in front of them as they recorded the group.
I turned to look at Rina, and saw her watching the choir with longing on her face.
When she’d told me about her love for Christmas carols, she’d also told me how her and her dad would sing them every year from the beginning of November up until New Year’s Eve, even though it wasn’t exactly logical. She really enjoyed singing with him, and Christmas carols were just something that made her feel connected to him, even now.
I bumped my knee against hers, and she tilted her head upwards. Giving her a smile, I got to my feet and offered her a hand, which she took without hesitation. That little resolute decision of hers did something to me – something profoundly warm – and so, instead of trying to put a name to it, I embraced it fully.
“My, my; don’t you look absolutelylovelyin my arms,” I said as I pulled her close.
She chuckled, but stopped as she hiccupped, and then perked up when the choir began singingSilentNight. Her eyes all but sparkled, and when I lifted a brow at her, she tapped the middle finger of her left hand against her chin twice.
I shook my head. “I don’t get it.” I really didn’t like saying that to her. I wanted to genuinely invest my time in conversing with her like this, but my lack of knowledge in Sign was making it difficult for me to do anything in that department. I had to rectify that as soon as possible.
Rina must’ve seen the struggle on my face, because she ran her fingers over my jaw before giving me a quick peck on the cheek. She then pointed at the still-singing choir, tapped her left ear, and then gave me a thumbs up.
Ah, yes, now I understood what she meant. “This is your favorite Christmas carol,” I said.
She beamed up at me, and then gave me another thumbs up. When I sighed, she touched her index and middle fingers to her mouth before moving them upwards.
“Sing?” I guessed.
She nodded, and then tapped my chest.
“You wantmeto sing?”
Another nod, followed by a hiccup.
“Rina, I can’t, for the life of me, sing a carol, let aloneanything,” I told her honestly. “Even my bathroom walls start closing in on me when I occasionally hum in the shower. It’s terrifying, trust me.”
She laughed, and then once again signed for me to sing.
“No.”
She tugged at the collar of my sweater with a look of plea on her face.
“No, Rina.”
She pouted a little, to which I huffed.
“Fine,” I relented, “but if people suddenly start throwing stones at us, don’t be surprised.”
She rolled her eyes and gestured for me to get on with it.
I cleared my throat, just as the choir started singingO Come All Ye Faithful. I decided to sing along, but softer so that onlyRina could hear. I did warn her about the stones, but that didn’t mean I was ready to experience them firsthand. No, thank you very much.
“O come, all ye faithful, joyful and triumphant! O come ye, O come ye, to Bethlehem…” I cleared my throat again, as if that would be of any reasonable help. “Come and behold Him, born the King of Angels…”
Rina brushed the tips of her slightly cold fingers over my mouth and smiled, just as a thin sheet of snow began falling on and around us. A few small flakes fell on her cheeks, and I followed them as they traveled from her chin to her coat.
