Harry Baby

Chapter 4

"Hurry down the chimney tonight/ hurry! Tonight," I finish the last couple lines of the song. I now slightly and make my way back to our table. Harry is sitting there with his mouth hanging open and his eyes wide.

"Earth to Harry," I snap my fingers in front of his awe stricken face.

"You were absolutely incredible," he says exiting his trance. "I wish I had recorded it. Why aren't you famous yet?" he says.

"I wasn't that good. I'm happy you didn't, and I have no intention of being known world wide," I respond to all his comments.

"But you would be amazing," he says with a sincere look in his eyes.

"I'm flattered, but I like my simple life here in New York," I say finally taking my seat.

"You sing with a group don't you? Like a church choir or school chorus," Harry says.

"I used to sing to with my church," I say. He pounders this for a moment.

"I'm sure you had the most solos," he jokes.

"I had a few, but I wouldn't say I had the most," I say.

"I would have loved to see you preform," Harry says.

"You did very well, too," I say not knowing what else to say.

"Why thank you," he says. Just then I remembered where I heard his voice before.

"You lived in Cheshire didn't you?" I say randomly.

"Yes?" he says unsure.

"And worked in a bakery?" I also ask.

"Why are you asking all these questions?"

"Because your voice was so familiar. I remember hearing someone singing lightly in a bakery in England a few years ago," I say.

"Was I really that good?" he jokes.

"Yes, you were that good."

"How about we do a duet," Harry suggests.

"What?"

"You were amazing. I was amazing. Together, we would be phenomenal?" he says quicker.

"I wouldn't show off too much," I lean in closer. "Some people here were giving you the stink eye before," I say.

"I don't care. Now come on. I want to hear you sing again," he says.

"Fine," I give in.

"Yes!" he says.

"But after we eat," I add.

"Celebrated too soon," he breathes. I chuckle at his immaturity. He's sort of really sweet. I'm happy I choose to come here with him, and we haven't even been here that long. I wish I had more time with him tonight.

****

"So why did you choose to sing Santa Baby?" Harry ask as the waitress places our appetizer in front of us. We decided to share our appetizer because we both want fried calamari.

"Santa Baby has always been my favorite Christmas song. I mean who wouldn't want a convertible, or a yatch, or a duplex, or checks, or diamond rings," I explain.

"What about decorations from Tiffany's," he teases.

"I would like that, too," I respond.  Harry laughs and chokes on the piece of calamari in his mouth.

"Classy," I joke.

"Hey, I'm not the one with a greedy Christmas list," he says with food still in his mouth.

"I didn't think it was that greedy," I kid.

"Neither did Eartha Kitt," Harry says taking another bit of calamari.

"What about you. Why did you sing Christmas Don't Be Late?" I ask.

"Well," he swallows he's food, "it's my favorite Christmas song," Harry answers.

"It's by Alvin and Chipmunks.  Who can resist those little guys, right?" I tease.

"You know it," he laughs.

"My friend back home as a daughter, who's four, and Alvin and the Chipmunks is her favorite Christmas movie," Harry says.

"I'm guessing you miss her," I say.

"Yeah. I think I miss her daughter more than I do her," he smiles a bit.

"I was referring to the daughter," I joke to lighten the mood. Harry chuckles. There's a brief silence afterwards.

"So what else do you want for Christmas, besides a convertible, yatch, duplex, checks, and rings," Harry asks. I giggle again.

"I would love to get Maria to believe in Santa Clause again. I would love to buy Ally that karaoke machine she's been asking for the last three years. I would love to get Jessica lessons so she can finally learn to play the guitar and piano that she's been trying to teach herself to play. And it would be amazing if I could get Nicole and Georgia those new Barbie dolls they've wanted since there birthdays back in March.  And as much as my parents piss me off, it would be a miracle if I could buy my mom a car so she can work full time instead of waiting for my dad to get home, and if my dad somehow learned to cook so we didn't need to order take out everyday in order eat edible food," I list. "It sounds cliche, but that's my Christmas list," I add.

"This is going to sound cliche, too, but I'm actually happy that your Christmas list is more for you family than it is for you. Not many people are nice enough to think of others at Christmas," he says. I look down and blush.

"Now what do you want for you," he asks.

"I want to enjoy this Christmas," I say. Harry doesn't respond.

"Well I hope you get everything you want for Christmas. I think you deserve it," he eventually says.