VIII. Under the rain

With Eda being sleepy, the silence ruled again in the car. Upon few minutes leaving Terence's house, rain began to fall on the city; gradually, its intensity grew, and I suspected that it would at least linger until the next day's morning. Hermione apathetically watched the scrolling wet concrete, losing sometimes focus to only meet with the pouring droplets on the windows. I guessed we were all a little bit drowsy.

"By the way," I said, "Maria might be a good piano teacher for Eda, don't you think?"

"She suggested the same thing", she replied. "It's a good deal since she's willing to do it for free, and I'll just have to buy a piano at home."

"I can do that much. Money isn't my first problem."

"I'll gladly accept then." she replied as resigning on the current conversation.

As awkward as I usually was, I could only reply with nothing. I quickly searched for something else to say.

"Would you mind going on a date with me tomorrow?"

Her attention broke off of the rainy scenery and rather fell on me. She showed a curious expression.

"Finally manning up. And where?"

"How about a surprise date?"

"You have none idea then. Alright, I'll go with you, surprise me," she tauntingly replied.

On that, the familiar silence resumed and I quickly drove to Hermione's place. After a while, we were finally under the dim street lamps of her neighborhood, with the almost deafening sound of the evening rain. I didn't prepared for the eventuality of a downpour, but Hermione didn't seemed ready for that too. She sighed and threw a glance towards the rear seat, where the little girl was already deep in slumber, lulled by the invariant drizzles and eyes tight. I rapidly told her that I'd cover both of them with my jacket. Hermione refused at first, but after few minutes convincing her, quietly in order not to wake up the little one, she reluctantly accepted.

I went out first, rapidly drenched after, and upon sheltering myself with my jacket, I went to Hermione's side and opened the door. The moment that followed was magic; in the coldness of the rain, her warm was enough to make me as delirious as a feverish. We walked to Eda's side, Hermione opened the door and she carried her in her arms. Before resuming walking until their doorstep, she carefully curled up some of Eda's rebellious hair. So we walked, and walked, until the said place. The mother opened the door and rapidly gestured me to come in; my soaked clothes left some trails on her carpet as we headed to Eda's room.

The latter was rather narrow, or spacious, as one might say, for a kid; the bed was next to the door, with a wide closet in it and a small table for a study, filled with dreams packed into drawings. Quite childish for her age, the several books in there were erasing that first impression, ranging from Antoine de St.Exupéry's 'The Little Prince', to Homer's 'Iliad and Odyssey'. I watched from the door; Hermione quietly put her daughter in the bed, wrapped the sheets and she kissed her forehead. She sweetly looked at her sleeping face, smiling as gently, before turning off the light and closing the door.

Hermione then handed me a towel, and while I was drying myself in the leaving room, she prepared two cups of hot chocolate. The fragrant scent of chocolate and cinnamon imbibed the small apartment; it reminded me of the instances when she was baking, or cooking, or simply brewing tea. She used to come a lot to my place, since my father was always busy (as for my mother, I didn't know a single thing on her because she left when I was still a baby), then I particularly loved when she made a meal for the two of us; we would later take dinner like an old married couple, while telling back how our day have been. Afterwards, I'd take her home and she'd dance as singing under the dim lights of an evening town in middle of nowhere.

My reminiscence took an end when she gave me the hot cup. She sat in the couch without a word and began to chug her beverage. As for me, I just stood up and hurried to finish the hot chocolate. At some point, I remembered to thank her, before complimenting her kitchen skills; I still had my recollection in mind at the time. She only replied with a muffled sound. I finally told her that I was about to leave, and she came back after few seconds with an umbrella, while I was waiting at the door step.

"Don't forget to bring it back with you tomorrow. Our date, 10 a.m., and the umbrella."

"Our date, 10 am, and the umbrella", I paraphrased. "Well, I'll go then."

She closed the door and I went to my car. Though, she rapidly partly opened, and let out a mild voice.

"Good night, Ed."

"Sleep tight, good night, Hermione. And bid my good night to Eda too if she wakes up again."

The door closed once and for all. I reached my apartment under several minutes and faced the ceiling on my bed; I had to find a correct first date for Hermione and me. I thought about the kind of date I wanted to have myself; as thinking, I soon understood that all the things I've done with Hermione back when we were young were probably the nearest to a date. I decided to invite her to my place and cook together since drowsiness was drowning me; maybe her brewing hot chocolate earlier really made me nostalgic to a point where I just wanted to relive it all again. I took a moment before shutting me eyes. I imagined her as vividly as possible, as in my memories; her smile, her scent, her curled red hair, her freckles, I imagined it all, and it made me miserable. For the first time, I remembered how little time I had left. So, I closed my eyes and pretended never having these thoughts.

The next morning, I woke up around half past nine; surely I would be late for my date. I took a very quick shower and dressed as urgently, as though the world would collapse. By the time I finished, it was already ten o'clock; I went down to the parking lot and finally noticed that yesterday's rain wasn't still over, and that I had forgotten my keys and my phone. I went back up, went down, verified for anything left, recalled the umbrella, went back up, went down, and headed like a mad man to Hermione's place. I parked the car and rushed through the rain without even opening the umbrella, before running up the stairs to her apartment.

She was impatiently waiting before her door, in more casual clothes, namely with a brown loose cardigan that makes her style. Hands in her pockets, she frowned as seeing my exhausted face, and as well as for my drenched suit. A smile soon enough replaced her annoyance, which she hid with great concern from me; nevertheless, I knew her well enough to tell that she was trying to keep her composure. She looked at me again, from head to toes and let out a merry laugh.

"I gave you the umbrella for a good reason, dummy," she said as suppressing her laugh. "Look at you now, soaked to the bones."

"At less you aren't blaming me for being late," I replied. "Getting wet sure was worth avoiding that."

"I am still mad that you're half an hour late, but I might forgive you depending on how well goes our date," she added. "Where are we going then?"

"Huh," I muttered. "I thought about cooking together at my place." She raised an eyebrow.

"Your place?" she asked.

"Kinda weird for a first date, I know," I awkwardly answered. "I'll explain later, alright?"

"Let's begin our date then," she clapped her hands. "And this time, properly use the umbrella please," she joked.

I was relieved to see that she was in the good mood of going on a date. I found it weird somehow that she was so nice to me, but I really couldn't care more at the time. We crossed the hallways in silence before I had to open the umbrella for the two of us; she took my arm and grasped on it like a kitten would on its mother. At some point, she began to hum I'm singing in the rain, as slowly rocking her head. She looked at my eyes and hummed louder as though inviting me to do so; I was happy that I parked the car quite farther that day. At last we reached the car and I drove back.

"Is that just me or you're weirdly nice with me?" I asked.

"It's just you," she teased. "Can't you just enjoy it? I'm in a good mood."

"And why is that?"

"Can't tell you," she teased again. "Or maybe if you told me," she suggestively added.

"Can't tell you, in six days maybe," I repeated.

"Keep your secrets then," she funnily added. "Anyway, why is our date at your place? Couldn't you just take me to a good restaurant or to see a movie?"

"I thought about it, seriously, but these are just awkward; going to the restaurant is just talking with the mouth full, and going to see a movie is just silently staying in a dark room."

"Funny," she said. "And what makes your place different?"

"We'll still be talking with our mouth full, but at least we won't be embarrassed, right? And it will be bright and noisy with our talking."

"I'm a little bit convinced," she joked. "Hope you'll hold up to my expectances."

"I must," I added. "I wanted to ask about Eda," I continued.

"What about Eda?"

"No, just wanted to know what she's doing while her mother's on a date."

"She's staying with Maria, taking a piano lesson. I called her back in a hurry yesterday when you invited me."

"You were adamant on going out with me?"

She averted her eyes and tightened her lips; underneath her freckles, I could distinguish the vermillion of her cheeks.

"It's the first time, you know," she bashfully murmured.

Even I was embarrassed before her sudden change of behavior. But I really couldn't care more at the time, again. Several minutes later, after another short stroll sharing the umbrella, I was entering my key in the lock hole to open the door. Hermione let out a whistle of admiration as we entered in. I didn't really put my attention on it since I was always in a hurry, but my apartment was definitely spacious, and well-decorated. I removed my jacket and let Hermione to the kitchen.

"So, what are we cooking?"

"No idea," I replied. "We should start by looking for the cooking pots and pans, and also the plates and the spoons and forks."

"Was that a joke?"

"I don't cook too much," I lied.

Hermione sighed and began to scavenge for the utensils. Fortunately, my fridge had some frozen meat in eat with some vegetables. She rolled up her sleeves before putting a pan and a pot on the stove. She looked from my shoulder to see the interior of the fridge where upon she ordered me to cut them in pieces. While hearing Hermione holding back her laugh, I was desperately looking for a knife and a cutting board. She found it in less than half a minute; she ridiculed me after. Her antics continued as I gauchely chopped the vegetables. She decided to continue my labor when I cut my finger around finishing half of it.

So I watched her while trying to stop my finger from bleeding. The most mundane things, provided that it's in private, can become a very amazing scenery; the grace of her hands slicing vegetables astonished me, I was almost idiotic from watching her. And the scent of the rain, which I ignored why floated in the room, added a final stroke to that beautiful canvas. I raised my gaze to meet with her intense eyes; she smiled at me. I quickly averted my sight away. She carried on and ultimately made the entire meal since I was too clumsy; seeing me embarrassed was a fair enough retribution already.

I watched her, and she cooked a stew; it was the perfect time given the weather. And after two hours, about half of which we waited, our meal was ready. I searched for bowls and we sat on the couch as searching for a movie to watch. Knowing Hermione, she would pick up a cheap rom-com passing on any random channel. Then, she'd laugh at how terribly written it was, and she still could enjoy it fully; she kept quiet during sweet scenes, with a satisfied grin on her face. And that's exactly how we spent away the afternoon; the channel we landed on broadcasted three of these in succession, and by the time we ended, Hermione was dying of laugh. Also, the rain had stopped, but grey clouds were still heavily hanging mid-air, letting only enough space for a meager rainbow on the edge of the sky.

Around five, Hermione asked me for a ride to take Eda, before accompanying her home. I gladly accepted and we headed over Terence's house. The old man was sitting on his porch, closing his eyes and closely listening to her wife playing the piano, interrupted very often by Eda's inexperienced hands. His trance ended as hearing my car getting nearer and parking. He only greeted Hermione as she knocked on the door. As for me, I was staying in the car and observing the old man. He got up and came to greet me as well.

"I heard from my wife Hermione had something to do. A date with you, right?" the old man asked.

"Bull's-eye, I took her to my place and we watched movies." I replied.

"Everything's good then. Hold in there, kid, fix your shit."

"What's up with you waiting outside, anyway? Still avoiding Maria?"

"I decided to go home earlier to listen to her," he admitted. "I'm a coward, you know?"

"Aren't we all?"

"You're just a losing dog."

"Shut up, old man."

The door opened as revealing Hermione taking Eda's hand, while chatting with the old man's wife. Maria noticed my car and waved at my direction, so I waved back. The little girl happily walked until my car as humming Twinkle, twinkle little star, which I suspected she learnt from the piano course. She got in the rear seat, greeted me as joyfully, and I drove back to their home. The way took less time than the eve, possibly because the rain had stopped.

"Eda, you can already go back in," she said as giving the little girl the key.

"Ok, bye Dad," the latter replied before rushing to the apartment. Kids are weird, right? Always as though they were in a hurry.

"Guess you have something to tell me." I continued.

"Yeah," she muttered. "First, thanks for the date. It was nice."

"You're welcome. And then?"

"There's an art atelier at the museum where I work."

"You work in a museum?"

"Being an art critic is my living. Most of the time, I'm just asked to comment pieces for their magazine," she stopped and got back to the main topic. "Wanna go with me?"

"For a second date?"

"More or less," she bashfully said. "Actually, it was for Eda but I wanted to practice painting again too."

"I'm fine with that. I'd very much appreciate another one of your paintings. When is it?"

"You could make it for after tomorrow morning as well?"

"I'm free until my death," I truthfully said. With the time I had left, nothing else was making sense; free or not, I could liberate myself for anything. I had nothing left to lose.

"Alright. We'll be waiting for you at 10 then." she finally said. "See you."

"See you in a day."

As she went away, I started the engine and realized something. I rapidly called her back.

"What about the umbrella?" I joked.