Victor hesitated at the door, wringing his ascot furiously, even though he had just fixed it. He knew that Emily was inside, probably fuming, but more likely (judging by the tone of the song she was playing), she was miserable. Either way, Victor was at a loss for words, not to mention actions.
"Thank you, Bonejangles, for your pearls of wisdom," he muttered irately, pacing back and forth in front of the door, sidling away and shuffling back again, "What do I do? Just walk in and start playing? No, no, that won't do…Maybe I should go think this over first…"
He walked away resolutely, only to hesitate once again. "No," he told himself sternly, "I have to start taking responsibility for my actions. This is as good a time as any…I suppose…"
Sighing deeply, Victor turned on his heel and back to the door of the pub, where he found Scraps holding Emily's tattered bouquet in his mouth. The little dog put it down delicately in front of his master and looked at him expectantly with his empty sockets, his tail waving to and fro.
Victor picked it up, determined this time, and walked into the dilapidated building before his doubts turned him out again.
Emily sat with her back to him, playing a simple, morose tune. Victor walked up behind her, and she pointedly ignored him. He cleared his throat…Nothing; no sign of acknowledgement, she just kept on playing. Finally deciding that he would indeed have to speak, Victor came around to her right side, holding out the bouquet uncertainly.
"I…" he started, hoping to say 'I'm sorry', but it came out, "I think you dropped this."
Victor mentally slapped himself. He was progressing abominably, and he had only just started! Emily apparently agreed, because she turned even farther from him and played a little louder. Victor sighed and set the bouquet on the top of the coffin-shaped piano before sitting down beside her. They were silent for a moment when Victor saw a movement out of the corner of his eye. He turned to see Bonejangles, waving at him from the kitchen doorway. The skeleton made an ushering sign with his hands that Victor should start playing. Victor raised his eyebrows tentatively, and earnestly, Bonejangles nodded.
Gulping, Victor turned back to the piano.
God help me, he prayed silently before placing his hands on the sunken keys. He listened to a short phrase in Emily's song before she paused. In this pause, Victor mimicked the tune.
The Corpse Bride shot him a distasteful glare before continuing. Again, at the end of the phrase, Victor doggedly copied it, a little more confidently this time. Emily only rolled her eyes and played what sounded like the end of the song. Not if Victor could help it! He began playing a beautiful tinkling melody and stopped hesitantly, waiting for Emily to…do something. She didn't, so he kept playing, but this time, Emily joined in enthusiastically, giving Victor a halfhearted smile before it broke into a complete grin. In perfect time with one another, their song wafted through the dank air of the Ball and Socket Pub. Emily's hand rushed up the keys impressively, but didn't stop at arm's length; snapping off at the wrist, her bony hand continued up and up, climbing to Victor's shoulder, twirling and tapping, before it stopped.
She giggled and said softly, "Pardon my enthusiasm."
Victor took her displaced hand and popped it back in place, smiling. "I like your enthusiasm."
Bonejangles walked into the kitchen, smirking. "I think my work here is done," he told himself, and sat at the large wooden table next to the stove.
"Aren't they sweet?" Mrs. Plum, the cook, said as she peeked at Victor and Emily. "You really can solve any problem involving love, can't you, Bonejangles? Pity you don't have a girl of your own."
"Aw, come on, Miss Plum, you know I don't need any gal when I've got you!" Bonejangles joked.
Mrs. Plum laughed, embarrassed. "Oh, pish-posh!"
Bonejangles scraped idly at some flour caught in the grain of the wood of the table. "Y'know," he said quietly, "There…there was one girl. A long time ago." He looked up at Mrs. Plum. "I mean a long time ago. Before I kicked the bucket."
Mrs. Plum waited. "And? Tell me about her."
Bonejangles took off his beloved bowler hat, fingering the frayed silk before reaching in the cap and pulling out a ragged black and white photograph. He looked at it fondly before handing it over to the cook. The girl in the photo was dressed in a knee-length, loose dress and had long strings of pearls around her neck. She wore a scarf wrapped around her head, over her dark bobbed hair. She was smiling shyly and looked up with her doe eyes from under thick mascara-ed eyelashes. On the bottom right corner of the photo was a fading pink lip print and the words "With love from LuLu".
"What a pretty little thing," Mrs. Plum smiled.
"Ain't she a doll?" Bonejangles purred. "She woulda been mine, but…"
Mrs. Plum patted him sympathetically on the back and gave him the photo.
"I'm sorry," she said.
"Nah, it's cool."
They both jumped when a large dinner bell was rung out in the pub. Mrs. Plum rushed gleefully out of the kitchen and cried, "New arrival!"
Bonejangles dashed out behind her, just as excited, to see the cook flirting with a drab looking man with plain clothes and a tall hat. Bonejangles' spirits fell, but he didn't let it show.
Maybe next time, he told himself. Just gotta be patient…
whee! 'nother chapter coming soon, i promise!
