Their voices fall together and entwine. Justin’s not bad—voice lighter and younger, but naturally on key and good at harmonizing—and they fit into melody with the ease of practice. This impromptu miniature concert spills out across the Witch’s Brew space. Brightens up espresso drips and blenders. Puts an extra shine on the pastry case, and merriment in the regulars’ smiles.
They flip it into Bobby Oake’s “All of the Days” after the first chorus. Sixty-year-old teenage dance-craze early rock and roll. All of the days, all of the ways, we’re getting closer. Let me count the days, let me count the ways, I get to know you.
They even throw in silly on-the-spot romantic gestures. Pointing at each other on the “you.” Matching finger-counting of pretend days, one-two-three. It’d be unbearably se
