Page 51 of My Heart Before You

“Not today,” he said in a way that hopefully conveyed that he wanted to continue their fun date instead of talking about his misfortune.

Taking his hint she asked lightly, “What are you going to play for me?”

He tried to keep the smirk from his smile. “You’ll have to wait and see.”

???

Colin was lucky to find street parking near the piano store that she directed him to after they finished their lunch. A large sign with a treble clef on it advertised the shop to the street. He held the door open for her as they walked into the building. There was a coat rack by the door, and he helped her out of hers before placing his over it on the rack. An elderly gentleman in a blue suit with a complimenting blue herringbone bow tie approached them.

“Welcome. How can I help you today?” His white mustache rose as he smiled.

“He’s here to buy a piano,” Emilie stated.

Colin’s head snapped to stare at her.

“What kind of space do you have?” the man asked her. “We have mostly grand pianos on this floor, but upstairs we have a few uprights.”

The salesman probably thought they were a couple, maybe even lived together. The thought warmed and stirred something in his chest.

Emilie looked at him to answer and he coughed. “Unfortunately, it would have to be an upright.” He shrugged. “City living.”

They followed the gentleman upstairs to a white bricked room filled with at least ten grand pianos. In the corner sat two uprights: one in a lacquered black, and the other a warm walnut that looked just like his family piano. He walked silently to the walnut one and paused a moment before pulling back the humble wooden bench to have a seat.

“We’ll just need a minute,” she said.

“Take your time.” The old man’s footfalls receded down the stairs.

Lifting the fallboard, he gently pushed it back from the white and black keys. He’d forgotten she was behind him until she pulled the black piano bench right next to his. With a little melodic noise, she sat and put her large purse on the other side of the bench, scooting even closer to him. He took a halting inhale, not sure if he could play mistake free with her so close.

“So what’ll it be?”

He glanced at her lovely freckled face. “I was classically trained, so it won’t be a popular song like I played at the party.”

“I like all music. I even contribute to the local PBS station. I used to put classical music on in the car back home to keep me from road raging on all the other incompetent drivers.” She braced her hands behind her on the bench and leaned back.

“Sounds like you are an aggressive driver,” he teased.

“I’m pretty forgiving of most things, but if you don’t know how to drive, you shouldn’t be on the road.” She pointed to the piano. “You’re stalling. This was part of our deal. My lunch company for your favorite song.”

He leaned forward, his hands hovering just over the keys before starting with the strong first few bars of music. Letting his body relax, he felt that lightness he always did when he played this piece. The dominant cadence led into the repeat with the momentary key change before lightening to a hint of his favorite part to come.

Circling through the repeats, he finally reached the counter melody; it sang out so sweetly to him, as if the piano was expressing his innermost soul. A familiar flush resonated over his skin as his right hand delicately held the longer notes while his left hand wavered over and over creating a rolling, undulating balance to the pleading nature of the right.

Gradually picking up the main theme, he increased the volume and vigor, pounding out the joyful notes. His fingers felt as if they were dancing out the next several bars, accelerating rapidly to the end. With a quick, quiet prance of the final two keys, he immediately pulled his hands from the piano.

“‘Rachmaninoff’s Prelude in G minor.’ Nicely done!” The gentleman’s voice brought him out of his musical focus and back to his surroundings.

He turned over his shoulder to nod his thanks to the older man, and saw that Emilie seemed to be in a trance gazing at where his hands had been over the keys. It took her several seconds to notice that the salesman was standing next to them again.

When she eventually pulled her eyes from the still subtly vibrating piano, she grinned playfully at the salesman. “It’s no ‘Flight of the Bumblebee.’”

Colin waited until her eyes met his before letting a smirk lace his lips and turning to the keys. Starting into the rapid song she’d just listed, he continued for about ten seconds, which was enough of the piece to make his point before laughing and pulling his hands from the piano.

“I haven’t played that one in a while. I only remember the beginning.”

Her open mouth and look of shock said it all.

“With your talent, you really should have a piano at home.” The older man winked, seeming to figure out that the woman accompanying him was not someone whom he lived with, but whom he wanted to impress. “I’ll be downstairs when you are ready.”

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