Page 34 of Unlocking Melodies

His smile was quick and painful. “I'm not sure we ever knew how it was supposed to end.”

The weight of the moment was broken by what had to be the most poorly orchestrated casual walk-by in small-town history.

Mrs. Henderson appeared at the window, peering intently at a mailbox she'd already checked four times today. “Oh my! Is that music I hear? How lovely. And completely unexpected. On my fifth trip to check my mail. Which is totally normal.”

She was followed shortly by Riley, notepad in hand. “Fascinating architectural details on this window frame. The craftsmanship is really best appreciated from this exact angle. No other reason I'm here.”

Officer Dawn's patrol car rolled past at approximately two miles per hour, window down to better appreciate the... parking lot security situation?

“Is the entire town taking turns spying on us?” I asked, caught between embarrassment and amusement.

“I believe Mrs. Peterson is next on the rotation,” Ethan said dryly. “She usually brings opera glasses.”

The fact that he'd noticed the town's surveillance schedule made me bite back a smile. Through the window, I caught sight of Nina slipping Liam what looked suspiciously like betting money.

“They had a pool going about the piano, didn't they?”

“Knowing this town? They probably have pools about everything.” His composure was back, but there was something softer in it now. “I believe Sky is running the betting operation out of The Daily Grind.”

“Complete with a color-coded spreadsheet, I'm sure.”

“Naturally. I've seen it. Very professional setup.”

Looking at him now, caught between amusement and exasperation at our impromptu audience, I felt something shift.

Maybe Nina was right. Maybe we didn't need to remember everything to build something new. Maybe some stories were better started fresh, even if they carried echoes of old melodies.

“You know,” I said, turning back to the piano, “I think I have an idea for that ending.”

His surprise was visible for just a moment before his usual mask slipped back into place. But when I started playing - something lighter this time, more hopeful - he joined in without hesitation.

Through the window, I could see our audience growing. The entire quilting society had apparently decided to take up bird watching. In the parking lot. At dusk.

But for once, I didn't mind the attention. Let them watch. Let them see two people finding their way back to something - or forward to something new. Either way, it made for a pretty good story

“I assume you have an exponentially more expensive coffee source than The Daily Grind,” I said, our hands still moving over the keys in easy harmony.

“Lorenzo's Premium Bean Service,” he admitted with a hint of self-deprecation. “They refuse to deliver here. Sky takes great pleasure in reminding me daily.”

“Ah yes, how's your tab doing?”

“Apparently I'm up to three figures. I tried to pay it off and Mrs. Henderson threatened to call my father.”

That startled a laugh out of me. “Being defeated by small-town economics, I see.”

“It's a surprisingly effective system. Though I'm still trying to understand why Buck at the feed store insists I now have credit for three bags of horse treats.”

“Melody's influence, obviously. She's very persuasive.”

“Is that what we're calling her escape artist routine?” His fingers picked out a playful counter-melody to mine. “I had to explain to my board of directors why there were horse noises during our quarterly review.”

“Please tell me someone recorded that call.”

“My secretary has it saved for future blackmail purposes.” He hit a deliberately wrong note, making me grin. “She's quite impressed with the town's surveillance operation, by the way. Wants to hire Mrs. Henderson for corporate intelligence.”

Through the window, the quilting society had been joined by what appeared to be the entire senior bowling league. Someone had brought lawn chairs.

“Should we give them a show?” I suggested, shifting into something more dramatic.

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