Page 47 of Anatomy of a Meet Cute
Letting her hand drop, Sam said, “Actually, I was wondering. How was this place set up when your sister played here?”
Grant’s expression melted into another warm, gentle smile, and Sam almost melted right along with it. “They used this side room as more of a food area. The show was in the main room. She was playing as part of a youth-orchestra fundraising event. You know, where these programs trot out their best three players and have them show off for the donors.”
“Peak big-brother-duty event,” Sam joked.
“Oh, totally.”
“Did you ever feel bad about not being a musician?” Sam asked, partly out of curiosity and partly because she couldn’t imagine what it was like to sit through his sister’s concerts knowing his parents wanted that for him too. The pressure alone would have kept Sam playing the piano until judgment day. “How did your parents take it when you told them no?”
“It’s funny. I used to feel so bad about not being a musician. I was so worried about letting my parents down. The truth was, I’d been mediocre at it for so long they saw it coming a mile off. I feel like my mom gave me a hug and delivered this slightly dramatic monologue about me finding my true path. I think my dad just made a joke about not having to pay for lessons anymore.”
“Must have been nice.” Sam’s heart squeezed. She and Grant had family expectations in common. But where she couldn’t seem to make her mother understand, he felt loved.
“You know, it was. Not feeling the comparison between my sisters and me also helped our relationship tremendously.”
“I can imagine. I mean, not the part where my parents would ever be cool about me not doing what they want. But the part where you and your sisters get along better.” Sam laughed, hoping to cover the gaping hole in her own family story with a joke. The idea that someone could disappoint their parents and still want to see their family felt like the cognitive equivalent of putting a shoe on the wrong foot. Instinctively, she knew it was possible for people to do this, but she couldn’t figure out how to make the same happen for herself.
“I got lucky in the parent department.” Grant paused and looked up at the ceiling, as if the rest of his thoughts were up there. After a moment, he turned his gaze back to her and added, “In the end, I was the one beating myself up over not being a musician. I mean, don’t get me wrong—there was definitely an adjustment period, and they still make me play at holidays and things, but I don’t mind that. I think my being honest made everyone happier in the end.”
“I want to be invited to a holiday party so I can hear you play.” Sam smiled over at him. A small piece of her hoped that if she hung around Grant long enough, whatever magic made telling your family a difficult truth and reaching an understanding would rub off on her. Maybe family could become easy and less messy for her too.
“Trust me. Time has not made me better. You don’t want to hear me play.” Grant laughed.
“Agree to disagree.” Sam shrugged and Grant shook his head. “Finish telling me about your sister and the staff.”
“Oh, right. So it was a big deal for my sister to be selected for the showcase so young, and my parents had bought a special dress for the occasion. The food was amazing, and they offered it to her, but she was afraid of getting even a crumb on her dress, so she wouldn’t eat anything. Spent the whole night gazing at the buffet longingly. My dad told the caterers, and they actually boxed up all the fancy stuff so she could try it once she got home.”
“That is adorable,” Sam said, watching him light up as he talked about his family. She was simply enjoying the glow of the nostalgia he was basking in.
Grant turned and began guiding them back into the main room. Gesturing toward the fountain area, he kept his voice low as he said, “They had her set up right over there. Obviously, they want the donors sitting up front, so my dad and I just kind of hovered back here. At one point, I went over to get a drink—I’d just turned twenty-one, so basically I had to show off—and I come back, and my dad is all choked up watching her play. The staff actually brought him a cocktail napkin so he could wipe his eyes. He was so proud of her.”
For a moment, Sam didn’t say anything, afraid that she would break the spell. Instead, she just watched him, his gaze directed at the floor where his father would have stood, a smile playing with one side of his mouth. This memory was personal and quiet. It still had Grant’s pride attached to it, but this was a soft satisfaction. There was no bravado connected to this, just an older brother who was proud of his little sister and found joy in having a tenderhearted father.
The sound of Yesenia’s dress shoes clicking across the floor broke Grant’s reverie, and he looked up suddenly, forcing Sam to look away.
“Anyway, they have good staff here,” Grant said, the gentle version of him evaporating in an instant. “Should we go look at those dressing rooms?”
“I mean, we should. They were the selling point, after all,” Sam said, pointedly ignoring the ache she felt as the moment passed.
“Shall we?” Grant’s lips quirked into a half smile as he extended his elbow to her again.
Sam glanced at the elbow, then up at him. Taking a deep breath, she looped her arm through his and said, “Lead the way.”
Chapter Thirteen
It took everything in Sam not to bounce up and down as the ice cream attendant handed her a cone full of green-chili ice cream. She even managed to wait until Grant accepted a deeply standard-sounding mango ice cream, and they made it out of the store before taking a lick. Closing her eyes, she let the surprising sweetness wash over her tongue, getting just a tiny kick of spice on the back end of her first taste. Opening her eyes, she sighed, as people Hula-Hooped in the park up the street.
“Is the ice cream weird?” Grant asked, watching her with a mix of apprehension and skepticism. “It sounded weird to me.”
“It is not weird. It is delicious.” Sam took another swipe at her ice cream before asking, “Is yours boring? It sounded boring.”
“Who thinks mango is boring?” Grant laughed, and the small knot in Sam’s chest loosened. When Grant had suggested they get ice cream, she was worried that the spell cast by the Lost Key would be broken. But his sense of humor seemed to want to stick around.
“It’s boring when you have flavors like green chili, avocado, and black sesame to try,” Sam continued to needle. Half grinning over at him, she watched as he shook his head and tucked into his cone.
“I had no idea you had such strong feelings about ice cream.”
“Oh, but I do. Jehan and I are using ice cream as a reason to get out and see the city. I don’t have a lot of time off, but the time I do have is spent trying different ice cream spots around the Bay.”
