I cross the street, slip inside the store, and I’m hit at once with the sensual sounds of classical music and a romantic, floral scent that complements it perfectly.
I close my eyes and stand there for a second. It’s been how long since I’ve had an instrument underneath my fingers?
Too long. Way too long.
I remember Tamara lying in the sun on the beach during one of her trips down to Mexico. “Isn’t this amazing?” she’d murmured to me. “To just lie in the sun and soak it all up?”
That’s how I feel in this store. Like I’m soaking up life, nature, beauty.
It’s incredible.
I don’t open my eyes until I start to sense that I’m being watched. When I do, I see a little girl crouched behind the grand piano and staring at me with that open, child-like curiosity.
I’ve seen her before. She’s here most mornings and evenings with her parents, who own the store. Whenever I walk past this shop, she’s here.
“I know you,” she mumbles to me.
“Do you?” I ask with a warm smile.
She has mousy brown hair that’s been braided into pigtails and tied together with neon pink scrunchies. Bright, observant eyes. A generous double helping of freckles.
“You walk by here all the time,” she says, as if she’s informing me of that fact.
“I do,” I chuckle. “I really like this store. It smells nice.”
She smiles shyly. “I’m Katie.”
“I’m Esme.”
“Do you play any instruments?” Katie asks.
“Yes,” I tell her. “Piano.”
“Really?” she asks. Her eyes go wide with renewed interest. “I just started to learn, but it’s really hard.”
“It can be,” I concede. “Why don’t you show me what you’ve learned?”
She twists back and forth, hands tucked behind her.
“I bet you’re really good,” I coax. “Come here. Pop up on the bench and teach me something.”
She can’t resist that. With a smile, she scurries around the piano. We settle down on the bench together.
But Katie loses her nerve suddenly. She glances up at me, chin wobbling like she might cry.
“Tell you what,” I reassure her, “I’ll go first. Okay?”
She nods, a little appeased by that.
I glance up and notice the man standing in the opposite corner of the store. He’s got the same mousy brown hair as Katie, though it’s wispier than his daughter’s.
He meets my eye, and gives me a small nod of encouragement. so I assume it’s okay for me to play his piano.
I turn my attention back to the instrument.
It feels so good to have my hands poised over piano keys again. I didn’t realize I’d missed it this much. It’s like I can breathe again for the first time in a long time.
I stroke the first key and it’s like I’m floating away.