Page 20 of The Sound of Harmony

ChapterSix

Emma and her best friend Brooke only spent time together when they were doing productive things. Brooke worked at the library during the day, made artisan soap at night, sang soprano in her church choir, and was planning her wedding next year. Emma worked whenever she could, trying to get her business off the ground. Long lunches or even drinks were almost always impossible, so she and Brooke had learned to double up—running errands together, taking walks, or doing meal prep at Emma’s place. Emma attended all of Brooke’s craft shows and Brooke was always up for a trip to IKEA or Home Goods.

Sunday afternoon, they were at Ohio Ivory in Columbus, looking at pianos big enough to satisfy a professional musician and small enough to fit into a hundred-year-old house. Emma carried a legal pad where she’d noted the common dimensions of pianos and the measurements of Kendrick’s entryway, along with a list of brands he approved of and those he didn’t.

Brooke was wearing one of her librarian outfits—baggy dress and striped cardigan. She’d knotted her hair on top of her head and today’s glasses were bold and black-framed. She also wore a new diamond ring and a smile big enough for the whole room. She was madly in love with her fiancé and details of the upcoming wedding poured out of her.

“And we’re going to have our reception at the Riverwalk Inn,” Brooke said. “It’s beautiful in June, with their gardens blooming.”

“Sounds lovely.”

“And did I tell you that we’re thinking about Mexico for our honeymoon?”

“You did.” Emma moved past the upright pianos in the front of the store, heading toward the grands in the back.

“I’d love to go to Europe,” Brooke said. “But that’s too expensive.”

“Maybe someday,” Emma said.

“And I have to think about cake. All the weddings I’ve been to this year had the classic tiered cakes with pink roses on them. So boring. I want something more fun. Less old-fashioned. I keep looking at pictures of British cakes with drip icing, wondering if anyone around here does them like that.”

“If that’s what you want, that’s what you should have.”

“If I bring a picture and a budget, do you think the bakery is going to laugh in my face?”

“No one is going to laugh,” Emma said. Brooke had been like this ever since Theo popped the question three weeks ago. The whole thing was too new for Brooke to contain in an orderly fashion so bits of it spilled out here and there in a mess of jumbled excitement. Emma’s job was to be a sounding board as Brooke worked through possibilities.

She was glad to have Brooke’s words to focus on, so she didn’t have to listen to the jangled music bouncing around the warehouse-sized store. Emma hadn’t expected the biggest keyboard store in the state to be silent, but her nerves were not quite prepared for the children playing chopsticks in one corner while high school students tested out recital pieces in another and professors from CU talked to the rental coordinator at the top of their voices.

Emma had checked in with the sales rep and was now free to wander. She floated through the store on Brooke’s excited monologue, listening hard, trying not to let the rest of the noise get to her. She removed the tape measure from her purse and sized up a petite grand, comparing it to the entryway in Kendrick’s house. Different brands were longer or shorter by several inches, and she’d have to take careful measurements to be sure. Size was only the first consideration. Sound was more important. She lightly touched the keyboard.

“You can play it,” Brooke said. “They let you do that here.”

Emma snatched her hands back as if she’d been burned. “No, I… I’m not the one who has to like it. The client wants me to find a few that fit through his front door. Once I do, he’ll make the final selection based on how it sounds.”

“We should have brought Gwendolyn.” Brooke touched middle C and then an octave up. “Doesn’t she play?”

“Can you hold this?” Emma handed Brooke one end of the tape measure. If she kept her friend’s hands busy, maybe Brooke wouldn’t be tempted to play every piano in the store.

Emma stretched the tape measure across another piano. Two inches too big. Yamahas were smaller, but the only ones in the store were former school models that were scratched and warped. She moved deeper into the space and found a Baldwin that looked promising.

“There has to be a more efficient way to shop for a piano,” Brooke said.

“Well, it’s efficient for him, isn’t it? He’s paying me to do the legwork.”

“So he’s rich?” Brooke asked.

“Well-off, at least,” Emma said. “You remember I told you about that couple on Cricket Lane? The Zelinskis? This is the house across the street. The caretaker saw my truck and contacted me.”

“Nice,” Brooke said. “I know you don’t like your phone number plastered on the side of your truck, but it came in handy.”

“It did,” Emma admitted. “This is another whole-house job, only this is a complete clear-out and refurnishing. I’ve already lined up a broker to do the estate sale and I’ve got cleaners coming the day after that. Then the fun starts. It’s a beautiful house, with loads of character. Tall ceilings on the first floor, woodwork to die for, and the kitchen has all new appliances. I’m going to add storage, get some more modern furniture, and make it move-in ready. He needs it done fast, so it’s going to have to be IKEA. Want to go with me?”

“Sure, but can we back up a second?” Brooke blew out an impatient breath. “Can we examine the part where you’re shopping for a piano for a client? I’ve never seen you do that before.”

“Because I’ve never done it before.” Emma retracted the tape. What was the big deal? Her business was only a year old. She was doing new things all the time. And the Baldwin in front of her would fit through Kendrick’s door. She made some notes on a fresh page of her legal pad, then brushed the keys lightly, hoping it sounded as good as it looked.

“You hate places like this.” Brooke turned in a slow circle, taking in the noise and the chaos. “Why would you subject yourself to this?”