Page 75 of The Sound of Harmony

“Thank you for not listening to me when I said to clear out everything,” Kendrick said. His eyes glistened. “I love it.”

“I’m glad,” Emma said. “It’s far enough from the piano that it won’t disturb you when you’re trying to compose.”

“You thought of everything.” Kendrick did a slow turn, taking in the room. “It’s beautiful. It’s more than I hoped for. Let me finish the lawn and take you out to dinner to celebrate the end of a job well done.”

“So now that I’m not working for you anymore…”

“Yes?”

“I don’t have anything on my schedule for tomorrow.” She draped her arms loosely around his neck. “I thought I’d give you a ride to your doctor’s appointment. It’s nice when timing works out.”

“Ah, I don’t…” Kendrick kissed her knuckles. “You don’t have to do that. I’ll get a Lyft.”

Emma dropped her arms. “All the way to Columbus?”

“The appointments take forever,” Kendrick said. “You’ve got better things to do.”

“I can’t think of any.” Maybe it was too soon, but she hoped that he’d feel more open to talking about his medical condition if she showed him some support.

“You’d hate it,” he said. “The drive is boring and the waiting room is ugly.”

“Oh dear, how terrible.” Emma pressed the back of her hand to her forehead. “Anything but that.”

“I’d give you details, but you wouldn’t want to hear them.”

“Try me.”

“For starters, the wallpaper is mustard yellow and the art on the wall looks like it’s from 1983. The chairs are shaped like clamshells.”

“Sounds lovely.” Who cared about the waiting room? She wanted details about his ear.

“The coffee tables are glass with brick bases, and all the magazines are out of date. Last time, I spotted an issue of Newsweek telling you how to prepare for Y2K.”

“Nobody keeps twenty-year-old magazines.”

“Hand to God. The arts section was about a cool new movie called The Matrix.”

“Hand to God is a serious thing,” Emma said. “That’s right up there with ‘pinky swear.’”

“I’m going to swipe it tomorrow. I’ll bring it back for you. Pinky swear.” Kendrick held out his hand and hooked his pinky with hers. He turned it into a thumb wrestle, which turned into tickling and then to kissing.

They were laughing now, but Emma noted how smoothly he’d changed the subject. By promising to bring her an antique magazine he’d closed off the possibility of her going to Columbus and seeing the inside of the Ohio State Medical Clinic for herself.

Staging houses for Mitch turned out to be among the easiest, least-stressful jobs Emma had ever had. The clients were eager to implement every suggestion, with no pushback, because they knew that they wouldn’t have to live with the choices for very long. Everything they were doing, from swapping out their artwork to clearing out half their tchotchkes, was only to sell the house. After that, they’d box it up and start over elsewhere, so what did it matter?

No one balked at her higher hourly rate. It was worth it to the sellers, who’d sell their houses faster, for more money. The buyers wouldn’t necessarily get a bargain, but Emma wasn’t deceiving anyone. She was simply unlocking the potential that had been in these houses all along, helping the buyers see what was possible.

By the end of the second week, she was recalculating her projected income for the quarter. At this rate, she’d easily be in the black by January, and would gleefully tell Gwendolyn that she would not be going back to school for her degree after all.

Emma had to reschedule a few of her organizing jobs in order to squeeze in staging clients. It gave her a small pang of guilt, but house staging was time-sensitive, while cleaning up a family’s closets could wait. She knew her clients would understand.

In late September, she finished her biggest job yet, staging a McMansion on the south side of town. She was exhausted from moving things all day. She’d converted multi-use rooms into single-use, changed a grown child’s bedroom into a home office, and moved furniture up and down stairs. She was looking forward to a hot shower and a date with Kendrick.

She hadn’t seen much of him lately. His career was bounding in a new direction just as hers was. He’d been commissioned to write a piece for the Columbus Philharmonic Orchestra, which was debuting it at their concert the last Saturday in October.

The whole thing had come about the way professional advancement always came about—because of networking. Kendrick had met the conductor of the CPO at the Midwest Strings and Band Symposium. Kendrick claimed they’d gotten off on the wrong foot, but good or bad, he’d made a lasting impression. The conductor got funding from a donor for an original composition, and he’d given Kendrick the commission.

Kendrick had danced Emma around the house and called his parents and wanted to celebrate even though he didn’t know anyone in town. So he’d called up Mitch and Emma had invited Brooke, Theo, and Gwendolyn. They went to a bar that had live music, where Kendrick bought drinks for everyone. Gwendolyn never showed.