Love at First Note

by Jenny Proctor

  But I didn’t have to play.

  Elliott was right. Grayson was right. Mom was right. Everyone had me figured out. Everyone but me.

  Except, not anymore.

  Chapter 23

  I found Lilly in the kitchen, still wearing her scrubs, her hair pulled back in a loose ponytail. “Hey. Are you just getting in? How long did they make you work?” I asked.

  She nodded. “Twenty-five hours straight. It was crazy. I’ve never seen so many babies on the floor at one time.”

  “Is it even legal to make you work that long?”

  “Not technically. I slept in the on-call room for a couple hours. But I couldn’t leave. Seventeen deliveries in twenty-four hours. We set a new record.” She collapsed onto the couch, grabbing the blanket hanging over the arm and spreading it over herself. “How are you? Any new Elliott sightings?”

  I hesitated. “I don’t know. I haven’t checked today.”

  “For real? That’s progress, I guess.”

  “Yeah.” I dropped onto the desk chair and pulled my legs up, wrapping my arms around them and burying my face in my knees.

  “You know what’s different between you and all those women who look for pictures of Elliott on the Internet?”

  “What?” I asked, my voice muffled.

  “You actually have Elliott’s phone number and can call him and talk to him anytime you want.”

  “I can’t call him.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I have no idea what I would say. Plus, I hurt him. I don’t know how to fix things.”

  “Hi, Elliott. This is Emma. I know I hurt you. I’m sorry. You’re worth everything. I love you. Please come home.” Lilly fired her words at me in rapid succession, though in her tired state, they hardly sounded convincing. She yawned. “See? Easy.”

  “Not easy. Maybe you can call him for me.”

  “Yeah. Not happening. So have you decided that’s what you want? You want to call and work things out?”

  I moved to the couch and sat beside her. “Someone stopped me in the grocery store tonight and asked if she could take my picture. Said she recognized me from the photos online.”

  Lilly pushed herself up. “That’s it? She just asked for a photo?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You know what? Big hairy deal!” She turned sideways so we were facing each other. “I’m gonna speak the hard truth to you here. I think you’re maybe being a little selfish. So what if people want to take your picture. You can say no. You can choose to be a private person even if your boyfriend has a public career. You don’t have to play the game. I mean, yeah, sometimes stuff will happen and you’ll have to ignore it, but that’s just it. You can ignore it. If you like this guy, I mean really, truly like him, and you think he’s a good fit for you, you can’t be so selfish that you cut him out just because you don’t want some girl in the grocery store to take your picture.”

  “Um, I guess there’s no question about where you stand on the issue. Are you finished?” I asked after waiting patiently for her tirade to end.

  “Yes,” she huffed.

  “Good. ’Cause I think you’re right.”

  “I am right. Wait. I’m right?”

  I nodded. “So she asked for my picture. I declined and kept walking, and she went away, and it didn’t matter. I was in control, not her.”

  “Good girl,” Lilly said.

  “And maybe there will be some stuff I have to get used to, things about our life together that will be different, but different isn’t a bad thing. Different can be a good thing, right?”

  “Yes, yes, right! So if you realize this, why are we still sad? Why aren’t we calling Elliott and telling him how stupid we’ve been?”

  My shoulders fell. “Because I don’t just like this man, Lilly.” Mom would be so proud I was willing to say it out loud. “I really love him, and I’m afraid I’ve ruined everything. I’m scared.”

  “Oh, honey. Don’t let fear win.”

  “What if he went back to L.A. just to get away from me?”

  “His suitcase was already packed when you insulted him. Try again.”

  “What if he got to L.A. and realized he was wrong about me and he really loves his record label and wants to live in L.A. covering boy-band music forever?”

  “Then he’s not the man you thought he was, and it’s a moot point.”

  “What if he’s fallen for someone else?”

  “In two weeks? You think?”

  “What if he’s decided I’m not worth it?”

  “But you are. And he’s told you that enough times you have to believe it.”

  “What if he can’t forgive me?”

  “What if you never ask him to and you live a lonely, miserable, Elliott-less life and die a spinster? You want to keep playing this game?”

  “But he’s in L.A., and I’m here. What if we can’t make that work?”

  “People make long-distance relationships work all the time. Why are you making things so complicated?”

  “Because it is complicated. This is my future we’re talking about. I don’t want to screw it up.”

  “Oh my word! I swear you Mormons make everything so serious. Why are we talking about your future? Why can’t we just talk about here, now, what you’re feeling this minute? You don’t have to be able to see the future clearly. You don’t have to see this perfect rose-colored path to your wedding day. You can just let stuff happen and see where you end up. You’re overthinking, Emma. You just said you love him. Why are you being so stupid about all of this?”

  “Me? I’m being stupid? You want me to just let stuff happen, but I’m not like you. There’s a reason we Mormons make everything so serious. It’s because relationships are serious. We can’t just try one on for size to see how it fits. You may take it to the bedroom on the first date just to see how it’ll go or be fine waiting around for your juvenile boyfriend to decide if he’s going to grow up, but I’m not like that. It’s not what I want.”

  “Did you seriously just say take it to the bedroom? Is it 1937 inside your brain?” She stood and flung a throw pillow back at the couch, missing my head by mere inches. “At this rate, you’re not going to make it to the bedroom ever, happily Mormon-y married or not, if you’re not willing to risk a little bit. And I didn’t even kiss Trav on our first date. You’re tired, and you’re stressed, and I know you’ve had a bad couple of weeks, so I’m gonna forget you just insulted me and my boyfriend. But I’m not going to apologize for calling you selfish. Because that’s what you are right now. Maybe Elliott deserves something better.” She stomped down the hall and slammed the bathroom door with a thud that echoed through the apartment.

  I didn’t want to admit she was right, but the second the words were out of her mouth, I knew she was. I wasn’t trying to be selfish, but I was scared. I knew what I wanted. I wanted Elliott. But I had no idea how to get him back, and fear was winning big time. Every single thing I’d said was colored by that one emotion. I pounded after her. “Fine. You’re right. What am I supposed to do differently?”

  “Pick up the phone, genius,” she shouted through the door. “And stop being such a whiny . . .” The water turned on, and the shower rings slid across the rod, so I couldn’t hear what she called me. But I had a pretty good idea. I leaned against the wall across from the bathroom and slid to the floor. I was a mess. A stupid mess saying stupid things that I didn’t really mean. I stayed in the hallway until Lilly emerged from the bathroom wrapped in a towel, her dirty scrubs tucked under her arm.

  I followed her to her room and stood in the doorway, blocking her from shutting the door.

  “You know I’ll drop this towel and get dressed in front of you if you don’t let me close my door.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said.

  She turned, tossing her laundry into the hamper by the wall. “For what?”

  “I’m sorry I accused you of having loose morals, and I’m sorry I called your boyfriend juvenile. I was a je
rk, and I didn’t really mean it, and I really love you both, so I hope you’ll forgive me because I can’t stand life without you, and I don’t want you to be mad at me.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Oh, whatever. I might have loose morals if I didn’t have a Mormon best friend to keep me in line. And Trav totally is juvenile. But he’s juvenile with potential, so I’m not giving up hope yet.”

  “Thank you for being my friend,” I said. “And for not staying mad.”

  “Blah, blah. Go call Elliott.”

  I smiled. Lilly and I had had our share of fights. We couldn’t be friends from fourth grade on and not get into it every once in a while. But we’d never stayed mad at each other longer than five minutes, a reality I was grateful for every time Lilly forgave me so readily.

  It took twenty minutes of pacing up and down the hallway to muster enough courage to just call already. Lilly was dressed and standing across from me when I finally dialed the number, my hands shaking the entire stupid time. I listened to the ring—two, three, then four—then breathed out a sigh of relief when his voice mail picked up. The sound of his voice made my heart swell. Oh, I missed him. I dropped the phone from my ear like I was going to hang it up, then caught Lilly’s eye.

  She shook her head angrily, motioning the phone back to my face. “Leave him a message!” she whisper-yelled just as I heard the beep.

  “Hi. Um, hi. So I know it’s been . . . I don’t really know what to say. I just was hoping we could talk. Sorry. This is lame. Gah—me and words. I’m so not good at this. Okay. I just wanted to say . . . I miss you. And, well, the thing is, I can’t figure out . . . I just know there are some things that I should say. That I want to say. But how?”

  Lilly slowly reached for the phone. “You’re all done. Just say good-bye,” she whispered.

  “Okay. So yeah. Call me back. Bye.” I looked at Lilly. “How was that?”

  She grimaced. “It’s possible I pushed you into that a little too quickly.”

  I groaned. “Was it awful? It was really awful, wasn’t it?”

  “What if you just play something for him?”

  I scoffed. “Why do people keep suggesting that? I can’t play an apology. Uggh. I’m hopeless.”

  “You’re not hopeless. And if this guy loves you, that message will mean something to him anyway. It’s not like he hasn’t witnessed your unique mastery of the English language before.”

  Ha. Ha. Ha.

  “Thanks, Lil. Thanks for that.”

  She put on her serious face, placing both of her hands on my shoulders. “Listen to me. You’re strong enough for this. You’re strong enough to say the right thing. You’re strong enough to tell this man you love him. And you’re strong enough to deal with what life with Elliott will bring. It’s time to put on your big-girl pants and just do it already.”

  Chapter 24

  Elliott called three days later. I was teaching, so my phone was turned off, but he left a message.

  “Hi. Thanks for calling. I’m sorry I missed you. Things are just crazy right now. My schedule is insane . . . but yeah. I’ll call you again soon. Listen, can you find out how Oscar’s doing? I miss that kid. I guess that’s all for now. Take care, Emma. Bye.”

  After listening to his message, I felt like my insides had been hollowed out. I’d been hopeful, waiting for him to return my call, but everything about his message, from the tone of his voice to his bringing up Oscar, screamed that things would never be the same.

  He didn’t call again. When I texted him a video of Oscar playing a piece he’d been working on, Elliott responded with one word: Thanks.

  By the end of November, my mood matched the muddy brown of the leaves collecting in the gutters of Maple Crescent. I mean, I was fine. I was teaching and smiling and playing and going out with Lilly on Friday nights and eating dinner with my family every Sunday. Life was good. But I wasn’t happy. I felt like a symphony without a violin—utterly incomplete.

  * * *

  A couple of weeks before Christmas, I spent a week getting ready for a conversation with my sister that I’d put off for way too long by practicing the second part of a slightly frenzied, mostly chaotic, but totally hip rendition of Imagine Dragons’ “Radioactive”—for two violins.

  I pulled out the sheet music after dinner one Sunday afternoon and handed it to her across the table. “Want to give it a try?” I asked her.

  She gave me an odd look. “You want to play this with me?”

  I shrugged. “It might be fun.”

  It was fun. More fun than I’d had in weeks. We played until our fingers hurt, then we collapsed on the couch, gratefully accepting the warm mugs of hot chocolate Dad brought us from the kitchen. I looked at Ava across the top of my mug.

  “You know I’m going to love you no matter what, right?”

  She looked down. “I know.”

  “I mean, you can go to the University of Montana and study cattle ranching for all I care. I just want you to be happy.”

  She took a sip of hot chocolate, then set her mug on the coffee table in front of us. “I was so afraid you’d be disappointed. I didn’t know how to tell you. And it isn’t that I don’t like to play. It’s just not what I want to do full-time.”

  “Which is so totally fine. I shouldn’t have been so hard on you. It was our thing, you know? What we did together. I think I was afraid that if you quit, we wouldn’t have anything to keep us together. But you don’t need to go to CIM to be my sister. I’m trying to do better at remembering that.”

  “Emma. You just played an Imagine Dragons song on your violin. You’re doing way better.”

  * * *

  The Wednesday before Christmas, I packed an overnight bag to head to my parents’ place. I wasn’t sure at first that I’d stay overnight, but my grandma was in town, and I wanted as much time with her as possible.

  Lilly knocked on my bedroom door. “Hey. You heading out?”

  “Yeah. I’m almost finished. Is Trav here?”

  “He will be in ten. I hope you have a good holiday.”

  I opened the door, and she followed me down the hall. “Thanks,” I said. “You too. Call me after Trav proposes.”

  She smiled. I’d been placing bets for weeks on the day Trav would finally drop the question. My money was on Christmas Eve night. “He’s so not going to propose,” she said.

  “Then why are your eyes all sparkly and excited? Do you know something for real?”

  She shook her head. “No, but . . . he’s definitely different. Something’s coming. I can tell that much.”

  I gave her a hug. “I hope you say yes.”

  “Yeah, yeah. Still no word from Elliott?”

  I shook my head.

  “Stupid man. He said he’d call again. Why hasn’t he?”

  “I’m sure he’s got a lot going on.”

  “That’s not an excuse. If he’s in love with you, he’d find time to call.”

  My eyebrows pulled together, and I frowned.

  “Oh, no. That’s not what I meant,” she said quickly, trying to backpedal. “I’m sure there could be reasons why he hasn’t called. I just meant that . . . When you said he had stuff going on, he can’t use that as an excuse. There’s gotta be something else that’s making him keep his distance.”

  Yeah, there was something else. Me. “It’s okay. You might be right. And maybe it’s time for me to realize that. It might be time for me to move on.”

  “You’re gonna be fine. You’ll bounce back.”

  Maybe, but I really didn’t feel like bouncing.

  * * *

  “Hello? Is anyone home?” I stood in my parents’ noticeably empty kitchen. At least the food for tomorrow’s Christmas Eve dinner was there. Sweet potatoes lined the counter, and all the ingredients for a broccoli salad looked prepped and ready to assemble. Two pumpkin pies sat on the kitchen table, along with Dad’s famous skillet apple pie. If all that wasn’t convincing enough, I’d passed the turkey brining on the front porch. Chr
istmas was absolutely, for real happening. So where the heck was everybody?

  “Emma? Is that you?”

  “Grandma?”

  “I’m in here.”

  I followed her voice to the living room. “Where is everybody?”

  “Your father’s at a church service thing. And Ava drove your mom to the grocery store. Something about needing cream cheese.” She stood and gave me a hug. “It’s good to see you. You look good.”

  “Thanks. You too. How’s Ohio?”

  “A little dimmer without your presence, but we’re getting by. Have you heard from Elliott?”

  “Not a word.” I shrugged. “I think it’s really over.”

  “Of course it isn’t over. This is just an issue of timing, nothing more. Sometimes it takes awhile to get it right.” She patted my cheek. “Want to sit with me? I’m actually glad to get you alone for a moment.”

  “Sure. What’s up?” We sat together on the couch.

  “I had a long conversation with your mother last night.”

  “Yeah? She seems like she’s been doing a little better lately.”

  “That’s true, but we weren’t talking about her health.” Gram reached over and patted my hand. “We were talking about you.”

  “What? Why me?”

  “You don’t give her enough credit. I know you told her about that silly kiss with your conductor and convinced her it was the reason you moved, but she’s not buying it anymore. She knows you’re here for her, and she hates it. That you’re turning down an offer to tour Europe is the worst kind of thorn in her side.”

  I breathed out a heavy sigh. “Dad said something similar before I even knew about the tour. I don’t want her to feel unhappy about it though. I really am happy here. And I like being around to help.”

  “I believe you do. But I also think your heart is longing for something different.” What my heart was longing for was Elliott. And I wasn’t going to find him in Europe. “I don’t need to go to Europe,” I said. “I know I’d love the music on a tour like that, but I’m not so sure I’d love all the attention.” It was the first time I’d admitted as much out loud, and it felt strangely liberating. “I don’t like being a spectacle, and that’s what I would be if I agreed to go. It may look like I’m sacrificing so I can stick around and help Mom, but truly, I’m happy here. Some sacrifices are worth it.”