Gladly.
I ring up his purchases, stick labels on the various boxes, and hand them over to him. He puts them in his cart and waves before walking away.
I decide to walk down to Art’s shop to tell him about the new gig after work, but the store is closed. Cupping my hands to the glass, I peer inside in case he’s still around, but the shop is empty. A gasp leaves my lips when I notice that’s not all that’s empty. The grand piano is gone, and my heart sinks. Which isridiculous. Of course, he was going to sell it at some point. There is no shortage of wealthy clientele in Rydeville, and Steinways are always in demand because they don’t mass produce them.
I guess it’s definitely a good thing I got a trial run at the restaurant. It’s going to be my only chance to play now.
“You’re home!” Uma squeals as I step foot in our place, throwing herself at me with excitement written all over her face.
“Eh, yeah.” I dump my bag on the counter and kick off my shoes.
“I’m so glad you did it. It was definitely the right decision, and don’t feel guilty because there’s no point leaving all that money sitting in the bank.”
“Have you been smoking shit with Jude?”
“No.” She pins me with a goofy grin.
I look around for Jude. “Where is…” My mouth trails the ground, and my words die on my tongue when I spot the grand piano sitting in the corner of our living room. Blood pounds in my ears, and stars blink behind my eyes. “What the…” I whisper, rubbing at my eyes, almost sure I must be seeing things.
“Told ya that was the perfect spot for it.” Uma gives me a gentle shove. “Go christen it.”
“Uma, wait.” I stop in the middle of the living room peering at the piano like it’s a mirage. “How is this here?”
“What do you mean?” Her brow puckers.
“I mean I didn’t buy this.”
“But you did.” Confusion is etched all over her face. “The delivery guy gave me the receipt, and it had your name on it, and oh.” Realization dawns. “This is just like the groceries.”
“No, it’s freaking not!” My voice elevates a few notches. “The groceries cost a few hundred bucks. This is over one hundred thousand dollars!” I shriek. “What the actual fuck is going on?”
Uma collapses on the couch. “You have a fairy godmother.”
“Fairy godmothers don’t exist in the real world.” I flop down beside her as we both stare at it.
Her head whips to mine. “What if it’s your parents? What if they are doing this? Maybe they feel guilty they left you with nothing and this is their way of making it up to you?”
“So what? They develop a conscience after a year?” Disbelief threads through my tone. “I’m thinking the benevolent stalker theory is more plausible.”
Silence descends as we continue looking at the grand piano in the corner. My mind is churning all kinds of theories, and I just can’t make sense of them. “I’ll talk to Art before work tomorrow and ask him who bought it. He’ll tell me who my mystery gift giver is.”
“You might as well play it until then.” Uma drags me up from the couch. “No sense in wasting the opportunity.”
“Well, that’s fucking great,” I mumble to myself the following morning, my face dropping as I read the sign on the music store window.
ON VACATION. BACK IN TWO WEEKS.
So much for getting answers. The longer I have the grand piano, the more I will covet it and not want to give it back. But I cannotaccept such an extravagant gift. Even if my parents are behind it, I don’t want it because they bought it with blood money. So, I’m trying to resign myself to the fact it’s only temporary and not get too attached.
I snort out a laugh as I walk back up the road toward Foley’s. Who am I kidding? I’m already attached, and it hasn’t even been twenty-four hours.
“Hey, Emery,” Stan says, greeting me when I walk into the store. “Martha is feeling a little under the weather today, so she didn’t come in. Would you mind working in the back today and doing the stock take?”
“Sorry to hear she is feeling poorly, and of course. Whatever you need.”
I don’t mind working by myself in the large storeroom, entering products and quantities as I move through the aisles. I have my earbuds in, and I’m listening to music, so I don’t hear the approaching footsteps until Joaquin is right on top of me. My scream bounces off the high walls as he touches my arm, and I almost jump out of my skin. Ripping the buds from my ears, I slap a hand over my thumping heart and glare at him. “Are you trying to give me a coronary? Jesus, Joaquin. You can’t sneak up on people like that.”
His lips twitch as he fights a smile. “Sorry,” he says, not sounding in the least bit apologetic. “I called out but didn’t realize you had earbuds in.”
