Love at First Note (23 page)

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. Some
thing’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. Christmas 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, noth
ing 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.”

“But you’re young, Emma. Opportunities like this won’t come along every day. I think your mother would really love for you to go.”

“It’s just not that important to me, Gram.”

“Truly? You aren’t interested in going at all?”

It was a difficult question to answer. Had I not left Cleveland at all and the tour was just another responsibility in a symphony I was already a part of, I would have done it. Things about it would have made me uncomfortable, but yeah, I would have gone. But I’d spent a lot of time thinking about what Elliott had said and what Grayson had said and even more time reflecting on what was nestled in my own heart. Europe wasn’t enough of my dream to give up what I had in Asheville. I shook my head. “It’s not my dream.”

“What if I said you aren’t needed here?”

I slumped back into the sofa and folded my arms across a throw pillow in my lap. “I’d say you’re crazy. The last three months prove how much I’m needed. I’ve been over two, three, sometimes four times a week helping out.”

“I know you have been. I know your mother needs the help. That’s why I’m moving in. I’m leaving Ohio. It’s time I be with your mother full-time.”

“What? Gram, you can’t leave Ohio just because you want me to tour Europe. It isn’t that important.”

“Emma Grace,” she scolded, “don’t be so self-centered as
to think these decisions only have to do with you. Karen is my daughter. I want to be here.”

“But I’ve been trying to take care of her. I even offered to move back in, but Dad wouldn’t let me.”

“Do you know how proud your mother is of you?”

I nodded.

“Do you know how happy it makes her to hear you play?”

I nodded again. “I do, but I’m not going to pretend my playing
is more important than Mom’s health. It’s not. Nothing is.”

“Bug, if you don’t want to go to Europe, that is absolutely your prerogative. But you owe your mother a conversation. I know you’re trying to spare her the guilt you think she’ll feel if you discuss the career choices you
aren’t
making, but your distance is only hurting her more. The two of you are long overdue for a conversation where you can bare your heart about what you really want and give her the chance to do the same.”

The reality of Gram’s words settled on my shoulders hot and a little heavy. She was right. I was trying to protect Mom. Whether I wanted to go on tour or not, Mom deserved to know my true feelings on the subject. “Are you really moving?”

She nodded. “Just after the first of the year. There’s nothing
left for me in Ohio, not with your grandfather gone, your uncle moved to California, and you down here. It doesn’t feel like home anymore, not when all my family is so far away.”

“And Mom needs you.” I couldn’t hide the hurt in my voice. I’d made a lot of sacrifices to be around for Mom
, and while I wasn’t necessarily hurt by the idea of Gram’s moving in, I was a little
disappointed that I’d failed.

“You’ve done beautifully the past few months, Bug. But she does need me. She needs someone who can be here full-time. And that’s too much to ask of you right now when your wings are just beginning to stretch.”

I pulled my feet up under me and leaned into Gram, resting my head on her shoulder. “Do you think I should go to Europe?”

“It might kill some time till that man of yours gets his emotions in order.”

Before I could answer, my phone ding
ed in my pocket, and I
pulled it out. There was a text from Lilly.
Turn on the TV NOW. Chan
nel 13. They’re going to talk about Elliott after the commercial. Hurry!

I dropped the phone and scrambled across the living room to the television. “Where’s the remote?” I said to myself. “Where’s the stupid remote?”

“Calm down. It’s right here,” Gram said. She held it up.

I lunged back across the room and scrolled through the channels until I found the right one.

“Fans of the
Talent Hunt
sensation Elliott Hart are going to have to wait a little longer for his highly anticipated third album. We’ve just gotten word from B
lue Bridge Records they’ve parted ways with the pianist, citing creative differences and a lack of shared
vision for future projects. No word on whether any new record deals are in the works for Elliott. But for anyone listening, here at Inside Hollywood,
we sure do hope so. Elliott’s team has declined to comment on the split.”

I sank back onto the sofa. “Poor Elliott,” I said more to myself than to Gram.

“He’s lost his record deal? Did I hear that right?”

I nodded. “I can’t believe it. He must be devastated.”

“Maybe you should call him? See if he’s okay?”

It was a terrifying thought, but she was right. I did need to call him. I stood. “I’ll be right back.”

Grabbing my phone off the corner of the couch, I raced down the hall to my old bedroom, shutting the door behind me. I sank onto the bed and pulled out my phone, my hands already shaking.

Maybe because it was all I’d gotten the last time I’d called, I
expected his voice mail. But he picked up on the second ring. When
he did, I barely managed to choke out a response. “Hi,” I finally stammered. “I . . . sorry. I wasn’t sure you’d pick up.”

“You caught me at a good time. How are you?”