Page 28 of So This Is Love

“Yeah I guess I did. Is that weird?”

“I wouldn’t say weird,” I reply. “But it is a first for me.”

“I made this appointment a few weeks ago, before I knew we would go to brunch. I had to leave my old piano back in LA so I came to pick out a new one for my place here.”

The blonde woman comes back with two flutes of champagne in her hands, the bubbles still floating to the top of the light gold liquid. She hands each of us a flute before she speaks.

“Please take your time looking around, Mr. Taylor. We do have the one that you inquired about in our special collections room off to your right. Please let me know if you need anything or have any questions.”

“Thank you,” Bryce says.

“I didn’t know you played piano.”

Bryce moves on to another piano. To me it looks the same as a handful of other pianos in the room but I’m sure there are specs and details that I, someone who has never even touched a grand piano, has no knowledge of.

“Growing up my parents had one of our neighbors that they were close with, watch me until they got off of work when I was too young to stay home alone. She had this really old upright piano and she taught me how to play and how to read music.”

“Aw that’s sweet. That was really nice of her,” I say.

Bryce shakes his head. “I’m not sure anyone would say Mrs. Roberts was sweet. She was kind of a grumpy old lady. Like the kind who yelled at you for being on her grass.”

I snort, the imagery of a young Bryce being scolded by a little old lady sitting on her porch coming to mind.

“I’m sure there was a couch in her house you weren’t allowed to sit on too.”

“For sure,” he replies. “It was floral and covered in plastic and she didn’t let anyone sit on it.”

We walk through the pianos, sipping our champagne. I stop and run my fingers over the keys of a dark brown piano that’s smaller than the other ones in the room.

“What do you think?” Bryce asks.

I shrug my shoulders. “I mean they’re clearly really nice, but they all just look like pianos to me.”

Bryce nods in understanding. “Some people probably have a really complex way to tell them apart, but for me it’s kind of like anything that you have a preference on. Sometimes you have a really strong preference for something and sometimes it's just one of many that a bunch of different companies have made.”

“That makes sense, but how do you pick one then?”

“Trial and error. Just sitting and playing with them until there’s one that just feels right.”

“So which one is the one that feels right for you,” I ask.

Bryce gestures towards the room that the woman referred to earlier. “Let me show you.”

The pianos in this room are clearly more custom. While the pianos in the main room were all black or brown there are pianos in here with more unique coloring, white, red and green and even some with a contrasting color on the inside of the lid. One piano in particular is separated away from the others on a platform.

Bryce leads us to that piano, it’s black with gold accents but instead of being shiny it has a satin finish. Bryce pulls out the piano bench and gestures for me to sit down. I sit and hold my flute in both of my hands, being careful not to spill any champagne on the instrument that I know for sure costs more than my annual salary. Bryce sets his empty champagne flute down on the floor next to the piano leg and sits next to me on the bench. The side of his arm brushes against mine as hepositions his fingers on the keys. He closes his eyes and takes in a deep breath, exhaling slowly, and then he begins to play. I don’t immediately recognize the song, it’s familiar but the name escapes me until he plays a few more notes, getting further into the verse.

Ain’t No Sunshineby Bill Withers.

I watch Bryce’s hands as he deftly slides across the keys, playing the notes of the song. His movements are fluid and certain and though he isn’t singing I can feel the emotion of the song just from the notes he plays. I am so engrossed in watching him play that I don’t realize the song is over until the sound of the last note lingering stops, leaving the room in silence.

“Wow that was beautiful,” I say..

“Thank you,” Bryce says. “That was one of Mrs. Roberts’ favorite songs so it was one of the first ones I memorized.”

I smile softly at Bryce, those damn flutters in my belly making an appearance once again.

“Why didn’t you bring your piano from LA?” I ask, trying to get out of my own head about the feelings I definitely didn’t want to be having.

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