Love at First Note

by Jenny Proctor

  “Daddy?”

  He smiled and opened his arms. “Are you surprised?”

  I wrapped my arms around him, overwhelmed by the sheer shock of seeing my father in the very last place I ever would have expected him to be. “What are . . . ? How on earth? When did you . . . ?” I couldn’t figure out which question to finish first.

  Dad laughed. “No questions. Not yet anyway. I’m just here to give you this.” He handed me a single sheet of paper.

  I looked it over. It was sheet music for piano, if I had to guess, but it wasn’t labeled, and the melody wasn’t something I recognized. “What is this?”

  Dad put his hands on my shoulders and pointed me toward the hotel. “Keep walking, and I think you’ll find your answer.”

  I gave him a puzzled look, but he only grinned, urging me forward with a tilt of his head.

  “Are you coming too?” I asked.

  “I promise I won’t be far behind,” he said. “Now, go on. You’ve got somewhere to be.”

  I hurried to the hotel, my heart pounding in my chest, and wondered what kind of goose chase Dad was sending me on. I had just made it through the front door when a familiar voice stopped me in my tracks.

  “What? You aren’t even going to say hello?”

  I turned around. “Trav? Are you kidding me?”

  He laughed and pulled me into a hug. “It’s good to see you, Em.”

  I reached up and gave his cheek a friendly pat. “You shaved!”

  “You like it? I’m still getting used to it, but Lilly’s a fan.”

  Hope surged through my chest at the thought of seeing Lilly. “Is Lilly here?”

  “I’m not at liberty to say. I’ve only been instructed to give you this.” He handed me another sheet of music.

  “For real, Trav. Somebody better tell me what’s going on.”

  He waved his hand. “Keep going. You’ll know soon enough.”

  I hurried through the lobby, looking left, then right, then left again, half expecting someone to jump out from behind one of the giant marble columns to surprise me. Finally I saw Ava sitting on a small cushioned bench in between the elevators. When she saw me approach, she stood and ran into my embrace.

  “What is everyone doing here?” I asked her, my eyes wide.

  “That’s all the hello I get? It’s nice to see you too.”

  I gripped her shoulders, then gave her another hug, happy to ignore her sarcasm. “Looks like you’re getting to see Paris after all.”

  “You know it. And tomorrow you’re going to get me some of those cookies. For now, this is for you.”

  More music. Of course.

  I shook my head. “I’m not even going to question anymore. Where to next?”

  The elevator dinged behind us. “Pretty sure you’re supposed to get on this elevator,” Ava said.

  When the doors slid open, Lilly jumped out. “Surprise!” She pulled me onto the elevator, her eyes all bright and happy, and gave me a big hug. “How are you? Are you surprised? Are you happy?”

  “I’m . . . I have no idea what I am. I’m a little confused, but yes, it’s amazing to see everybody. Where are you taking me?”

  She handed me a room key.

  “What, no music?”

  “Oh! Right.” She pulled it out of her pocket. “I almost forgot.”

  I added it to the stack. Immediately I noticed something I hadn’t seen on any of the other sheets. It was only one word, a dynamic scribbled in haste across the bottom of the page. Pianissimo. But it was enough for me to recognize the careful, measured script of Elliott’s handwriting. I’d known Elliott had to be involved. I was holding a stack of piano music, after all, but seeing confirmation of what, until then, I’d only hoped to be true was enough to stop my breath, trapping the air in my lungs a beat too long.

  “Emma,” Lilly said. “Yo. You hear me? Breathe.”

  I took a breath, then grabbed Lilly’s hand. “Where is he, Lil? Please just tell me where he is.”

  The elevator chimed and opened. Lilly nudged me off without answering my question but stayed behind herself. “Room 714,” she called as the doors slid closed.

  My hands trembled as I moved down the hallway and found room 714, making it extra difficult to slip the keycard into the reader affixed above the door handle. It took three tries before the little indicator light flashed green and the door finally clicked open.

  “Surprise!” Mom and Gram moved forward simultaneously, pulling me into the room and wrapping their arms around me from both sides.

  “We promise there are no more family members lurking in closets,” Gram said.

  I laughed. “That’s a relief. I’m not sure my heart can take any more.”

  Mom lowered herself into her wheelchair, positioned by the bed, and reached for my hand. “There is one more surprise, but I’m pretty sure this one is going to be your favorite.” She handed me a small piece of cardstock bearing the name of the hotel’s glitzy restaurant, the day’s date, and a time: 9:00 p.m.

  I closed my eyes and pressed the card against my chest. There was only one person left; it had to be Elliott.

  “You better hurry and change,” Gram said. “You’ve only got ten minutes.”

  “Change? This isn’t even my hotel room.”

  “It’s all taken care of,” Mom said. “Everything you need is in the bathroom.”

  A dress hung on the back of the bathroom door, and my makeup bag, apparently retrieved from my own hotel room, sat on the counter. My hands trembled as I pulled on the dress. It was simple and black (Ha! Black!), knee length, with a deep v-neck and shimmery sleeves to the elbow. I spent a few minutes messing with my hair, then touched up my makeup and emerged from the bathroom to face Mom and Gram.

  “Oh, you’re lovely, Bug. The dress is perfect,” Gram said.

  “It is perfect,” I said. “Who picked it out?”

  They glanced at each other and shrugged. “We’re just the messengers,” Gram said. “We don’t know anything more than what we’ve been told.”

  Mom smiled, her eyes all misty. “I’m so happy for you, Emma.”

  I moved to the door. “Are you guys supposed to come with me?”

  “We’ll be right behind you,” Mom answered. “But you go on ahead.”

  “And don’t forget the music,” Gram added. She stood, retrieved the sheet music from where I’d left it on the dresser, and handed it over. “And here.” She added a final sheet to my stack. “This is the last one.”

  Page one. Elliott’s name was listed clearly at the top as the composer, but there was no title, only a blank line drawn across the top of the page, where someone might write one in.

  “Go on, then,” Gram said. “You’ve got everything you need.” She shooed me out the door with a grin.

  I walked on trembling legs back to the elevator, taking it down to the main floor of the hotel. I looked for signs of my family as I passed through the lobby but didn’t see anyone. My family. All of them. Even Lilly and Trav. They were all in Paris. I couldn’t even wrap my head around it.

  When I finally reached the restaurant, it was empty. At first I worried I’d gone to the wrong place, but then I heard the piano.

  I followed the notes through the dark dining room until I found him seated behind a sleek baby grand under a large window in the corner, the city lights beyond sparkling like stars across the sky. A single lamp sat on top of the piano, casting a circle of soft white light onto Elliott’s hands. It was the only light in the room.

  He looked up as I approached, his notes trailing off midmelody as he rose and closed the distance between us. He swept me up into a hug, then kissed me gently, his hands lingering on my cheeks. “Man, I’ve missed you,” he whispered. He held on to my hand but took a step back as if to get a better view. “You look beautiful.”

  “Thank you,” I said. “I love the dress.”

  “I hoped you would. Lilly tried to veto the black, but I told her my vote counted twice.”


  I pressed my face against my hands, feeling like I was in a dream.

  “You okay?” Elliott asked.

  I nodded. “Just feeling a little overwhelmed.”

  He grinned. “In a good way, I hope?”

  I almost laughed out loud. Yeah, in a good way. “You brought my family to Paris.”

  “I did. I thought you might want them here to celebrate.”

  My eyebrows went up. “Celebrate what?”

  He didn’t answer but tugged on my hand, pulling me gently toward the piano. “Come on. I want to play something for you.” He motioned with his head. “Come sit beside me.”

  As soon as he began, I recognized the melody from the pages I still clutched in my hand. It had a simple, peaceful center and bright undertones that created a joyful, hopeful countermelody. Somehow the entire work felt like the promise of every good thing life had to offer. I generally liked to watch Elliott’s hands while he played, but this time I was riveted by his face, by the sincerity and love in his expression.

  When he finished, I sniffed and wiped my eyes. “How do you do that?”

  “Do what?” he asked softly.

  “How do you write all that emotion into your music? It’s like . . . poetry without words.”

  “All I had to think about for this one was you.” He leaned forward, whisking a tear off my cheek with the pad of his thumb, then kissed me softly. “I love that music makes you cry.”

  I huffed. “Most of the time it’s hugely inconvenient.”

  He chuckled, then reached for the sheet music, sliding it out of my hands. He lifted a pen off the piano’s music stand and tapped the blank line at the top of the title page. “Do you want to know what it’s called?” His eyes were bright and hopeful.

  Oh. My. Word. “Yes, please,” I whispered.

  He clicked the pen open, then, bracing against the top of the piano, wrote the words Veux-tu m’epouser?

  Elliott put down the pen and took my hands. “Emma, veux-tu m’epouser?” The French rolled off his tongue with such ease it sent shivers clear through me.

  Somewhere over my shoulder, a voice whisper-yelled out of the darkness, startling me mostly because I hadn’t realized there was anyone else in the room. “It means ‘will you marry me?’” the voice said.

  “Travis, shut up,” Lilly whispered. “She knows what it means.”

  “Sorry,” Trav said. “Just trying to help.”

  “You two are really spoiling the moment,” Gram said.

  “Shhh!” Ava’s voice quieted them all. “She can’t say yes if you all don’t shut up.”

  Elliott’s shoulders shook in silent laughter. “Are you still glad I brought your family to Paris?” He reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a ring, holding it up for me to see. “Marry me, Emma. Please say yes so the hooligans over there can just cheer already.”

  I held up my hand, and Elliott slid the ring onto my finger, the diamond sparkling brightly under the piano lamp’s pale glow.

  I leaned in and kissed him soundly, then said loudly enough for everyone in the room to hear, “Oui, monsieur. Of course I’ll marry you.”

  My family erupted into cheers while we kissed again. They gathered around the piano, hugging us and patting us on our backs, Dad and Trav reaching forward to shake Elliott’s hand. Through all the commotion, my eyes stayed on his, hoping he recognized in my gaze just how much I loved him.

  Trav clapped Elliott on the back, then draped his arms around our shoulders. “Okay, think about this: a joint reception for the four of us. You guys bring the music; we bring the beer.”

  Lilly appeared beside Trav. “Seriously? Are you completely out of your mind?”

  “What?” Trav grumbled as he dropped his arms. “It’s a good idea.”

  I wrapped my arms around Elliott’s neck and leaned in close. “Thank you,” I whispered. “For the music, for my family . . . for everything.”

  “Even Trav?” Elliott asked. He raised an eyebrow.

  I laughed. “Even Trav.”

  “You have my heart, Emma. Forever. There’s no undoing it now.”

  I leaned in and kissed him softly. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

  THE END

  About the Author

  Jenny Proctor was born in the mountains of Western North Carolina, a place she still resides and considers the loveliest on earth. She and her husband stay busy keeping up with six children and a growing assortment of pets. She loves to hike with her family, read whatever book she can get her hands on, and eat delicious food she doesn’t have to fix herself.

  Jenny hopes Love Notes, a reflection of her love and appreciation for good romance and classical music, inspires you to listen to Mozart and kiss your significant other as frequently as possible. Love Notes is her third novel.

  To learn more about Jenny and her books, visit her website at www.jennyproctor.com.

  Other Books By Jenny Proctor

  The House at Rose Creek

  Mountains Between Us