The Song

Part Ten

FLASHBACK CONT…

“I’ll have the soup and some baguette please,” I smiled, closing my menu and passing it over to the waitress. I watched on as Aston ordered a sandwich and then I sat silently, scrutinizing him.

“I’m surprised you came out,” he said, sipping his water.

“Really?”
“I caught a vibe off you the other day… you seem very stubborn.”

“I’m not really,” I shrugged.

“You said I wasn’t your type.”

“You’re not,” I grinned, “You’re the polar opposite of the kind of guy I would normally go out with.”
“Really?”
“From the beanie on your head to the trainers on your feet,” I said, “You’re very much not my type.”

“So why did you agree to come to lunch with me?” Aston asked.

“I’ve had enough deadbeat boyfriends,” I replied, “Guys who were trying to make it with their band, or trying to sell their art in some warehouse gallery in the middle of nowhere. They were all the same. They’d end up moving into my place after only a few weeks and pretty soon I would be supporting them completely. It would always end in drama.”
“Why would you let that happen more than once?” Aston asked.

“Because I’d be smitten. I’d fall hard and hope they were different from the last. But they never were.”
“How many guys?”
“Three.”
“Wow,” Aston said, “That sucks to get messed around that many times.”
“I thought the last one would pull through,” I replied, “He seemed like he had a bit more going for him. But he was the one who cheated.”
“Snap.”
“Well, I kicked him out and he had to move back in with his parents,” I said lightly, “All his fault.”
“That sucks.”
“Oh well,” I replied, “Learn from it and move on. I’m here because I’m trying something new.”
“So no more starving artists?” Aston asked.

“I never said that…”
“Well, you’re out with me!”
“You could be a starving artist,” I said.

“I was once,” he replied vaguely, “Before we went on X Factor and our careers really kicked off.”
“So you could have been my type.”
“He’s in here still,” Aston grinned pointing at his chest, “Same mentality.”
“Hmm…” I mused, leaning back as my soup was placed before me. I wasn’t entirely sure where this conversation was going but soon I was telling him all sorts of things about my family and upbringing.

“I think we’ve got more in common than you realize,” Aston said as our dishes were swept away.

“Maybe.”
He stared at me, swirling the straw in his glass of water for a minute. “Why piano?”

“My Stepmom, Caroline.”
“What about her?”

“Well, when she first started dating my Dad I was pretty little. Three or so. She was a primary teacher with the really little ones and she had a piano in her classroom. She used to play simple songs and sing them with her class.”
“Ok…”
“One day my Dad took me to her classroom after hours to pick her up and she let me play on it,” I smiled, “I thought it was the greatest thing ever. It literally lit up my face to touch a key. She offered to teach me how to play.”

“That’s nice,” Aston smiled.

“That’s what started the bond I have with her. I’ve never really got on with my Mum. We’re just too different to see eye to eye. But Caroline, she gets me. It didn’t take long for me to move beyond her skill set and soon I was studying with real piano teachers. I’ve always loved it.”
“Is that why all your students are so young?” Aston asked, “Because your Stepmom taught you from such a young age.”
“Maybe, I never really thought of it like that.”

The waitress came after that and Aston handed over a few bills, standing up and grabbing his coat.

“Thanks for lunch,” I said politely as we walked back to the piano shop.

“No worries,” he said, “I enjoyed it.”
“I don’t know why, I just talked about myself the whole time.”
“Exactly,” he replied with a wink.

I gave him a weird look, shaking my head lightly as his statement set in.

“I should get back to work,” I said, nodding at the shop.

“Sure, I’ll be in soon for another lesson.”
“I’m sure you will be,” I smiled.
“Lunch again sometime?”

“Maybe,” I replied coyly, pushing my way back into the shop. The chime on the door sounding. I didn’t look back at Aston, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to. I had no idea what I was doing with him, and until I figured it out I wanted to see as aloof as possible.

“Jess, great you’re back,” my boss said before I’d even set my purse down, “There’s a customer that is inquiring about the Steinway, do you mind helping her?”
My head snapped to the floor of the store, a woman hovering near my favorite grand piano.

“Sure,” I muttered, slipping my coat off and going to help her.

I answered a few questions, not offering much help. It was a thing I did, sabotaging the sale of this one piano. I just loved it too damn much to watch it be sold. I’d only let it go to the right person, and I knew just from looking at the woman that she was not the right person.

The door twinkled again as the woman left, promising she’d return once she’d thought the piano over. Everyone said this, and they never came back.

I looked up to see Aston striding into the store, looking to see if my boss was still around.

“He left.”
“Are you ok?” he asked, a worried look on his face.
“What?”
“I saw you through the window, you looked upset.”
“Upset?” I scoffed, “I’m fine!”

“It’s this piano isn’t it,” he said, “I could tell you were not pleased that lady was looking at it.”
“Look, don’t worry about it,” I snapped, “I’m fine.”
“You want it,” Aston smirked, “You didn’t want her to buy it because you want it.”
“No. I just want it to go to someone who deserves it,” I said, sitting at the bench and letting my fingers trail over the keys, “It’s a very special instrument.”
Aston sat down next to me, not saying a word as I let my mind wander and my fingers press the keys. I didn’t play anything real, just something that came to mind in the moment.

“That’s a really beautiful song,” Aston said, “What is it?”
“I just made it up.”