Ashley Zimmer is the third-generation owner of A to Z Music, a brick and mortar store severely impacted by the dot-com boom. Refusing to call it quits, she see salvation in Pepper Alverez, the lonely woman who plays beautiful, haunting music every weekend without fail at a public piano in a neighborhood park. Everything would be alright if she could only get the crowds that gather at the park, into her store.
But the agreement to play in Ashley’s store during the winter months does not come without baggage. Pepper’s sad, minor key blues riffs and improvisations come from a long list of what she sees as her past sins. Playing the piano is the only way she knows to express those feelings and begin her atonement. It is her penance.
As Ashley begins to understand Pepper, she’s faced with a choice. Does she view their friendship as a temporary business agreement, giving Pepper a place to play while getting the store back on its feet, or is it something more. And when Pepper makes things less than easy, how far is Ashley willing to go? Will she take the risk, turning a tenuous friendship into something more?
“You know I’m just here for the tiramisu, right?” Pepper smirked and picked up my hand again. “But, if you’ve got the time, maybe you could show me how to do the henna thing. No tadpoles though. How about a flower, like you had before? But only if you have the time.”
“You’re in luck. Tuesdays are always slow.”
“You mentioned that.”
I cleared up our finished leftover containers and pulled out the glue bottle full of henna paste. Pepper held up her hand and grinned. Trixie curled up for a nap.
I took Pepper’s hand and laid it on the counter. “Spread your thumb.”
“Like this?”
“Mm-hmm. Now try to be still.”
“Ash, really? Sometimes you treat me like a kid.”
I laid my left hand over her fingers while I tilted the bottle in my right. “Hold still.”
She did. So did I.
“Ash?” She tilted her head and peered up at me. “You gonna paint me up?”
“Hmm? Yeah, sorry,” I said. “Sometimes it takes a while to get the paste flowing.”
Pepper grinned. “Mm-hmm.”
“Keep your hand straight. I’m going to start the stem.”
Pepper shuddered. “Tickles,” she said.
“Try to control yourself.” I squeezed out a line over her wrist. When I was done, I absentmindedly brushed my thumb over her knuckles. I did it twice before my conscious brain kicked in and told me to stop.
Pepper said nothing, so I took a deep breath and kept drawing.
I laid out a couple leaves on either side of the flower stem. When I was done, I brushed my thumb over the back of her hand again. I held my breath as I did it, but still no reaction from Pepper. If anything, she seemed more relaxed than usual, so I kept drawing, telling myself that the occasional forays of my thumb were to keep Pepper calm so I could paint her skin more easily.
I had finished up the flower petals, leaving a smaller space for me to brush my thumb against, but it didn’t stop me. I was finishing up with some decorative dots.
“You’ll want to let this set as long as possible, so don’t peel it off until bedtime. If it flakes off on its own, that’s alright.”
“Does it bother you when I talk about Natalie?”
I stopped drawing dots and tipped the glue bottle back upright. “Why would it bother me?”
“Because, I think you like me, Ash. You put up with me, anyway.”
I said nothing.
“I don’t have many friends.” Pepper stopped looking me in the eye, choosing to speak to the counter top instead. “Well, any, really. Except for Trixie.”
“Trixie’s got a big heart.”
“So do you, Ash.” Pepper leaned in and kissed me on the cheek.
I still hadn’t figured out the kiss from three days ago, and now here was another one. Same idea, different cheek. I probably chose the worst possible reaction -- I froze.
Pepper laid her head on my shoulder for a moment, but I was still stiff as a board, and she straightened up again soon after.
“Pepper, I --”
“It’s okay, Ash. Trixie and I should probably be heading home.”
I looked at her, my brow furrowed. “Your tiramisu.”
“It’s alright. I’ve had enough for today.”
