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Author's Note
Pepper's Penance is a slow burning romance that unfolds over the course of twenty-three chapters. This is not a wham-bam story. But, if you're into that sort of thing, I think you'll like this one.
*
Chapter 11: An Invitation
I didn't see Pepper the weekend after that. People flocking to my little store would wander around for a while, walking by the baby grand that dominated the center of the floor, as if she were just off somewhere taking a break. I knew better, I knew we wouldn't see her today, but I didn't mention it. Pepper was right. She had me figured out. I wanted her in my store because of the audience she drew.
I milled around, offering help with finding items here and there, but mostly explaining that, no I didn't know why she wasn't here today. And when the crowd thinned because word must have gotten around, I sat at the front counter, touching up my henna. The only joy I found in it was that I didn't have to sort my bills at the same time. The cash was flowing, the ledger was moving into the black. It seemed the worst of my financial worries were over.
The only dark cloud over my head today had a name?and that name was Cayenne Pepper Alverez. Even looking at the half full pouch of dog treats stashed under the counter had me in a morose mood. I decided to quell my feelings with a corned beef on rye. I spent the next ten minutes wondering if that was a good idea.
The front door chime rang out.
"Namaste." Dave, the delivery guy held up a white paper sack in one hand and two Diet Cokes in the other.
"I didn't order?"
"On the house," he announced as he set the bottles on the counter. "Mind if I cruise the gear?"
"Be my guest."
Dave trotted off to the wall that was now overflowing with guitars, amps, and effects pedals. I tucked into my sandwich. I kept glancing down, expecting Trixie to be nudging me for a bite of something.
"Whoa, ProCo Rat," I heard. "Nice."
I glanced over my shoulder. "Whatcha find, Dave?"
"Vintage, man." He cradled a battered black box in his hands. "Oh, baby. There's no way I can afford you. How much is she?"
"Lemme see," I said, motioning him over. "No price on there?"
Dave shook his head. I pulled out my book and thumbed through it. "I bought it for thirty-five. What would you say to fifty, minus beylikdüzü escort whatever the two Diets cost you."
Dave frowned.
"What's up?"
"Can you hold it 'til Friday? I'll bring you two Diet Cokes everyday, I promise. Just don't sell it to anyone. Please."
"Don't worry. I'll hold it. And save your money, I don't drink this swill."
"Oh, right. Where is the lady with the dank hoodies, anyway?"
"I honestly don't know. I can't text her, I never got her number. She always just kind of showed up whenever I needed her. Until now."
"Things are rough between you, huh?"
"I guess." Why I was confessing this to my local deli delivery guy, I had no idea. "I think I scared her off."
"She'll be back. She digs you, I can tell."
"You can, huh?"
"Some of us were meant to go it alone. Like me. I haven't had a girlfriend since... I don't know, freshman year of high school. And you know what? I'm okay with that. I'm too into doing my own thing to ever treat her right, you know. Like, I got my guitar, I can pay my rent. I'm good.
"But lots of people, they need more. Your piano lady, she's one of them. She's been through a few rough patches, you can tell. The music that she plays. It's dark. Haunted. Something's really going on in her soul. Something troubling, you know?"
"She says it's her penance," I said, and wondered why everyone else in the world seemed to understand Pepper's music except for me. "It's for all the rotten things she's done in her life."
"She's reaching out to you," Dave said. "She needs you to be complete. And looking at your mopey face, I'd say you need her to be complete, too.
"It's like, you need her. And, like, she needs you. Whoa, that is so Wang Chung."
I nodded, even though I hadn't the slightest idea what he was going on about at the end. But in his own way, Dave had buoyed my spirits. Enough so, that I convinced myself I'd be seeing Pepper next weekend. She would sit at the piano bench like always and after the store closed, she would patiently teach me the scales she promised, with her fingers floating gently over mine.
Dave held out the ProCo Rat. "Keep 'er safe for me?"
I took the battered metal thing and set it on the counter, pulled out an old envelope from my bill pile and tore it in half. I wrote 'I owe Ashley $35,' on it avcılar escort and handed it to Dave along with his beloved black box. "It's yours wholesale. Pay me when you can."
"Oh, nice." Dave grinned from ear to ear. "I could totally hug you."
I stood up. Dave kept his promise.
"Namaste, my friend. Namaste." And he was gone with a chime of the front door.
* * *
Pepper was not on the same schedule as Dave and it took her until a week from Wednesday to finally come around. And then, it was only in the form of a sticky note on my door.
"Dinner," it said, and there was an address. It was in a nice part of town.
I wondered what had gotten into the woman who usually dragged herself in around lunchtime, to cause her to get up early enough to stick a note on my door before the store opened. But in my heart I knew precisely the reason. Just like me, she was as timid about my response as I was confused about hers.
I peeled the olive branch in the form of a sticky note off my front door glass and clutched it in my hand.
* * *
I stood on the front porch of a very nice Craftsman style one and a half-story in a neighborhood of well-manicured lawns. I had a half-gallon refillable plastic jug in my hand and a lump in my throat as I reached for the doorbell.
I heard a low harrumph that I assumed was Trixie's way of warding off strangers.
Pepper opened the door wearing a smile, a nice untucked button down, and a pair of khaki shorts. I stared for longer than was polite, I'm sure. I had never seen Pepper's legs in the light of day. I had definitely been deprived.
Trixie stood wagging her tail.
"Ash?"
Pepper tilted her head and looked at me. "This is the part were you say, 'Hi, Pepper.'
"Ash?"
I thrust the plastic jug out. "It's lemonade," I said. "Besides Diet Coke, I don't know what you like to drink, so... I made it from scratch. Real lemons, because you mentioned that one time..."
"Come on in, Ash." Pepper took the jug. "You mind kicking off the shoes? This carpet's a bitch to keep clean."
I stood in the entryway, looking around. Trixie nudged my hand and I absentmindedly reached to scratch behind her ear. To my right was a room lined with bookshelves along the far wall and dominated by a large, black lacquer grand piano right in the center.
"Told esenyurt escort you I had a piano at home." Pepper took my hand in hers. "Come on."

I floated along behind her and stood behind the bench. Right above the keys, in gold lettering, was "Steinway