Emma and her younger sister Lily had always been polar opposites when it came to matters of the heart. Emma, the eternal optimist, believed in fairy tale romances and grand gestures. Lily, on the other hand, approached love with skepticism and caution.
Their father, a practical man with a secret weakness for cheesy rom-coms, inadvertently shaped their views on love. After long days at his hardware store, he’d unwind by watching romantic movies, much to Lily’s annoyance and Emma’s delight.
One lazy Sunday afternoon, as the sisters helped their father organize the store’s inventory, Emma sighed dramatically. “Dad, how did you know Mom was the one?”
He chuckled, setting down a box of nails. “Well, your mother was different. She saw through all my bravado and made me want to be a better man.”
Lily rolled her eyes. “But did she swoon over your ability to organize nuts and bolts?”
“Actually,” their father said with a twinkle in his eye, “she was quite impressed by my mandolin playing.”
Emma gasped in delight, while Lily’s eyebrows shot up in surprise.
“You play the mandolin?” Lily asked incredulously.
“Played,” he corrected. “Haven’t touched it in years. But back then, it was my secret weapon.”
From that day forward, “the Mandolin Question” became a running joke between the sisters, a litmus test for potential suitors.
Years passed, and Emma moved to the bustling city of Oakridge to pursue her dream of becoming a pastry chef. She threw herself into a whirlwind of fleeting romances, each one starting with a spark but fizzling out quickly.
Lily, meanwhile, focused on her studies and rarely showed interest in dating. She was content with her books and her close-knit group of friends.
During their weekly video calls, Emma would gush about her latest flame, only for Lily to interrupt with a smirk, “But does he play the mandolin?”
The question always brought Emma back to reality, forcing her to admit that perhaps her current beau wasn’t as special as she initially thought.
As Emma entered her thirties, the sparkle in her eyes dimmed with each failed relationship. She began to question if her fairy tale ending would ever come true.
Then, on a crisp autumn day, Lily dropped a bombshell. “Em, I’m engaged.”
Emma felt her world tilt. Her practical, skeptical sister had found love before her? She plastered on a smile and asked teasingly, “So, does he play the mandolin?”
Lily laughed. “You know what? He actually does. Well, he’s learning. Says he wants to serenade me at our wedding.”
Emma’s heart swelled with genuine happiness for her sister, even as a pang of envy pricked at her chest.
Months later, at Lily’s wedding, Emma found herself at the bar, nursing a glass of champagne and wallowing in self-pity. She barely noticed when a tall, bearded man approached.
“You must be Emma,” he said with a warm smile. “I’m Alex, a friend of the groom. Mind if I join you?”
Emma shrugged, too weary to engage in small talk. But as Alex settled beside her, she found herself asking out of habit, “So, Alex, do you play the mandolin?”
He blinked in surprise, then burst into laughter. “Funny you should ask. I’m actually a luthier – I make mandolins for a living.”
For the first time in years, Emma felt a genuine spark of interest. As they talked, she discovered that Alex was kind, thoughtful, and passionate about his craft. He didn’t just play the mandolin; he understood its soul.
As the night wore on, Emma realized that perhaps she had been looking for love in all the wrong places. Sometimes, the most beautiful melodies come from the most unexpected instruments.
