When Elisabeth finished dinner, Jackson bowed with a flourish. "And now the moment of truth is upon us. Where's your music?"
"I'll get it, but you are most definitely going first." She pulled a folder from her bag and they headed to the music room. Jackson shifted nervously on the piano bench. He longed to share his music with Elisabeth, yet worried she might not appreciate it; think it boring. Elisabeth stood at the piano which did nothing to allay his anxiety. "Don't you want to sit down?"
"No, I want to watch those fingers at work."
Jackson set up the score, took a deep breath and began playing. He relaxed quickly and lost himself in the music. He didn't look at Elisabeth until the end of the piece. Another deep breath was necessary to regain his composure.
Elisabeth held his face in her hands. "I can't find words for how beautiful that was, tender and haunting all at once. What is that piece?" She turned to the sheet music and saw it had been written in pencil. "My God, did you write this?" He nodded with a shy smile she had never seen on him. Elisabeth held the first page in her hand and printed across the top read, 'God's Promise Unfolding'. Her eyes widened with the realization that he wrote this beautiful composition for her. She broke down and fell into his arms. Jackson held her without speaking, understanding the depth of her emotion. He felt ecstatic that she heard in his music what he saw in her art. She lifted her lips to his ear, and through tears, whispered, "Promise you'll play for me often."
"I promise." They sat embraced on the piano bench for a few minutes more, then Jackson kissed her temple. "Your turn."
"Are you kidding? I can't sing now. My sinuses are all plugged from crying."
He picked her up, and crooked an eyebrow. "I guess we'll have to kill some time while you clear out." He dropped to his knees on the Oriental rug with her still in his arms.
She giggled, "So this was your plan all along, get me up here and have your way with me, huh?"
"Oh yeah, baby." He laid her down and started kissing her neck.
"I bet no woman has ever refused you in here."
Jackson brushed her face with the back of his hand. "I've never brought another woman to this room."
"Really?" She started to well up.
He cupped her chin. "Please don't cry again, we'll be in here all night."
"Would that be so bad?"
"Oh, Miss Sidwell, you have me quite smitten."