'Finding Your Way into My Heart' by Andrea Goyan

Bring me a box of imported truffles from Gourmandises Sucrées. It’s the shop with a green awning on First and Main. Eat one of the chocolates. Savor the way the creamy sweetness melts on your tongue. Text me a description.

Visit the deli next door and purchase a pound of salami—taste several varieties, and pick the one you think I’ll like best. Add a wheel of brie and a baguette, and voilà, you’re halfway there.

Place the food in the reusable sack I gave you when we first met. The one with musical notes silk-screened on its fabric.

Have you figured out the melody of the song yet?

If so, continue to the wine store.

If not, backtrack to Pietro’s Pianos. It’s a few steps beyond the Frosty Freeze. You’ll see a sandwich board emblazoned with a keyboard out front. Ask the man behind the counter for help, but don’t call him Pietro. No one named Pietro works there. Tell him you’re lost, music being as foreign to you as French. Can he play the bag’s notes on a piano or hum them for you? Once you can repeat them, or even better, sing the song, thank him, and continue to the wine store. The one a block from my home.

Buy a chilled bottle of Billecart Salmon Rose, because if you’ve made it this far, I anticipate a great celebration.

When you arrive, I may, in my excitement, set everything on the table in the sun. Don’t be angry if the chocolates melt or champagne gets too warm to enjoy.

Instead, sing the song to me. Sing with abandon, even if you’re unsure. Sing so my heart hears. Sing so my soul answers with harmony.

Now, hurry. I’ve waited a lifetime and am impatient.