Page 71 of The Sound of Harmony

Emma’s friend Brooke was exactly as Kendrick had imagined her. She was wearing jeans and a bright yellow t-shirt with a short-sleeved cardigan that hung to her knees. Her hair was piled into a messy bun, and she had an earnest expression in her eyes behind dark red glasses.

On the way to the IKEA store, he learned about Brooke’s job, how she also taught a class at the rec center and sang in her church choir. But what she seemed most passionate about was creating new fragrance combinations for her line of artisan soaps.

Brooke had wedged herself into the jump seat in the cabin of Emma’s truck. She leaned over the seatback, her voice rising above the traffic noise as she talked about scents and memories and trying to capture a season through a fragrance.

“What did you use today?” Emma asked. “I smelled it yesterday too, when I hugged you outside the bakery. It’s divine.”

Kendrick sniffed the air, detecting nothing, but he’d only come within handshake distance of Brooke. Her soaps must be more subtle than that.

“It’s the last of my fall line,” Brooke said. “Apple, plus some woody essences, plus honey, plus—believe it or not—tomato leaf extract.”

“Tomato leaf?” Emma glanced briefly in the rearview mirror but mostly kept her eyes on the road. “I would never guess that.”

“Most people wouldn’t,” Brooke said. “It’s got a fresh, lemony scent. No one can quite place it, but one whiff and they’re thinking about their garden and the last produce of the season.”

“What are you working on now?” Emma asked.

“I’m planning for the holidays,” Brooke said. “It’s my biggest time of the year.”

“But September just started,” Kendrick said.

“Cold process soap cures for six weeks,” Brooke said. “It needs a long time to become solid, and until it does, no one really knows what they have.”

Brooke looked back and forth between Emma and Kendrick with raised eyebrows and pursed lips. Emma was too busy driving to notice, but Kendrick was keenly aware of Brooke’s scrutiny. He knew when he was being auditioned.

“What’s that like?” Kendrick asked carefully. “The curing process.”

“It’s unpredictable,” Brooke said. “You think you know what you’ve made, but you’re not always sure. Sometimes it’s bland, or overpowering, or the color might be off. Sometimes you have stability issues.”

Kendrick found it interesting that she’d switched to second person. Who was this you she was talking about?

“Don’t get me started with stability,” Brooke said, her voice rising as she waved a finger in the air. “Fragrances evaporate at different rates and if you don’t balance it correctly? Poof. All that time you’ve invested is gone. It’s heartbreaking.”

“Has that ever happened to you?” Kendrick asked.

“It’s happened to everyone.” Brooke tapped his arm, all sunshine again. “But when you get it right, it’s like you’ve pulled off a magic trick. God, I live for that. I’m making something out of almost nothing—just experience and emotion and a few common ingredients.”

“Sounds fun,” Kendrick said, unsure if he was imagining the subtext in the conversation. Emma had warned him that Brooke tended to veer from topic to topic, mood to mood, but he hadn’t expected the tempo to be quite this uneven.

“What are you making for Christmas?” Emma asked.

“Let me tell you.” Brooke waved her hands as her voice became animated. “I’m trying some new combinations. I want to use a chocolate scent, but not a single-note cocoa soap, because who wants that? I’m trying to evoke that cozy feeling you get when you’re sitting next to the fireplace sipping hot chocolate.”

“So there’d be something smoky in there too?” Kendrick asked.

“Yes.” Brooke pointed an excited finger at him. “Maybe also wool for a blanket, to cut through the sweetness. I’m still working on my formula but I’m getting there. I’m also making some tried-and-true recipes in case this one’s a bust.”

“Are you making that vanilla peppermint one?” Emma asked with a sigh. “I love that one.”

“Everyone loves that one,” Brooke said. “They also love anything with pine, but I’m going to temper it so it doesn’t smell like floor cleaner. With the pine? Believe it or not, gardenia and lime.”

“Hmm,” Kendrick tried to picture it, but of course, you couldn’t see a smell. How could Brooke simply name ingredients and intuitively understand how they went together?

“I know,” Brooke crowed, sensing his confusion. “It’s not supposed to work, but that soap flies off the shelves of my mother’s gift shop. Can’t keep it in stock.”

“That’s Brooke’s genius,” Emma said, pulling into IKEA’s parking lot. “She knows what goes together and what doesn’t.”

“Hmm,” Kendrick said again. Were they still talking about soap?