Page 11 of Broken Chords

I lift up so I can see her. Her eyes are gleaming with delight, and a wide smile stretches across her face. I think I’ve been smiling since I met her in the lobby before dinner. “We’ve all gotta start somewhere, right? It’s fine. At least I have no doubt where A is.”

She giggles again, an adorable snort coming out this time, making her cover her mouth with her hand and her cheeks turning pink. I start laughing too. God, she’s so cute.

After we calm down, she glances between me and the music in front of her. “So, uh, how do I know when to start?”

“Usually I’d give you a cue, but since you can’t see me when I’m in the chair, how about I just count us in?”

“Perfect. Ready when you are.”

We play through it together, and she does well. Especially since she’s never accompanied anyone before. She doesn’t get lost or rush ahead or anything. If she hadn’t mentioned that she was new to this, I’d have no idea. She’s a pro, and she blends with me almost effortlessly. Sitting in the curve of the piano in such a small space, I feel wrapped in her music.

When we get to the end, the piano stills as I lift my bow from the string. We sit in the relative quiet for a second before she says, “That was fun. Let’s do it again. But I want to try something different.”

I smile at the happiness in her voice. “Of course.”

We spend the next hour playing through the Suzuki book, goofing off, messing around with it. She insists on playing each piece a bunch of times, changing her part each time. First she strips out the chords, only playing the melodies with me. The second time, she substitutes different harmonies, just chunking in different chords. When something clashes horribly, we both stop, laughing. So hard I almost fall out of my chair. Except there isn’t room, so I catch myself on the piano.

“Okay, okay,” she says. “Let’s do that again. I’ll try something different.”

“No no no,” I insist. “Do it the same way. Go for it. Fortissimo. Keep doing what you were planning on. See how awful it sounds. It’ll be the next compositional craze. Quoting middle school-level songs and using avant garde harmonic backgrounds.”

She snorts again when she laughs, which only makes me laugh harder. But we compose ourselves enough to go again, even though she giggles pretty much the whole time.

“Okay, okay. We saw how awful that sounds. Let’s try again and see if my fix sounds better or worse.”

I don’t even need my music anymore by the time we’ve gone through it. It’s just a couple of pages, a simple piece that I almost had memorized before we started. I played it as a kid. And I’ve taken multiple students through this piece. I’ll never be able to hear it the same way again, though.

We do the same thing with several more pieces, eventually progressing to playing them in different keys at the same time. It’s awful and hilarious and more fun than I’ve had with music in a long time. And this was my idea.

Her voice drifts over the top of the piano, echoing my thoughts. “Oh my God, this is so much fun.”

I set my cello down on its side next to me and stand so I can look at her, leaning my arms on the top of the piano. “The only thing that would’ve made it better is if we could actually see each other. Next time let’s do it in the instrumental rehearsal room.”

One eyebrow arches high, but her grin doesn’t falter. “I thought you didn’t want nosy people wandering in.”

I shrug. “Let them listen and marvel at our awesomeness. Especially you. I’m impressed that you can transpose so easily on the fly like that.”

A tiny smile tilts the corners of her mouth upward at my compliment, but she drops her eyes to where her hands still move softly over the keyboard. She does that thing again where she plays a few chords, but these are more interesting than the group she played when she first sat down.

“Well,” she says, “I’ve had a fair amount of practice faking my way through pop songs. I’m good at playing chords under the melody and making it sound impressive. Once I know the basic chord progressions, it’s not hard to transpose them. Especially after getting a better handle on the way chords actually work in freshman theory. And like you said, this music is pretty simple. So it wasn’t a big deal.”

“Maybe not to you. But I can’t transpose like that.” I cock my head, listening more closely to what she’s playing. “What is that?”

She stops abruptly, pulling her hands off the keys and clasping them together in her lap. “Oh, nothing.” She laughs, but this one sounds forced, not the easy laughter we’ve shared all evening. “Just messing around.”

Standing, I take a small step back. “Don’t let my curiosity stop you. I like it. It’s interesting.”

She looks at me, her eyes studying my face. One hand returns to the keys, her eyes never leaving mine. She presses down the notes, the sound drifting up from the piano. It’s a minor chord, soft and sad, and something about it—whether the notes themselves, the look on her face, or a combination of the two—something about the whole thing makes my heart twist. Like she’s showing me some part of herself that she can’t put into words. I hold my breath, freezing in place, afraid that any movement on my part will break this spell.

She blinks, dropping her gaze again, and the moment passes. Her left hand joins her right, and she plays like she did last night, one chord sliding into another.

“Play with me.”

The request startles me, her voice breaking me out of my reverie while listening to her play. I clear my throat. “Oh, uh, I’m not …”

She cuts me off with a shake of her head. “They’re just chords. Find a note that fits and play it. It’s not that hard.” She lifts her eyes to mine, the dark-rimmed irises cutting through me. “You’re the one who suggested this as a date. We’re supposed to be playing together, not me playing for you. I’ll give you tickets to my next show if you want to see me perform.”

I laugh at her last line, and she shoots me a cheeky grin. But I do what she says, sitting in my chair and picking my cello back up. I listen for another minute, trying to get a feel for what she’s doing. With no clear tonal center previously set up, I’m a little lost.

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