“Hi, Mia.”
I looked up at Robert. He was wearing a sincere smile. “Ok let’s get started. Come on over to the piano, Jacob, and have a seat. Robert, can I offer you something to drink?”
Robert was standing between the two couches. He was looking down, examining the coffee-table books. He didn’t answer me for a whole twenty seconds and then his head shot up like he’d just realized that I asked him a question.
“Oh, no thank you, I’m fine,” he said as he pushed the books around on the table. Apparently nothing jumped out at him because he sat down and began scrolling around on his phone.
“A Photographer’s Life, The Annie Leibovitz one, is really good. You know her? She’s done a lot of work for Vanity Fair.”
He shook his head. “I’m fine, thanks.”
There were so many interesting options on the table that day; I was really surprised nothing sparked Robert’s interest. Along with the Annie Leibovitz book, there was Cecil Beaton: The New York Years and a book called Def Jam Recordings: The First 25 Years of the Last Great Record Label. On top of the three books, there was latest issue of The New Yorker along with a copy of Guitar magazine that Will had left. I shrugged, then turned around to stand behind Jacob at the piano.
“Okay, little man, let’s get started.” I showed him a couple of fun exercises to build dexterity in his fingers. He liked making the steady sounds, even if it wasn’t in the form of a song yet. He swung his feet under the bench and laughed as he pounded on the keys. He told me his mom really wanted him to learn to play. I said his mom was a smart cookie and that I’d teach him everything I knew. Just then Robert stood up and walked over beside me.
“Why don’t you play something, Mia? You know, so Jacob can hear a finished product.” The words “a finished product” struck me as odd, but I proceeded to sit down next to Jacob, who didn’t move from the center of the bench. I shimmied a bit, trying to get enough space to reach the pedals comfortably. Robert was clearly more interested in watching me play than hearing me play because he stood directly over me. With Jacob right next to me and Robert hovering, I decided on an easy piece since I probably wouldn’t be able to play well anyway. Just as I began playing Gymnopedie No.1, Robert spoke up. “Watch what she’s doing, Jacob.” Jacob looked like he was frantically trying to remember every move my fingers made.
In a low voice I said, “Jacob, close your eyes and just… listen.” Jacob closed his eyes while I played the slow-moving song with resolute attention. Even though Gymnopedie No.1 is an easy piece consisting mainly of a one-note melody and very little rhythmic complication, it has always evoked great emotion in me. I hoped it would for my audience as well. Jacob and Robert remained quiet while I continued. Once I finished, they both clapped, Jacob a little more enthusiastically than Robert.
“I think that’s it for today,” I said as I stood up from the bench and headed toward the door. Jacob scurried out onto the landing and Robert turned toward me.
“That was really good, Mia. I think Jacob will enjoy this. Dana, his mom, is going to be thrilled.”
“So this wasn’t your idea?”
“Well, I have Jacob every other weekend and his mom has been urging me to get him into some kind of activity. I suggested tennis but she thought piano would be better for him. I think maybe she’s right.” I sensed a double meaning from his expression.
“Did you study music in college?” he asked.
“No, I took lessons growing up and I guess I just stuck with it,” I said. He nodded his head and smiled kindly. I knew the next part would get him. “I actually have a business degree from Brown.”
He came to life. “You’re kidding me? I did my undergrad at Brown.”
I wouldn’t say I was shocked, but the fact that we had the same alma mater was something of a coincidence.
We continued talking about college and then Robert called Jacob back into the apartment so we could talk some more. We realized we weren’t at Brown together because Robert was eight years older than me. He’d been divorced for two years and was living in an apartment on the Upper West Side, but his ex and Jacob live in Greenwich Village, explaining why he was down in my neck of the woods the day we met in the café. He told me how Jacob loves the playground at Tompkins Square Park and how he’d been popping into Kell’s for a couple years.
I basically told him my life story in a matter of minutes. He said he remembered meeting my dad once and that he was sorry for my loss. You could have knocked me over with a feather when Robert told me he was the Vice President of JP Morgan. He was getting better by the minute. I thought he must be the most successful thirty-three-year-old I knew. Then the conversation shifted.
“Mia, I’m really impressed that you’re taking over your dad’s business and I think it’s cool that you have this little hobby.” He pointed to the piano. “I feel a lot better about Jacob taking lessons now.”
I knew what he meant and I can’t say I totally disagreed. He didn’t want Jacob messing around with something that would take him nowhere, but the way he said “little hobby” just irked me. I thought about telling Robert that I love music and that it’s a huge part of my life, but instead I just nodded my head and smiled. I couldn’t believe he would think a child taking piano lessons could possibly be a bad thing. I decided to overlook his little blunder and focus on the fact that he was a good-looking, successful guy with hopes and dreams for his son.