Prom and Prejudice

The thought of my treatment toward Darcy made me feel incredibly guilty during the tea, especially since his family was so warm and welcoming.

I hardly spoke, just observed, and kept trying to put all the pieces of this puzzle together.

Ms. Reynolds turned her attention to me. "So, Lizzie, what are you performing for the year-end recital?"

"Rhapsody on a Theme of Paganini."

"Impressive," she replied. "I didn't tackle that until I went to college. I'd love to hear you play." She nodded to the Steinway that was near the front window.

"Oh, well, I'm having some problems with the runs."

She nodded knowingly. "The last variation?"

"Yes."

"That's a tough one. The sheet music that I learned it on had the most ridiculous fingering recommendations. I guess it could be considered helpful, if you have six-fingered hands. Here, I'll show you a trick." She got up and motioned for me to join her at the piano.

I was in a near trance as I walked over to the bench.

"What I figured out is that if you cross over at this point" -- she played part of the run -- "it lets your fingers easily move up." She did it once slowly so I could see, and then again at full speed.

She got up so I could try. I tried to not be too intimidated as she stood behind me and I tried her method. It worked. It worked so well that for the first time I was able to do the entire run without my fingers running into themselves.

"Thank you!" I hesitated for a second and then did it again to make sure it wasn't a fluke.

"May we hear what you have so far? That's one of my favorite pieces."

Claudia Reynolds was asking me to play for her. Claudia Reynolds, who had just performed at Carnegie Hall. Claudia Reynolds, who had just taught me how to do a flawless run.

Claudia Reynolds, who was Will Darcy's mother.

The only thing that made sense to me was Rachmaninoff.

I gently ran my fingers over the keyboard, going over the piece in my mind. Then I began. I hadn't played the piece for anybody except Mrs. Gardiner. I generally got nervous performing new pieces for people. I would always start with my mom, then my dad, then my friends. But this time I dove in headfirst.

I don't even know if I breathed for the entire piece. I completely expected to forget a section or stumble, but I didn't. I hadn't even played all the different variations back-to-back yet, but there I was, in Claudia Reynolds's house ... in Darcy's house, playing.

When I finished, I looked up and was somewhat startled to find Darcy standing right next to the piano with Georgiana.

I blushed, embarrassed that I would be seen as showing off.

The group applauded and I saw that my mother had tears running down her face. "I'm so proud of you," she sobbed.

Darcy's mom came over and gave me a hug. "That was brilliant."

"Because of you. I can't thank you enough for everything, really," I blubbered.

"Will and Georgiana, do either of you play?" Mom asked.

Will shook his head. "I tried, but I wasn't that good at it. I apparently didn't inherit the musical genius gene. But Georgie, on the other hand." Georgianas face reddened. "She can sing and play both the piano and the flute."

"I'd love to hear you," I said.

She replied softly, "I'll play the flute," and then went running upstairs.

"Wow." Darcy looked at his mom.

Ms. Reynolds was beaming. "She must really like you; she generally won't play for new people."

Georgie came down and treated us to a mini-concert of a few Mozart and Bach solos. Her cheeks were ruddy from the attention, but she was magnificent. I caught glimpses of Darcy watching. He was clearly proud of her. I couldn't imagine what it must have been like for him to have one of his supposed closest friends try to take advantage of her.

After Georgie's concert and kind words from the group, Ms. Reynolds gave us a tour. "I'm so sorry Will Senior couldn't be here today. He's traveling on business. We made a pact that at least one of us had to be home at all times."

Their house was large, and not just by Manhattan standards. It was five stories, complete with a screening room, library, music room, billiards room, and a rooftop pool. It wasn't ostentatious, it was roomy and comfortable. Exactly the opposite of what I would have pictured Darcy's home to be like.

The place was filled with pictures of the four of them on vacation. There was a particularly embarrassing one of Darcy on a sailboat when he was twelve.

"Oh, wow," I said as I took in a photo of a young sunburned Darcy with metal braces and a baseball hat with droopy dog ears holding a fishing rod with a very tiny fish attached at the hook. "Don't they make clear braces? I thought metal ones were just for charity cases."

"Yes, well, I was told it would build character. Apparently not. As I'm sure you can imagine, this is my least-favorite part of the tour." We both laughed, and it startled me how friendly we were both being. That it didn't feel forced. Like during our walks ... before he decided to talk.