Page 51 of Lance

“Good job,” I tell him. “Why don’t you go put your juice in the kitchen and then you can have alook.”

He’s off the couch in a flash. “Walk!” Willa calls after him. She glances at the pristine keys. “And wash yourhands!”

I sit down on the bench and Willa comes to stand beside me. “Twenty-thousand dollars,” shemutters.

“It’s a Steinway,” I tell her. “They’re thebest.”

“They better be, for that price.” Her fingers drift up to brush against the shining mahogany lid. “This thing ishuge.”

“It’s actually the smallest model. A Steinway concert grand is muchbigger.”

She shakes her head as Simon skids back into the room. “Can I touch it now?” heasks.

“Climb up here,” I tell him, making room on the bench. I wait for him to get settled. “Okay, the most important thing to remember is that this is not a toy. You have to always ask before you touch it. Gotit?”

“Got it,” he says, noddingseriously.

“And you can’t bang on the keys,” I say. “You need to be gentle. And your hands should always beclean.”

He nods again, now looking a little freakedout.

“Alright,” I say. “Go forit.”

He looks up at Willa, clearly uncertain, and she nods at him. He places his little fingers on the keys and presses down so lightly they barely make a sound. I laugh. “You don’t need to bethatgentle.” He tries again, not much harder than the first time. “Here,” I say, placing my own hands on the keys. “Like this.” I play a simple scale. “Can you try that?” Simon mimics my actions. “Good.” I move up a half step and repeat the scale, Simon copying me again. “You’re a pro,” I tell him, and helaughs.

“This is what you do for work?” heasks.

“Pretty much. Sometimes I play guitar,too.”

“You can play guitar?” he asks, wide-eyed, and I groan at his reaction.Typical.

“Piano is much cooler than guitar,” I tell him. “Piano takes realtalent.”

“Well why don’t you play us something then,” Willa says, amusement in hervoice.

I look up at her, raising my eyebrows. “Do I detect a challengethere?”

She raises her eyebrows right back. “Oh, I think youdo.”

I look over at Simon. “Anyrequests?”

“Star Wars,” he says immediately, and Willalaughs.

“Lance is more of a rock n’ roll kind of guy,” she tellshim.

“No faith,” I mutter, cracking my knuckles before placing my hands on the keys. I close my eyes, thinking, hoping I’m remembering it right, and then I start to play, the notes coming back to me as easily asbreathing.

Simon gives an excited little whoop. “That’s Vader’ssong!”

I glance up at Willa as I continue to play. “You really shouldn’t doubtme.”

“How do you know this?” she asks,laughing.

“We did a John Williams medley in jazz band my senioryear.”

Her laughter gets louder but I don’t mind. Laughing is definitely much better than crying. “You were in jazzband?”

“I’ll have you know that jazz band wasverycool.”