I’ve asked Harry to bring Leila to the music room, where I wait for her, trying to look poised behind the piano. As soon as she enters, I start to play. I can’t have a conversation before I get through this.
Playing “None More Foolish Than Me” for Leila is infinitely more nerve-racking than playing it for Vivian. I have to start over two times before my fingers are loose enough to get into the groove. And then there’s my voice. It sounds a lot shakier—a lot more shattered and vulnerable. In the audience of one, it matters who the one person is.
When I play for Leila, I don’t play with the same intention as I did for Vivian, whom I mainly wanted to cheer up. When I play for Leila, I want to find a way to convey that meeting her, being with her, has changed me. The song lyrics, no matter h
