Emily smiled at her. Then the room started clapping, and it was Emily’s turn. She went to the bar’s piano and adjusted the microphone.

“Hey,” she said, and listened to her voice reverberate through the bar. “I’m Emily Solomon and I’m gonna play some Tracy Chapman for you.”

She realized, a second after she said it, that she’d used her maiden name instead of her married one. She hadn’t introduced herself as Emily Solomon in years. Consciously made sure she didn’t. But being on stage threw her backward, somehow.

She looked out into the crowd. Because of the way the stage lights were set she couldn’t really see the audience. She knew where Priya was sitting and could make out her shape, sort of. She knew where Rob and Tony were sitting, too, and turned her head in their direction for a second before she started. She’d practiced enough that she knew the lyrics by heart now, and knew what her fingers needed to do, too.

Emily slipped them onto the keys and began to play the intro before she started in about a fast car and a ticket to anywhere.

—

She thought about the words and thought about the time in her life when she felt them acutely. When she wanted out of her house as her mom was dying, when she wanted out of the situation she and Rob had created in college, when she wanted out of dealing with the pain of her miscarriage the week before. Without even thinking about it, she channeled all that emotion into the music, through her fingers, with her voice. When she got toward the end, as she started singing those insistent be someones, she felt that emotion coming back at her from the audience. When Rob played the night before, the room was riding on his energy. Here, the room was riding on her feelings, responding to her heart. She could feel them transfixed by her, no one moving, no one fidgeting.

When the song ended, the piano resonated for a moment, and then everyone began to clap. Rob got to his feet, and then Priya did, too, as Emily said thank you and then walked off the stage, past where Rob was standing. He reached out and touched her arm.

“It’s a crime that you’re not on stage anymore,” he said. “Come tour with me.”

Emily’s only response was to squeeze his hand, because she knew that if she opened her mouth, there was a good chance she would say yes. She hadn’t realized how much it meant to her to play, to share her music with other people, to make that emotional connection. How much she really missed it, really needed it to feel like herself.

“Wow,” Priya said, when Emily got back to the table. “You’re really good. Like, really good. I had no idea you could perform like that.”