Henry wanted Emma to come with him to one of Regina's concerts.
Emma was still reeling from the way Regina had treated her after the night they spent together. She hadn't tried to contact her since, though (neither had Regina). Emma knew better than calling Regina on the phone or ambushing her to make a scene, even if she was still tempted to. Besides, it wasn't all that clear to Emma why she found Regina's behaviour so offensive. Perhaps a matter of decorum? Sure enough, a goodbye kiss and a smile wouldn't have hurt.
Emma herself was not the greatest fan of long-term commitment, and the concept of spending a few hours in bed with someone just for fun, no strings attached, was one she was perfectly comfortable with. In fact, most of the time, she was the first one to act according to it, hating when people seemed to expect more of her. So why was it different with Regina? She wasn't sure. Maybe it just hurt her self-esteem to be the disposable one this time?
Anyway, she did her best not to let Henry feel how much she was upset because of Regina, even if she was determined for now to avoid being alone with her again. She had the feeling that Regina might keep wanting to see her and toss her out as soon as they were done, and no matter how glad Emma would usually be to sleep with a gorgeous woman who expected nothing else from her than a simple booty call, this time she wasn't in the mood to comply. Since there was Henry to consider, it was probably best to stay away from Regina altogether.
Henry didn't make it easy for Emma to avoid Regina though. He was begging her to go with him to one of his mother's concerts. With a few other musicians from her orchestra, Regina had founded a string quartet, which was to play during one of Emma's nights off. "You have to come!" Henry pleaded enthusiastically. "The program is awesome! They'll play the Rosamund quartet, and Borodin's number two, and -"
"Whoa, hold on kid! I don't know the first thing about classical music, remember? Who's that Rosamund?"
"Only one of the most beautiful string quartets ever! It's Schubert's number 13, and I find it even better than his famous number 14, Death and the Maiden! Not as obviously romantic, you see?"
"Not at all," Emma smiled. "I'll take your word for it! But I thought you were fed up with classical music?"
"Hm… It's not classical music actually," Henry admitted ruefully. "I kind of grew up in the orchestra's basket laundry, so… I just hate the way Mum keeps pushing me like I'm supposed to be the next Rostropovich and nothing else matters. I want to play what I like, for example Apocalyptica – it's hard rock music that makes a cello quartet sound like electric guitars, pretty awesome! But here's the thing about Mum: you must hear her play in a quartet. That's where she totally rules!"
Henry explained to Emma that if Regina was great to boss everyone around as a concertmaster, you could barely hear her play during her orchestra concerts unless she had a solo, since all the first violins played the same thing. Which was a shame, because she was such an incredible player. In a string quartet you could really hear her play, and she was resplendent as a first violin.
Emma suspected that Henry might have perceived something of her unease about Regina after all. It seemed he was now trying to show her his Mum in her best light. No matter how much he hated her sometimes for parenting him the way she did, as a musician Regina could always count Henry as one of her most ardent supporters. Yeah, Emma thought, the kid was loyal to a fault. She wondered who he took that after.
It was hard for Emma to say no to her son who wanted so much to share this musical experience with her, regardless of how little she looked forward to seeing Regina again. Well, it was not really that she didn't look forward to seeing her… If anything, she felt a bit nervous about it. It was like meeting someone you had a crush on and who completely ignored you – no, the simile was stupid. Of course she didn't have a crush on Regina! And Regina completely ignored most people anyway. There was nothing to be nervous about. Regina would be on stage and wouldn't even so much as notice Emma in the audience.
To convince Emma to go, Henry had even brought some MP3 recordings of the quartets so she could listen to them. He played them for her and commented on them in an educated but also very sensitive way, which made her feel quite proud of him. She agreed to go.
Emma had Henry to thank for listening to the quartets beforehand, because she found out that she only enjoyed more the music this way. As guests, they had very good seats in the orchestra area, only a few rows away from the stage. Henry whispered to Emma that the acoustics was great from here. And so was the view.
The four musicians, all clad in black, entered and settled themselves, solemnly tuning up before they started playing. Henry told Emma that all of them were from Regina's orchestra. Belle, a cute young brunette with a heart-shaped face, played the second violin; a mischievous redhead, Ariel, played the viola; and Leroy, a grumpy looking bearded man, played the cello. It was quite a marvel to Emma that such a stocky man could play the cello so beautifully in spite of his short arms and large chubby fingers.
And then there was Regina. She was something else altogether. As the quartet played, Emma soon found herself completely mesmerized by her. The four musicians were quite good, all of them playing as naturally as if their instruments were extensions of themselves, just another one of their limbs. But Regina, although she didn't overdo her part and never tried to steal her partners' thunder, had something special. What was it? Emma, overwhelmed by a rush of emotions, could feel Regina's violin make her skin tingle and goose bump, her throat tighten and her eyes prickle. That was unexpected.
Emma knew very little about classical music. But as she had told Henry, music is music – and good music will do that to you, it will touch you. In that case, it was not only good music (it was, if still unfamiliar to her) but also good playing. Emma could have guessed that Regina would be technically flawless. But it wasn't why her playing was so deeply moving. Regina seemed to pour the entirety of her heart and soul in the music, shadows and all, and whatever feelings she never displayed in real life, she just let loose under her bow. As she played and looked rapt, absorbed in the playing, her music was intensely alive with emotions. Emma had never heard such a beautiful and deeply expressive playing before.
Was she the same Regina? Here she was on stage, the cold and remote person who was so unlikely to display such intense emotions in public. How could she create such an enthralling, deeply personal music? Emma couldn't help thinking about their night together. For a while, Regina had let herself loose, completely honest and open, pouring into the moment everything she had to give; only, she had completely shut Emma out the minute she had come to her senses, pretending nothing had happened. Regina could only express herself freely through her music, which made her a great artist.
Too bad, Emma thought, watching in total awe Regina's gracious bow strokes and fantastically nimble fingers run up and down her violin' neck unerringly - this woman I'd love to get to know.