Emma and Regina's private jam sessions became part of their teatime meetings. They both had fun, Regina getting to improvise freely, building up on whatever Emma came up with; and Emma getting from Regina bits of folk and classical themes surging from her learned fingers, ternary beats and fiddle ornaments she tried to make sense of with her guitar.
More importantly, music conveyed their emotions and feelings better than words. When they talked, they discussed Henry, or work, or everyday life – they stuck to safe topics. But music was for both of them the door to unchartered, more thrilling territories.
"I'm your greatest fan!" first confessed Emma's eyes and music to Regina as she recreated from memory bits of the Rosamund quartet. Did Regina understand? She smiled and answered in kind, mimicking some of Emma's guitar variations, "You're not so bad yourself, dear." Or at least, that's what Emma thought she heard. From there, Emma went to "Do you like me? 'Cause I kind of do," in the guise of a thoughtful tune in D minor. Regina replied with a dazzling variation in D major. "Silly, would you be here playing with me if I didn't?" Emma translated. That melody went to and fro in endless variations before Emma was finally convinced that she had got Regina's admission right. But Regina's warm gaze and genuine smile were quite impossible to misunderstand.
Emma barely slept that night. Something was going on between them after all.
"You're so lovely today," next sang Emma's guitar as well as her very soul in a series of sunny chords in G, "I want to spend the rest of my life just looking at you." Regina played a string of lively triplets that seemed to gambol right into Emma's heart, seeming to answer mischievously, "I hope you intend to do more than that!"
"I love you," Emma then serenaded hopefully. "My darling, you are so mine," Regina replied fiercely in a passionate Romantic burst, her eyes shining and the loveliest rosy shade suffusing her cheeks. Wow, really? Was it where they were now standing?
Sometimes, Emma had doubts and told herself she might actually be making the whole thing up. How could such deep feelings be exchanged wordlessly between them, and how could she be sure that she understood all this correctly? But then, she looked at Regina who held her questioning gaze, unwavering and confident. She trusted her instinct – she was not alone in this. Still, beyond the music, Regina didn't make a move.
One day, Henry came home in the middle of one of their sessions. Usually, they played music first, and then had tea. That afternoon, they hadn't paid attention to the time, carried away by the trade of heated variations on a tango theme. "Wow, Mum," said Henry still in his coat from the doorframe, "This is hot! It sounds fantastic! Can I play with you?"
Emma and Regina, whose instruments had covered the noise of Henry's return, both turned to him in surprise, a little guilty to be caught in the middle of their feverish exchange. What exactly did he mean by hot? Regina was the first to pull herself together, and answered, discretely pleased, "Sure Henry, go get your instrument, we'll wait!"
Henry ran to his room. Regina gazed at Emma, a smile in her eyes. Emma winked and played a happy little theme on her guitar. Henry came back, holding his bow and cello. When Regina saw which instrument he had chosen, she beamed. "All right, Henry," she said, her voice thick with emotion, "Why don't you sit with Emma over there?"
Henry sat on the opposite end of the couch from Emma, making sure he had enough room to draw his bow, and adjusted his endpin. "Go on," he said, "don't wait for me, I'll catch up."
Emma smiled at him encouragingly and nodded to Regina, who played a merry folk theme a few times, each one adding minor variations. Emma picked up the theme and Regina's violin faded in the background, softly playing a bass line on its lower strings. After a few moments, Henry played the theme too, adding his own variations and ornaments. Regina picked up the theme again and the clear, high-pitched violin notes intertwined with the deep, vibrant ones of the cello. Making up for the lack of sound amplitude by the swiftness of her playing, Emma happily followed.
"Awesome!" Henry said when the session came to an end, grinning broadly. "Making music with you mums is so fun!"