Beauty and the Baritone (5 page)

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked but oh my God, Mateo, you sing so beautifully. You’re the reason so many of us want to try and make similar beauty. A voice like yours is a celebration.”

He shook his head. “It is too much pain. To sing. To not sing. Whatever choice is made causes pain so I stay here and there is less. So much less and I can go on.”

“I don’t understand.”

She was the student, it seemed, always and so she folded herself gracefully to sit at his feet. The fire warmed her back while the sorrow on his face chilled her heart.

“Do you wish to know how much clay is created between us? How angry David is and how he used you to torture me?”

“That makes no sense.” She felt tight in her chest. This wasn’t what she expected to hear.

“The night it all ended,” Mateo said. “Nobody knows what the truth was except David and myself. How he had a party and we were all drunk, all stoned, all of us out of our minds and all provided by the great Devil of the Metropolitan Opera. And it was David who was supposed to take us to Connecticut the next day. But we were addle minded and he thought it was so funny. So damned funny.”

“Mateo,” she whispered but he went on.

“He got the car and suggested we leave that night. We were all still gone in the heads and he said that Urs should drive, he could do it. We never should have gone but we did. There was Urs and his girlfriend Terri. My friend Samuel was in the car and there was a soprano named Imelda. We were supposed to sing the next night for a private fund raising party. We could have gotten there the next day when we were sane. When drink and drugs weren’t messing out minds. We could have been there and lived.”

“You don’t think David did it on purpose?”

“Would he not be capable?”

God, she didn’t know. David seemed like many different people sometimes but capable of sending his friends into a dangerous situation for no reason at all? It didn’t sound right.

“Why would he send me here? What’s he doing?”

Mateo shrugged. Then he looked down and seemed to really see Carolyn sitting there. He reached down and touched her cheek gently.

“I don’t know if it’s guilt or just more games. David killed four people that night. Had I died he might have been able to live with it but I live and so he cannot appease the guilt or knowledge. Or perhaps it does not matter to him.”

“It matters to me,” Carolyn said. “If he did this, used me to try and hurt you…”

“Hush Carolina.” He stroked her cheek. “What happened cannot be fixed with anger and no matter how I have been broken, there is no changing what is. But tonight you reminded me that I am a singer and here,” he put his fist over his heart, “here, I find I am conflicted.”

“You should return to the stage.”

He drew away from her. Flames reflected in his gaze. “Shall I play Quasimoto? Perhaps Grendel?”

“You could have some plastic surgery to repair your looks if you wish.”

She winced after she said it but Mateo barked a humorless laugh. “I could have a face that perhaps would not frighten children but my body cannot be fixed, Do you know how many surgeries I have had just to be in this much pain?”

“Your voice should be heard.”

He held his hand out to her and she took it. He pulled her up and she came to him, carefully arranging herself on his lap.

“You will sing Carolina. You will sing and in you my voice will be heard again.”

“That’s not good enough,” she whispered.

“It is all I can do.” His face was warm as he laid it against hers. “It is enough.”

*** *** ***

Their time together was coming to an end.

Carolyn continued to sing for Mateo and her limited master class with him was intense but worthwhile.

“I’m already better,” she said one afternoon. “You’re truly a good teacher. Have you ever considered?”

Mateo was sitting at the piano and he casually picked out a few notes. “Si, I have considered. It would be a pleasure to be useful again but I cannot decide. There is time still.”

“What you’ve already given the world through your voice can’t be ignored.” She walked over to him and put her hands on his shoulders. “But what you could give through teaching would be extraordinary.”

“You are good for me Carolina.” He turned slightly. “You are beautiful, you are smart and you think I am wonderful. What a lucky man I am.”

“I don’t think you’re that wonderful,” she teased.

“Ah, it is in your eyes. I have sung and you have now become my fan.”

“Oh no Senor.” She put her knee on the piano bench and leaned into him. “Not a fan. I’m a groupie.”

He laughed and she brought her mouth to his and swallowed his laughter. She liked kissing him. Mateo loved to cup her head and hold her still while he tasted her mouth and she discovered that sort of acquiescence was of a greater pleasure than any she’d known before.

They seemed to be done with the games. Their kisses were wet but gentle. He loved to kiss the skin under her eyes and to nuzzle her earlobe until she purred. She loved how he played her. He was a maestro in her arms.

She wore dresses that he found easy to remove. Silken straps that fell from her shoulders, full skirts that could be pushed up. She welcomed him and didn’t hide it. He took what she offered and showed appreciation.

He closed the piano lid and moved her to it. The positioning was awkward but he could use the piano as support and stand as he fucked her.

She loved feeling him deep in her, loved the push and the give. There was no longer a question of hurt and they kissed eagerly as their bodies joined. If it was a music they created it was one of soft grunts and bodies slapping a rhythm together.

She came hard around him and he took her mouth hard as he climaxed inside her. His tongue thrusting into the wetness of her mouth as he spilled his seed and the tension left him spent and still within her soft body.

Her forehead was damp as he laid it on hers. “I have instructed Simon to arrange a car tomorrow to get you to the airport. And I hope you will accept my hospitality a little further I have arranged a hotel for you while in Hamburg. If you are accepted into the company they will help you find a place to live. If not, you can come back here to decide what you wish to do next.”

“That’s very generous of you.” It was and she was thankful that he was making her life easier. But it hurt. Somehow his words hurt.

“You will be amazing, Carolina.” He pulled out of her and carefully laid her skirt down to cover her. “Herr Smith,” the musical director, “will love you.”

“I’ve been taught by the best.” She pulled the bodice of her dress up and tried to feel nothing as he readjusted himself.

He looked at her and she thought there was something there but what it was she didn’t know. What she wanted and what life always gave her was never the same thing.

“You have stopped listening to the bad voices,” he said, touching her face gently.

“And you, Mateo? Can you stop hearing the voices that limit you?”

He kissed her briefly and gently. That was all the answer he gave.

>/p>

Sometimes it seemed as if it had never really happened.

Three weeks in England, three week living with a world famous baritone and then it was over.

She had gone to him thinking she would live a fantasy but instead she discovered that what was and what might have been were not the same thing. Mateo had been a broken man and when she left, parts of him were still broken.

Parts of her had been broken also. But together they’d also found a healing. It was small and it was just the beginning of a journey they would both take, but it had begun.

Germany was exquisite and lonely. Carolyn had auditioned and been accepted into the opera company immediately. What Mateo had begun, she continued. Another soprano told her of a teacher and Carolyn had begun retraining.

Those voices that told her she wouldn’t be good enough, were finally being silenced.

One or two men with the company had asked her out but she was uninterested. For the first time she was sleeping alone every night and happy to be doing so.

She missed him.

It was hard to accept at first, hard to truly understand but she missed being with him. They hadn’t been together long enough to really create a relationship but in a short time they had carved a place together that began to feel safe.

He hadn’t asked her to stay.

“Perhaps you might visit me in Germany one day,” she had said lightly, before leaving.

“I do not do much traveling anymore.” He held her hand as they stood by the door. Simon had taken her suitcases to the waiting car and she felt like it was unfinished. She had come for one thing and was leaving with nothing expected. He had given to her but the gift hadn’t yet been fully unwrapped. She wanted more.

“Not even for me?” She fluttered her eyelids, trying to seduce.

“If there were anyone that I would try for, it would be you Carolina.”

“But you won’t try, will you?”

He didn’t answer. He picked up her hand and pressed a kiss to the cool skin.

“When you came you said you were a gift from David. You have been a gift, Carolina. I will miss you.”

“I’ll miss you too.”

She lifted her face for a kiss and he didn’t disappoint. He kissed her softly, his mouth holding hers and his tongue tracing the seam of her lips. She felt a tear sting the inside of her eyelid.

“Travel safe,” he whispered.

She found a flat that she shared with another singer, Stefanie. Stef had a boyfriend and was often gone which suited Carolyn well. She wasn’t interested in a social life, she was allowing her life to narrow to opera, to discovering the world around her and to finally stop battling her demons and start truly understanding them.

No longer did she feel the wish to be used. She felt no desire for anyone and only wished to be heard.

She wanted to sing.

She wanted something else also.

Her mind turned often to a man in England. A hot blooded Spaniard who could sing the angels down from heaven but carried his own demons in his soul. She missed him. She missed his high handed manner, his scowl, his warmth and his voice. She missed being in his bed. She missed being with a man who was unable to use her as she thought she had wanted to be used but rather who helped her begin to understand the limits she placed on herself.

She sometimes even missed her old limitations.

They were preparing a Christmas concert and Carolyn was excited to be one of three sopranos featured in the song, I Heard the Bell on Christmas Day. It was her first featured performance ever. She knew why.

She’d been so tempted to write Mateo and extend an invitation. She wanted him to know that it might only have been three weeks but it was three of the most important weeks of her life.

“Will you go to a party with me?” Stef asked as they applied make-up before the show. “And before you say no, as always, think that it’s Christmas Eve. Don’t spend tonight alone also.”

“I don’t really party anymore.”

“You come and be social for a short time. Then you go back to the flat and eat your ham and miss the man you claim you don’t miss.”

“Yes.” It was time to stop brooding. And it was time to try to move on from a man who had probably already forgotten her.

Stef smiled, her round face almost cherubic. “Excellent. Maybe we can find you a happy holiday Carolyn. Whoever he is can just miss out.”

“There isn’t anyone,” Carolyn answered but her heart hurt even trying to lie.

Stef shook her head. “There is someone and he’s deep inside you. But you don’t have to stop living for him. You have to start living for yourself.”

“Just my luck,” Carolyn muttered, “my roommate is a German Yoda.”

Stef laughed. “First time anyone ever said that to me. Now do your warm-ups. Tonight a star will be born.”

**

The concert went well. She wasn’t going to be discovered as the world’s next Maria Callas but her voice had been true and she had felt a confidence she hadn’t known before.

The voices in her head were silenced and shamed by the applause. She might regret allowing them so much attention but not now. Not this night, the eve before Christmas. Not when the applause warmed her and a brighter future looked promising.

She dressed quickly and warmly to join Stef and the others. The party would be starting at Wurstküche, a favorite restaurant and then move to someone’s home. Carolyn planned only to join the others at the restaurant and then move on alone to her own flat.

Baby steps, she told herself. New lives begin with baby steps.

The night was cold and Stef had left moments before. “You will be there,” she warned.

“I’ll be there,” Carolyn promised.

There were roses from the Opera Director and a small bouquet from her teacher. She wanted to take them, to brighten her home and remind her of a successful night. And as she held them close to her body as she left the theater, she also acknowledged that she wanted to have that moment where she felt like a true star: clutching flowers, leaving the theater after a performance, knowing she’d done well; these were some of the joys of her life.

She almost didn’t see the man that waited by the wall. He was again in a shadow but when she stopped, roses loose in her grasp and her body suddenly yearning for who she’d missed so dearly, he stepped into the light and her heart exploded with joy.

“Carolina,” he said and she stumbled toward him.

“You came.” Her voice which had been so strong in concert was now brittle and weak. “I dreamed but I didn’t expect.”

His hand cupped her cheek and she was looking once again into the face that had gotten past her defenses. The man who changed her and the man she loved.

“I didn’t want to come to you,” he said softly. “You deserve better than a broken man.”

“You deserve better than me. But if you’re here I won’t be stupid enough to turn away. I’ve missed you so much.”

His arms circled her and he drew her close. “I thought I knew emptiness,” he murmured into her hair, “but after you left, I discovered what true emptiness is. I do not think my life can know any kind of happiness if you are not in it, my Carolina.”