Eternal Melody (10 page)

“Sit down, Becky.” Ryan motioned towards the corner of the room where a round wooden table sat with two chairs.

Rebecca plopped into the seat
.

“Gregory lost his job at the steel mill. 
It happened just two days after we departed Michigan. 
When Grandmother told him that you and I had come to Europe, he saw that as a perfect opportunity to cash in and lead the life of leisure he’s always coveted.” Ryan saw that Rebecca was staring at him in blatant perplexity, so he
explained.  “Gregory and Ethel seem to think that if you
’re an opera singer in Vienna,
you will make a fortune.  They also fancy that they’ll be able to live off of this fortune.”

Rebecca had been sitting rigidly on the chair, listening intently to Ryan’s account, but when he revealed Gregory and Ethel’s true intentions, she jumped up like a feral animal
on the attack in the wilderness
.  “What?!  Come again?  Please tell me that you’re joking, Ryan.” She looked pleadingly at her brother, not willing to believe that Gregory and Ethel exp
ected her to be their benefactress
.

Ryan folded his hands and looked down absently at them, despising his role as messenger of ill tidings.  “I’m so sorry, Becky.  I wish I could tell you that it’s not true.  But it is.”

“So Gregory just came right out and admitted that?” Rebecca asked as she wildly paced the narrow confines of the room.

“Not in so many words, but he did strongly allude to it by asking what part you had gotten in the orchestra and how much you would be paid.  When I told him that there had been no more singing roles and that you were to stand by as an unpaid understudy, he and Ethel exchanged a transparent look that gave them both away.”

Rebecca recalled vividly the look that Ryan
must have
seen, as she had just bore witness to it in her chamber and knew it amounted to deception.

“What else did they say?” Rebecca asked with a sick feeling in her stomach.

“Gregory said that since you indirectly dragged them across continents that you should be

responsible for the outcome.”

“Why do they keep blaming me
?  You also came to Europe of your own volition.”  Rebecca pointed out, trying to make sense of the whole situation.

“Yes, I did, and I reminded them of that.  But they have stars in their eyes, Becky.  They
truly believe that you will become a famous singer and provide a decadent lifestyle for them, that it is your duty to do so.”

“Well at least they think highly enough of my singing to imagine that I’ll become famous.” Rebecca snorted cynically.  “What kind of provider is Gregory anyhow?  I can’t believe that he would actually want to live off the earnings of his baby sister.  It seems somehow emasculating.”

“I agree.  I certainly wouldn’t want you to support me.  But Gregory has always been
cut from
different
clay
. 
Being married to that princess Ethel hasn’t helped develop his character
either
.  She expects to do nothing and gain everything.”  Ryan mused.

“Well at least they’re compatible, then.  Though you’d never know it by the way they interact.”

Rebecca sat back in the wooden chair across from Ryan, grateful that she had at least one sibling with whom she could speak freely. 
She did not, however, feel comfortable enough to raise the subject of Luke and how the confrontation had occurred in his presence.

“
What do you think I should do, Ryan?  I mean, first thing after work tomorrow I’m going to see Grandmother and then…”

Ryan interrupted.  “Did you say work?  I haven’t even had a chance to ask you if you found anything.  Attending rehearsals and then the symphony performance with Luke has precluded me from doing all else the past few days.”

“I know. 
But let’s not talk about my work, it’s not important.  Suffice it to say that I am legitimately employed and will commence my duties tomorrow.
”

Ryan peered at her curiously, wondering why she would be so secretive.  “Becky, you know I’m not going to bid you good night until you tell me what you do.  Just spill it.  I promise I won’t judge.” Ryan said sincerely, sensing that Rebecca had found a post that was less than prestigious.

“I’m a maid, Ryan.  A maid.  Are you happy now?
  The job pays cash, and I need it in order to pay rent.
” She turned her face away, embarrassed.

“Becky, why are you looking as though you’re ashamed?  That’s as honest work as any!  At least you have a job, which is more than I can say for our brother.  If anyone should be doing
a job that is less than spectacular
, it’s him, the husband and
new
father.  I’m proud of you that you got this job.  It just confirms how determined you are.”

Rebecca had the courage to meet her brother’s gaze and gave him an impulsive hug and kiss on the cheek.  “Thank you, Ryan.  I should have known you would react with such
love and
encouragement
. 
I’m going up to my room now, but we’ll talk tomorrow and iron out this whole sticky mess.  Good night…I mean
Gute Nacht
.”
She managed a small smile
.

Ryan replied
solemnly
, “
Gute Nacht
, Becky.  Don’t worry about a thing. 
M
usic might sound dissonant in the
black
of night, but
all will
ring in harmony
come
the morning light.”

Chapter Seven

Rebecca suffered a fitful night of sleep, her comfort once again compromised by the
horrendous
mattress.  But her racing mind also kept her from slumber, as she tormented herself speculating what Luke was thinking after the humiliat
ing hallway showdown.  W
orries about how Gregory and Ethel’s presence in Vienna could affect her career also plagued her through the long hollow night.  By the time the waxing sun flooded the room, Rebecca was a wreck of nerves and troubling scenarios.

Trying to cork the bottle on her anxiety, Rebecca hopped out of bed, remembering the
parting
words Ry
an had spoken to her last night:
“Music might sound dissonant in the black of night, but all will ring in harmony come the morning light.”

She reflected on him affectionately, how he was a born poet, possessing a gentle heart that had soothed her as a young orphan and continued to do the same
in womanhood
. 
Saying a silent prayer that Ryan would one day find happiness with a
lady
who would shower him with love and appreciate his poetic heart, Rebecca
slipped into
a
plain
beige
frock
.  She was not sure if the job would require her to wear a uniform, but if it did not, she wanted to wear the most unattractive garment she owned.

Arriving to ground level,
Rebecca peered inside
the rental office
, but it was not yet open at that early hour.  If it had been, Rebecca would have rushed in there and begged, or even bribed, Beatrice not to rent Gregory and Ethel a room.  They did not belong in such an apartment building anyway, which was really a glorified youth hostel and did not house any families.

As she walked down the road, a picture of Luke in his uncomfortable bed materialized in her head.  She smiled to herself, remembering his comment about men’s muscles being more durable than women’s.  With a surprising tingle coursing through her veins, Rebecca found herself imagining what those muscles of Luke must look like when he was
sans
attire.  Even underneath his suits, Rebecca could see the Adonis-like display of hard, braided muscles in his abdomen and chest and his arms like blocks of iron.  He might no
t be an Olympic athlete, but he certainly has
the body of one, Rebecca thought with a shiver.

Once at
Alice Denmaker’s housecleaning service, Rebecca shoved aside her tempting daydreams of Luke and walked through the door with her typical theatrical flair. 
“
Guten Morgen, Frau
Denmaker.  Are you here?” She called as the older woman emerged moments later.

“Right on time.  Just what I like in a new employee.  Today, you will be
spending the morning tidying the mansion of Gerhard and
Louise
Brecht.  Here are directions to
their abode.  It is only one train stop from here.” Mrs. Denmaker handed Rebecca a slip of paper with directions and an address hastily scrawled.

“Upon your arrival, you will ring and announce yourself to the butler.  Tell him that you are the maid substituting for
Dahlia, who is presently in Poland visiting relatives.  The butler will present you with a list of duties, all of which must be completed before you clock out.  Is that understood?”

Mrs. Denmaker spoke with the calculated efficiency of a scientist, and free-spirited Rebecca could not understand her personality at all. 
It seemed such a dull way to interact with people.  But she merely nodded respectfully and awaited further instructions.

“The butler will provide you with a uniform that you may take home with you, as you will be cleaning the Brechts’ residence
daily,
until further notice.  Now, please be on your way.” Mrs. Denmaker dismissed Rebecca with the wave of her hand.

“If I may ask, when do I receive my first payment?” Rebecca ventured to inquire, not about to let that crucial detail go unmentioned.

“Friday morning.” Mrs. Denmaker said tersely.

Rebecca scurried out of the building and over to the rail station that was beginning to seem like an old friend.  Inwardly, she imagined what it would be like to have a horse-drawn carriage at her service, or one of the new
automobiles
complete with a chauffeur.

A myriad of daydreams carried Rebecca through the train ride and the short walk to the Brechts’ mansion
.  The estate was
situated on countless acres of lush greenery and meticulously kept flower gardens. 
She rang the bell and jumped, as the butler immediately answered the door.

“Hello, miss.  Are you the American maid Mrs. Denmaker spoke about?” The butler was barely Rebecca’s height, with thick fair hair slicked back and an accent that was identifiably German.

“Yes, sir.  I’m Rebecca Meadow.”

“Please step inside.” The butler said
, and Rebecca did not bother to ask his name.

As lovely as the Brecht residence was, it was a tad too ornate for her taste, and she wanted to finish her job as quickly as possible.  The she could proceed with th
e important business of the day:
visiting her grandmother and sneaking into the rehearsal hall to watch Luke.

“Here are your instructions.”
The butler
handed her a list of tasks, then
led her to a private dressing room, where she found a maid’s uniform that scandalized her upon sight.

“Is this some sort of costume?” She whispered
once he had excused himself.  With bulging eyes, she
t
ook
inventory of the
pencil-thin
black skirt, deep cut sweetheart neckline, fishnet stockings, and black heels.  “How am I to clean this monstrosity of a house in such impractical clothes?” She wondered aloud.

With great trepidation, she slipped into the
risqué costume and tied the white lace bonnet securely around her face, managing to cover nearly every wisp of her flame-red hair. 
Feeling as though she were dressed for some sort of wayward masquerade party, Rebecca grabbed a feather duster
,
along with
other cleaning equipment
,
and began the arduous task of tidying the
entire
mansion.

Rebecca slinked back against the door as she stepped out into the corridor, looking both ways to ascertain that the butler was not near to get an eyeful of her in the revealing costume.  She made her way into the main wing of the mansion, situated next to a
sitting
room complete with ostentatious crystal chandelier and velvet-backed armchairs.  Priceless works of art lined the walls, reminding Rebecca of her visit to the Mozart house.  Yesterday had never seemed so distant.

Overwhelmed, Rebecca walked over the marble floors, hearing the echo of her own footsteps and
feeling
uncertain of where to begin. 
As she was about to tackle the dining room table, still cluttered with breakfast china,
a throaty male voice interrupted her work.

“
Lecker
,
lecker, sehr lecker
.”

Rebecca bristled as she heard the comment addressed to her backside.  She recognized
lecker
as the German word for “delicious” and knew the man was not referring to the leftover scraps of omelet that were
congealing
on the breakfast plates.