Eternal Melody (26 page)

Rebecca looked com
passionately at her grandmother.
“
I understand, Grandmother.  This is all Gregory’s fault, not yours.
Does Ryan know?”

“Yes, I spoke with him
before coming up here to see
you.  Dear, I don’t know how to tell you this next part.  You are already so cross with me.” Gloria faltered, staring
intently at the window
.  Outside, the
turquoise sky was rapidly
transforming
to a milky haze
.

Rebecca wondered with dread what could possibly be worse than the news she had just received.  “I’m listening.” She said tensely.

Gloria sighed, the sound both musical and melancholy, reminding Rebecca of the w
oman’s
fragility.  Making a concerted effort to listen patiently, Rebecca unclenched the muscles of her face and awaited Gloria’s reprise.

“Rebecca, please know that I am unspeakably sorry for what I must tell you.  Before Gregory and Ethel left, they broke into Ryan’s chamber and stole all the money they could find.  Ryan had been frantic, thinking that terrible Greta had come back to rob him, but after I told him about Gregory’s gambling debts, he pieced the facts together.  So, I hope you have not kept any money in your chamber because there is a fair chance that Gregory might have broken in here as well.”

If Rebecca had not been holding the precious bundle of Annabelle, she would have jumped from the bed and run to the armoire, where she had put aside some of her pitiful earnings from Mrs. Denmaker.

“Grandmother, please check the armoire.  Top drawer. 
There should be a few bills in there.” Rebecca shut her eyes as Gloria opened the drawer, reached in her hand, and returned nothing but air. 
“They stole my money, didn’t they?” Rebecca asked rhetorically.

Gloria rushed over to the bed and sat next to her granddaughter. 
“Every evil action
has
a consequence, my dear.  I do not wish them any harm, but all of this gambling and theft will one day catch up to them in a most destructive way.  Not to mention how
they will suffer for abandoning their baby girl!
”

“Yes, and who is
going to care for Annabelle
?  Are they coming ba
ck for her?  Where did they go?
  Are they going back to Michigan?”
Rebecca released a
nervous
stream of questions.

“I have no idea where they went
, but I doubt they would dare to return to Michigan.”

“But that night when we held that ridiculous family meeting, Gregory made such a fuss about wanting to return there before winter.
”
 
Rebecca shook her head, suddenly realizing the depth of her brother’s deception. “
He was just trying to throw Ryan and me off track, wasn’t he?”

Gloria let out another woeful sigh.  “
I don’t know.  And
I don’t know what is to become of that house.  I may have to go back there
by
myself, but
I could not manage it all alone.  The grounds need upkeep, and I am certainly not fit for
the physical exertion that demands
.”

“Well I’m not going back there under any circumstances!  Grego
ry is not going to ruin my life!
”
Rebecca cried.

“No one is asking you to go back to Michigan, dear.  I am so very proud of you.  Darling, I would never want to deprive you of a career.” Gloria spoke with sincerity, looking lovingly into her granddaughter’s tear-brimmed eyes.  “We will not worry about the house right now.  All I can tell you is that Gregory and Ethel are on the run.  We should at least be grateful that they didn’t drag this poor innocent babe into their deplorable lifestyle.”

“You’re right.” Rebecca caressed the baby’s velvety
soft
cheek
.  “Annabelle is the real victim in all of this.”

“Yes, she is.  But I will do my best to care for her while you are
busy
performing.
” Gloria assured, taking the baby once again into her fold. 
“Speaking of performing, you have a show to prepare for, and I will leave you to your own devices so you can do just that.”

Rebecca groaned, “How can I sing?  Between what happened last night and what you’ve just told me now…”

Sternly, Gloria said, “Rebecca Sarah Meadow, you will not allow other people to finagle your destiny.  Your gift of singing is God-given
,
and you were meant to share it with the world.  Life will always hurl wrenches and rocks at you,
but
you must
continue.  Is that understood?”
Gloria cupped her granddaughter’s chin just as she had all the times Rebecca
when
came crying to her as a child.

“It is understood.  Thank you, Grandmother. 
You are amazing.  First you raise the three of us rascals, and now you have a great-granddaughter on your hands.  It’s mind boggling.”

Gloria looked suddenly uncomfortable again.  “Rebecca, how may I say this delicately?  Someday, God knows when, I will be gone.  It may be while Annabelle is still growing up and needs maternal care.  In that case, she may need you to raise her.  Perhaps you’ll have a husband by that time.  We needn’t fret about it right now.  As I said, let me be going so you can
prepare
yourself for tonight.”

Without another word, Gloria took leave of Rebecca’s chamber, leaving the young woman feeling desolate.
  Rebecca was deeply pained to think of losing her
grandmother, though she knew it was inevitable.  The prospect of being responsible for her niece left her with a
monstrous
knot in her belly that stayed with her through
out
the night’s performance.

*****

After Rebecca had sung the last note of the evening and reemerged for one last curtain call, she disappeared backstage to seek refuge in her dressing room. 
As she collapsed onto a plush ivory sofa and closed her eyes, she wished she had a cold compress to apply to her throbbing head. 
Thankfully, the performance had been excellently received, but everything that had occurred in between left Rebecca utterly depleted.

When she had rushed into the theatre late in the afternoon with barely a minute to spare, Mr. Graysen had pulled her aside immediately and explained everything he knew about Greta’s punishment.  He relayed how the ushers had brought her to the police station, where she had no choice but to confess to the assault.  Denying it would have been futile since there were so many witnesses.  She was jailed for the night and remained behind bars, but
only for the next thirty days.

The thought of Greta again on the loose m
ade Rebecca physically ill.  Rebecca
resented having to be at the mercy of this odious creature
that
had clawed and hissed at
her
, reducing them both to a subhuman level. 
Curling up into a tight ball on the sofa, hoping to ease the knot in her stomach that still had not come undone, Rebecca tried to chase away these negative thoughts and focus on the glory of that evening.

S
he lay her head against a gossamer pillow, almost too weak to lift her head.  If it were possible, she wanted to sleep in her dressing room, even if it meant being alone overnight in
the
dark, imposingly large building.  She simply did not have the energy to walk to her apartment building and climb five steep flights of stairs.

Rebecca was just nodding off to sleep when a knock sounded at the dressing room door.  Sitting up reluctantly and feeling a vertigo-inducing rush of blood to her head, she called out feebly, “Who’s there?” As she waited for a response, she expected to hear Luke’s familiar baritone, but instead she discerned the higher pitch of a young boy.

“It is Clive, one of the ushers.” The boy replied, as Rebecca struggled to wrench herself off the sofa and hobble to the door.

“How may I help you, Clive?” She inquired, opening the door just a crack, hoping the boy would see that she was in no mood for visitors.

“A
gentle
man left these flowers and instructed me to give them to you.” Clive explained, handing over a grand, multicolored bouquet of every flower a gardener could grow,
the blossoms as bold as a peacock’s plumage with
snowy baby’s breath
interspersed
.

Rebecca looked at the bouquet with confusion, wondering who the flowers were from.  If they had been from Luke, the usher would have said so.  Besides, Luke would not go through a third party and risk their relationship suffering even more public scandal.  He would have
hand delivered them with a gallant bow and tip of his hat.

“
Which gentleman
?” She asked.

The gangly boy, who could be no more than seventeen, merely shrugged his narrow shoulders and said, “I have no idea, Miss Meadow. 
He did not tell me his name.”

“But you saw him?”

Clive nodded.  “Yes, Miss Meadow, he was in the audience and asked me to give you the flowers.  He’s been in the audience every night since
the début
.”

If Rebecca had been drowsy before, suddenly she was wide awake and stunned by what Clive had just revealed.  The same man had attended every performance of
The Magic Flute
?  Why would anyone do such a thing?  The tickets were not as expensive as at major opera houses, but they were still costly enough to preclude nightly attendance.  Whoever this man was must have heaps of money, Rebecca concluded. 
Either that or he was the sort of deranged stalker she had heard about, one who falls obsessed with lady performers.

The prospect of a stalker made Rebecca shudder and want to lie down again.  She looked at the bouquet in her hand, amazed that
these
delicate flowers could seem so sinister coming from a questionable stranger.

“What did the man look like?” Rebecca demanded, scanning her memory to recall if there
had been
anyone
odd-looking
in the audience.

Sensing Rebecca’s fear, the boy tried to ease her concerns.  “Miss Meadow, you need not worry about this man.  He looks to be quite
normal
, well dressed, perhaps in his late thirties.”

Rebecca was not comforted.  Madmen could come in all shapes and sizes and from any economic background. 
The fact that her stalker wore suits and appeared to be a gentleman was meaningless if he
intended to harm her.  S
he
needed
to find out as many details as possible about the man, so she could pinpoint him in the next
performance, which would not take place until next week, she realized with an inward sigh of relief.  It was Saturday, and the ensemble would have a full three days to repose before their Wednesday matinee followed by four nights of exhausting, but joyful, performances.

Opening the door a little wider, Rebecca probed, “Please tell me everything
you can recall
about the man’s appearance.”

The boy seemed to be digging deep into the pockets of his adolescent brain as he shrugged again, “Miss Meadow, I mainly pay attention to what
the girls look like, you know.”

Seeing that she was not amused, Clive said slowly, as though excavating the memory from one of those
bottomless
pockets, “He was
very tall and thin
.  His hair was
brownish
, I guess, and he had opera spectacles.  Tonight, he was wearing a dark colored suit, maybe brown or black, I really don’t know.” The boy looked at her helplessly, unable to retrieve any more information about the mystery man.  “What else can I say, Miss?  You have yourself a secret admirer.” Clive grinned as Rebecca shot him a stormy look and gently closed the door.

She heard his footsteps retreat
as she threw the bouquet of flowers across the room.  She wished that she could be flattered by the idea of a secret admirer, but
her life had taken too many dangerous detours
lately
for her to feel lighthearted. 
Rebecca settled back down on the sofa, then instantly jumped up and lunged for the door, locking it behind her.  As unsettling as it was for her to spend the night in her dressing room now, she did not
have
enough
energy
to
walk home.  As she snuggled up against the gossamer pillow, she drifted off to sleep hoping that Luke would come for her.

*****

Rebecca awoke in the windowless dressing room with a start, disoriented. 
Her
head
ached
even more than the night before
.
A
clammy hotness
on her skin
warned of oncoming fever.  Tossing the pillow aside where her head had made an imprint, she slowly rose from the sofa.  Across the room, the
wretched
flowers were scattered over the floor, already wilting from lack of nourishment and light.