Eternal Melody (8 page)

“Thank you…Luke.” She addressed him by name for the first time, and he looked deep into her eyes with obvious pleasure.  “Red roses are my favorite.  And as for Grieg, well he must be the most brilliant man ever to come out of Norway!”

“You mean other than Ibsen?” Luke clarified, referencing the playwright whose works he had devoured in high school.

Rebecca wrinkled her nose distastefully.  “More brilliant than Ibsen,
I would say
.  It’s nothing personal against him, but I never enjoyed reading theatre.  Theatre was meant to be performed, not read
from a textbook
.”

“Yes, well, Ibsen’s plays have been performed
once or twice.” Luke reminded her with amused sarcasm
as she grinned.

“Of course they have.  I suppose I was thinking of how my grandmother made me read those plays as a girl.  She was a very strict tutor
and made certain that I became acquainted with every cultural gem she could get her hands on.”

“So your grandmother schooled you?” Luke probed.

“Yes, but that’s a story for another day.” Rebecca said evasively.  “About my beloved Grieg…I could listen to his
Piano C
oncerto
all day long.  Is that part of your
repertoire?”  Rebecca asked, imagining what it would be like to hear Luke recreate the stunning piec
e of music on the piano.

“As a matter of fact, that concerto is the piece I played when I auditioned for Mr. Grayse
n.  But then he told me that the orchestra needed a violinist
, so I switched to Tchaikovsky’s
Violin Concerto
.” Luke recalled fondly, struck by the fact that Rebecca should ask
him about that particular piece.

Rebecca looked at him through eyes as
pearly
blue as the summer sky and marveled, “That must have cinched it for you.  I’m sure you hooked him from the first note!”

“Thank you, Rebecca.” Luke returned her intense gaze, then pointed ahead of them.  “There’s the rail station.  Prepare yourself for a glorious day in Salzburg!”

They boarded the train just as the departure whistle was blowing.  Luke deferred to Rebecca and let her take the window seat, as he sat close by her side.  The train ride through the Austrian countryside was marked by
breathtaking
scenery.  Ridged mountains surrounded
mystically
crystal lakes where Narcissus himself would have admired his reflection for hours. 
Fields filled with shepherds tending their wooly flocks stretched over sprawling properties dotted with gingerbread-like houses.

Rebecca gazed dreamily out the window, feeling for the first time since arriving in Europe that she had made a good decision.  Just for that moment, she almost could believe that she was on holiday, a glamorous vacati
on traversing the heart of
Europe
.

“Everything is so magnificent here.  It’s nothing like Grand Rapids.  I guess Strauss was right when he wrote ‘On the Beautiful Blue Danube.’” She breathed, as Luke gave her a quirky smile.

Luke smirked.
“I’m sorry to disappoint you, but t
he Danube River is as brown as swamp mud.  Strauss was romanticizing the waters when he composed that piece.”

Rebecca looked disillusioned by this bit of trivia.  “You mean to say that the Danube really isn’t blue at all?” Luke shook his head vigorously, as Rebecca pouted.  “Brown as swamp mud you say?” She repeated, earning a chuckle from him.

“Brown as swamp mud after a torrential rainstorm.” He added, wickedly amused by the stricken expression on her lovely features.  “But don’t worry.  You’re not imagining how lovely this land is.  Wait until we get to Salzburg.  Then you’ll really fall in love.” Luke rested his eyes lingeringly on her and wondered if she perceived his double meaning.  If she did, she did not make it known.

Instead, she fell mesmerized beholding the increasingly dramatic views as the train rolled into Salzburg Province.  Rushing streams intermingled with narrow gorges carved through limestone rock, as imposing castles perched high on hilltops
.
Rows of pine trees enshrouded the scenery
,
breathing a dewy mist into the air and lending an enchanted aura
.  They passed cathedrals with intricate stained glass windows, and then a monastery with thirteenth century cloisters.

“You see that monastery?” Luke pointed as Rebecca’s eyes followed in fascination.  “That leads to a salt mine accessible by underground caverns.  It’s a natural phenomenon.”

“
This whole place is amazing.  I’ve never seen anything like it.  I thought Vienna was beautiful, but it can’t compare to this!” Rebecca marveled.

“No,” Luke smiled, “Vienna is the center of commerce, but Salzburg is
the place for culture and nature
.”

Rebecca reflected on his words
and marveled at how
the Alps seemed but a hair’s breath away from this vantage point.

By the time they arrived in Salzburg, Rebecca was famished.
  Luke took her to the small, family-owned restaurant that served his favorite goulash.  They both ate heartily and shared
hot
apple strudel with raisins
and vanilla ice cream
for dessert. 
After their bellies were filled past the brim, they
walked through Salzburg to
their destination of Mozart’s birthplace.

The
Mozarts Geburtshaus
was a museum, just opened to the public a generation ago,
sitting
opposite a medieval gate leading to the bank of the river Salzach. 
“This is it,” Luke announced, “Nine
Getreidegasse
.  Look up to the third floor.  That’s where Mozart was born.”

Rebecca cupped her forehead with one palm, trying to block out the
blinding
midday sun,
and
looked to the third floor of the residence.  She could not believe that she was walking on the same ground as Mozart once had.  Together, Luke and Rebecca went inside, as he assumed the role of tour guide.

“This was the violin Mozart played as a child.” Luke explained, as they looked through the glass at
one of the many displays
.  “And this was his c
lavichord. A
nd
here,
his pianoforte.”

Rebecca listened intently, feeling as though she were r
eceiving a valuable
education.  Having been home schooled by her grandmother, she never had the opportunity to
enjoy
such a tangible learning experience, and it
thrilled her.  Luke
continued along, showing Rebecca the multiple Mozart family portraits that adorned the walls as well as letters written in old-fashioned penmanship.

“I’ve never been anywhere steeped in so much history.” Rebecca murmured, wishing she could hold one of the musical instruments in her hands.

“I know what you mean. 
I never want to leave.” Luke concurred with a grave timber to his voice that made Rebecca curious.

“Are you saying that you never want to leave Austria-Hungary and return to Wisconsin?”

“That’s correct.  Never.  Do you want to go back to Michigan?” He asked, suddenly concerned that Rebecca
could
be just passing through Vienna and might flee if a singing career didn’t
immediately
flourish
.

Rebecca bit her lower lip thoughtfully, remembering how she
had
felt the night she and Ryan boarded the midnight train to New York.  She had harbored no intention of ever returning to Michigan, wanting to l
eave her
pain
in the dust.

“No, I don’t want to go back to Michigan.” She said decisively, as Luke’s face visibly relaxed.

“So I suppose we’re a couple of expatriates walking on foreign soil.” He grinned.

“Well, I wouldn’t call myself an expatriate.  That has a negative connotation.  I love the United States, but there are certain memories I would like to leave behind.” Rebecca corrected, as Luke looked up with interest.

“I suppose that’s something else we share in common.  Wisconsin is nothing but a pot of
cheerless
memories mixed up into a bitter tasting goulash.” He made light of his sadness, as Rebecca laughed.  “I
did always love the
snowy winters there,
though, and
fortunately, being situated in the Alps,
white winters are
one thing I don’t have to be homesick for.”

Rebecca
felt
that he was on the verge of telling her something monumental about his childhood, and she yearned to do the same.  “Ladies first.” He seemed to read her thoughts.  “Tell me why Michigan is a bittersweet place for you.”

“I suppose for many reasons it is a bittersweet place, but the primary one is that my parents died when I was just five years old.”

“
How awful. 
I’m
so
sorry.” Luke condoled.

“Thank you.  I ha
ve only shadowy memories of my parents
, but I know that
losing
them altered the course of my life.  I was left in my grandmother Gloria’s care.  She’s a wonderful woman and treated me as her own daughter.  But since she
is a widow, she’s
subject to the authority of the eldest male in the house, my brother Gregory.”

“Is he still in Michigan?”

“Yes, he and his wife Ethel have a baby girl there. 
Annabelle
was the light of my life before I came here. 
But
Gregory is a very envious sort of person and never wanted to see my musical talents grow.  He couldn’t carry a tune nor could he read a note of music if
a brigand
were dangling him from the Golden Gate Bridge
telling him his life depended upon it
!”

Luke laughed heartily at Rebecca’s depiction of Gregory.

“Well, his wife isn’t any nicer.
” She continued.
 
“
I’m not even sure if they were a love match because our fathers were good friends and there was talk from the time they were little that they would one day marry.  It seemed more of a convenient arrangement than a love story. 
Gregory and Ethel would constantly foist their daughter on me, as though I were their indentured servant.  I adore the girl, don’t misunderstand, but it was a very restrictive life for me. 
Their domestic dictatorship
all but
drove me out of our house in Grand Rapids.  But more than that, it was my desire to see another part of the world and try to make singing a profession.  So, here I am.” Rebecca smiled ruefully, contemplating how her fanciful expectations of life in Vienna had toppled over nearly the moment she arrived.

“Well, I’m very glad you’re here.  The winds of fate have transported you to where I am, and it’s
precisely
where you belong.” Luke spoke with a profound intimacy and
molten
intensity that
unnerved
Rebecca.  She looked searchingly into his warm brown eyes, wondering what other passionate thoughts
simmered
beneath the surface.

“Tell me about your childhood in Wisconsin.” She prompted, eager to
hear his life story
.

Luke took a long, steadying breath and began. 
“My childhood began rather idyllically
, I suppose
. 
My father was a dairy farmer, and my mother a wonderful homemaker.
My parents were very much in love, and when she died in childbirth with my youngest brother,
Dad
was destroyed.”

“Oh my,
I am so sorry
you lost your mother as well.  How old were you?”

“Not much older than you were when your parents passed on.  I was just six. 
My father sank into a depression from which he has never fully emerged.  He hasn’t even remarried.  Many of my mother’s belongings are still scattered around the house, like a
sort of shrine to her.  It’s really quite eerie.  Like you, my memories of my mother are hazy
, but I know she was a good woman.”

“I am sure she was.” Rebecca said softly.  “Did you leave Wisconsin because you couldn’t stand the
sadness
anymore?”

Luke’s mouth turned cynical, an emotion she had never seen on his face.  “No.  I left because of a fight with my brother Jonathan. 
It
happened
four years ago
just before
I was about to compete in the Olympics in Greece.”

Rebecca could not resist interjecting to exclaim, “The Olympics!  You mean you’re an athlete?”
That would explain his powerful physique.