“Otto and I were not only taken by complete surprise, but also shocked beyond belief, when—”
“Well, let's be objective, Stephany. Once in a while, even the very rich get their unpleasant surprises!” interrupted Claudia grimly, adding, “You should have both expected it! After all, he was in his seventies!”
“That's what I've been saying all along, considering that the average age of those of us less fortunate is only around fifty, if that!” her husband answered coldly.
“Which again proves one thing! If you have plenty of money, you can buy your health to reach a ripe old age!” Amanda looked for approval from all present, and was pleased to notice her husband's delighted expression in answer to her cynical comment.
“Our dear, dear Grandpapa!” Stephany, now even more in tears, extended her hand to Rita, so far the only one showing a sorrowful face. She had come with her unapproachable husband Robert and their three repulsive children to pay their respect.
“I hope we won't catch a cold!” Rita's oldest son said bluntly, glancing at Stephany, who, taking Otto's advice, forced herself not to take notice of all their cruel comments. “Today would have been the day Grandpapa wanted to meet with a Professor to discuss our daughter's art lessons! He was so looking forward to it!”
Is that a fact?” Stephany heard someone ask in a playful voice.
“I bet!” hissed Claudia's husband and finally added, “I was always under the impression that his only interests and admiration went more toward things of substance, not art! For instance, owning a lot of land, banks, and buildings!”
“Not to forget the castle, Uncle!” A nephew smiled sarcastically.
“Above all, Papa was an architect!” interrupted Stephany, finally getting perturbed and showing a reprimanding, resentful face.
“Well, don't blame us for our justified ignorance! We haven't seen him in so many years!” Rita said somewhat uneasy. “We were always puzzled as to why we couldn't have a more understanding relationship with him. God only knows how hard we've tried!” she concluded pontifically.
“By the way, how is his grandson?” mused Daniel, trying to change the subject.
“Our son Karl is holding up very well! He is trying very hard to comfort Christina!”
“Christina who?”
“His sister, of course. Don't you even remember their names?”
“How and why should we, Stephany? We were never included in any of the Reinhardt family affairs,” Gustav informed her flatly.
“We only found out from our friends how much he favored his grandson, which is a mystery in itself!” his wife smirked.
“He loved both of his grandchildren equally. Maybe he could relate better to a boy! What is so unusual about that?” Otto replied sternly, trying to put an end to his wife's ordeal, as she was already, sadly, trying to leave the scene.
He knew he would not fare any better himself in their idle and ominous chit-chat and mingled, therefore, mostly with the servants, who at least showed their genuine grief. The weather was getting worse and he had to urge Papa's faithful old servant to leave immediately.
“Well, well, well! So Uncle Albert is dead. Now what, Cousin?” Daniel looked expectantly at Otto, neither showing grief nor remorse.
“We shall see!” Otto smiled at him.
“I do want to thank you all so much for coming! Especially on a cold day like today.” Stephany said unconvincingly as she returned.
“Why do I have the distinct feeling that we shall see each other real soon again?” teased Otto, eyeing them curiously and linking his arm into Stephany's. “Let's go home, dearest. Our children are waiting,” he ordered fondly, leaving their stunned and shivering relatives to fend for themselves for suitable transportation.
“This is only the beginning of my kindness!” he cautioned with a wink at his wife and the waiting coachman. “Much more will follow, I'm afraid!”
“I feel so uncomfortable, not to have them asked to come home to have a meal with us! But it was just about all I could manage to keep from losing my temper!”
“Stephany, I am so proud of you, the way you faced their affronts! From time to time, I glanced in your direction hoping we would both get through this funeral without any great scenes. Now you probably understand better why we stayed away from them so much. And as for not inviting them, forget that custom. Papa would have turned over in his grave, had we invited them!” he replied, satisfied.
“Looking at it from this angle, I must agree with you. And Otto,” She pressed his arm tightly, “I, for one, have always understood Papa! I never once questioned his decisions or his good judgment, which have always seemed perfect, and not only to me. Now I'll have only to face the problem of his not being around any longer. I shall miss him so much— his loving ways and embracing nature, his constant teasing for instance, and his hugs!” she said, her eyes filling with tears.
He smiled gratefully, caressing her cheeks. “That man loved you so much! So very, very much!” He took a deep breath, “And I.... it's up to me now to make all those changes alone. Drastic ones at that. Wait until you see that greedy bunch of vultures at the lawyer’s office!”
“Do you think they will be there?”
“Oh, of course! There’s no doubt about that,” he answered with a sigh.
“How foolish of them to behave so badly. Their distasteful remarks concerning Papa's wealth and their own so-called impoverished lifestyle really got me upset!” she said scornfully.
“As of today, they will have to learn to live with a lot less. And it will be my greatest pleasure that ‘my will’ shall be executed! Of course, we shall have so much more than we will be able to use up in ten lifetimes, so there will be many changes for us as well.”
“Anything you decide is fine with me.” She sighed gratefully. “Now my family will have only you to call Croesus, however fondly and in jest, but secretly meaning every word of it!”
“I remember it well, and Papa and I thought it rather cute, but of course highly exaggerated.” Otto laughed.
“And to think that I had the audacity to enter your palace with only a worn-out suitcase!”
“Don't ever let me hear you say such a foolish thing again!” he demanded.
“So sorry, my Dearest! I'll have to change to be more self-assured.”
“That sounds much better already.”
“After all, I did bring four monogrammed pillowcases into this marriage,” she giggled.
“That's right, now that I think about it. Whatever happened to the matching sheets?” he chuckled, pulling her closer. “This may sound insane, dearest, but even on a sad and trying day like this, I still feel as if we still were on our honeymoon!”
“I hope you do, Otto! It was when I made a promise to you, and I never tire of hearing about it.”
“Neither do I,” he answered contentedly. “God blessed me so very much...so undeservingly much.”
“All of us, Otto.” She kissed him gently and put her head on his shoulder, reminiscing over their very first encounter in 1808. It seemed like yesterday, and yet, it had been so long ago.
If ever there were such a thing as that called a love made in heaven, Otto and Stephany Reinhardt would certainly qualify. As different as their backgrounds had been, it had never interfered with their boundless love for each other.
∼
Otto, who had been a bachelor at the age of thirty-two, was a rather largely built, courtly, and dark-haired man with a nondescript face, except for an inbred trace of arrogance. Like his father Albert, he had a very authoritative and commanding voice, which he used very articulately, and both men were unanimously referred to as ‘The Reinhardts of the Silver-tongue'. Nevertheless, they used their position of power very judiciously. However, once applied, it was irrevocable.
To Albert, Otto was the absolute perfect son, and he never tired of lecturing his less fortunate friends on the topic of child rearing. His own marriage to a very beautiful, though egocentric and vain, fort
une hunter who had claimed to be of noble ancestry, failed after three years of an unhappy alliance. He had discovered much too late her secret passion for gambling and other men. Thus, her departure had been as sudden as her arrival in Vienna's dubious social circles. When, years later, a letter from Rome arrived announcing the annulment of the marriage, he had tossed it impulsively and with a smile of relief into the fireplace and watched it burn. It was a chapter closed in his life, never to be reopened again.
Already disillusioned with his wife by the time of Otto’s birth, he had lavished all his love, time, and whatever it took in money to raise, guide, and advise his son. Otto, in turn, was the most gratifying child to him, who never, even in later years, gave any indication of missing his mother, since he couldn't remember ever knowing her.
“Take the boy to his father!” was her constant suggestion when his nanny would occasionally present Otto to her, earning her quite a few choice names among the household's staff. After her disappearance had become known, they had prayed a few extra ‘Hail Mary’s’ and promised Albert Reinhardt to replace Otto's mother with all the love and mothering experience they had. Albert had chuckled. “That should be an easy task for you!” he said, thinking of all their own children they had raised. “However, I forbid anyone of you to talk to my son about his mother. Never, ever!”
As far as Otto was concerned, he had been told that she had died in giving birth to him.
∼
Stephany Cerny had entered the Reinhardt household at the age of eighteen. She had been highly recommended by none other than her doting aunt Bertha, who was not only one of the many servants of long and good standing, but also an excellent pastry cook, something both Albert and Otto valued very highly. When the head mistress had finally laid all rumors to rest and confirmed that the Reinhardts were indeed looking for a skilled woman to do the embroideries on the newly arriving linens, Bertha had not lost any time speaking in her niece's behalf.
“My lovely niece Stephany has an artist's talent and the patience of a saint! She would be perfect for this tedious work!”
“Just what we both need!” Albert had teased, winking at Otto and looking to him for approval. All decisions, no matter how trivial, were always being made by mutual consent.
“And when can she begin?” inquired Otto curiously.
“Almost immediately, Sir! She was very anxious to find work, as her mother—which is my sister—” she explained as though it mattered. “is desperate to find work in a refined household!”
“Why the hurry?”
“My sister has a large brood of girls for one thing, and Stephany is my favorite niece for another! And, most importantly, I as good as promised her the position, as soon as I heard the rumor!”
Both men smiled at the guilty look on Bertha's face. “So where is the girl now?” asked Otto.
“On her way to Vienna. Her coach arrives in two days from Prague.”
“What a tiresome journey! Let her rest a day or two after her arrival and then present her to Mrs. Fischer,” conceded Albert warmly.
“May I thank both of you gentlemen with all my heart!” Bertha bowed and added: “I am certain, you will never regret it!”
“We know that, Bertha. We just hope she'll have a few new pastry recipes for us. You know we never tire of sweets!”
“I have already asked her to bring all the newest along, Sir.”
“Well then,” Otto smiled, “that alone will make her welcome here!”
Stephany was so awestruck at the vast size and grandeur of the palace that she laid awake most of the night, as sleep and resting up were the remotest things from her mind, excited as she was. Her father, a self-educated postmaster and innkeeper, took his girls—time and money permitting—to various museums, while her mother instructed them in languages, manners, and art in order to enrich their knowledge of the finer things in life. But to be actually employed in such a place was a different matter altogether. Her room on the last upper floor was light and airy; very surprising, considering the damp and gloomy servant quarters in Prague. And the salary was most satisfactory. All in all, it was so much better than what she had envisioned, even though her aunt had written very informative letters about all its splendor. Of course, this had been somewhat overshadowed by the relaying of details necessary for undertaking such a long and risky journey, leaving all of her family behind.
“One is always treated kindly and justly. Never belittled by either gentleman, as one sees them rather infrequently. Both travel to their possessions a great deal, and if in residence, unless occupied with one project or another, they entertain lavishly or are asked for their presence in Vienna's highest society, including the Emperor's court! So I assure you, dearest Stephany, of an enjoyable employment in an unusual place, where you don't even have to endure a mistress's various moods and outbursts, a fact most of us servants can really appreciate!”
This letter was all that was needed for Stephany to pack her suitcase and leave her underpaid seamstress' job that did not offer any advancement. She knew that the future would probably bring her a prearranged marriage with a house full of undernourished children, and more likely than not, a husband who would drink excessively because of the misery, despair, and hopelessness of their lot in life. A common worker’s malady she herself was fortunate enough never to have experienced, though she was well aware of its existence.
She had finally fallen asleep, praying for her kind family, Aunt Bertha's stubborn insistence for her to come to Vienna, and her own future at the Reinhardt's household.
∼
Almost two months had passed since her arrival, and Stephany had only had glimpses of the huge oil paintings that portrayed the Reinhardts and their ancestors, and she secretly wondered what her benefactors really looked like. Not that it really mattered a great deal, but being a congenial young lady, she would have liked to thank either one of her new employers for her good fortune.
The servants too were a pleasure to be with, especially in comparison to the ones at her previous place of employment. She knew from her aunt that the Reinhardts detested quarrels among their servants and instigators were punished. There was always a friendly chat among the four seamstresses, or even a song or poem to make the day more pleasant and the long repetitious tasks seem shorter. Aunt Bertha and Stephany saw each other only at mealtime, but all their free evenings were spent together, mostly reading or discussing the day's events. Since the sewing room was rather remote from all the other activities of the house, she was more than happy to oblige her aunt's request to spend a few of her free hours in the kitchen. It was quite a different pace of work from her own where no one seemed to care as long as she would not be observed sitting around idle.
Just as she was contemplating all the noise, the hustling and bustling and the fidgeting the kitchen helpers had to contend with, she heard a friendly voice, inquiring very casually, “How are you coming along?” It was directed to the chief cook, adding apologetically, “Father and I hate this spur of the moment dinner ourselves, but we had no choice in the matter.”
“May we know how many guests you are expecting, Sir?” the chef urged.
“I don't have the vaguest idea. About four or five coaches, I guess.” Otto shrugged.
“Staying overnight, Mr. Reinhardt?”
“Heavens no! They've made the necessary arrangements for lodging in Baden. They love the spa more than they do our place and thank God for that! Father and I came across the letter last night. Somehow, it had been misplaced. But no matter. It's too late to think about it now and whose fault it is, though I shudder to think of their arrival with us being completely unprepared!” he concluded with a sigh, helping himself to a warm buttered croissant. “Bertha?” he asked, laying his arm around her hip, “What pleasant surprise is awaiting us tonight? That coconut almond cake was really delicious! Father and I had two helpings each!” He laughed amusedly, “And we went to the kitchen later to have some more, something we rarely do. We shall hav
e to thank your little niece one of these days for all those new recipes!”
“She's right over there, Sir! Just helping out for today,” Bertha answered quickly, knowing how anxious Stephany was to meet one of them.
Stephany turned around and apologized with a warm smile for her dough-covered hands and Otto could not remember ever having met or seen a more charming girl.
“So, you are the young lady from Prague,” he stated frankly.
While no one could dispute her lady-like behavior, it took all the surrounding kitchen staff by great surprise, most of all Stephany, who replied humbly, “I am your servant, Sir, embroidering linens.”
“I know that,” he retorted, slightly conceited, but gently. “It's still a lady's work. Servant or not is of very little consequence.” It was a statement made in his usual tone of finality, never expecting her reply.
“I'd like to thank you for the fine employment, Sir. I am very content here,” she said carefully and a bit hesitantly. She had rehearsed those few suitable words ever since her arrival and was surprised that it went that well, since she felt quite uneasy and smitten by his dignified presence. ‘Those portraits did not do him any justice at all’, she thought to herself.
“Glad to hear it,” he said after a moment's pause, still amazed at her loveliness, modesty, and also the perfectly natural Austrian dialect in her speech, which was rarely mastered by Bohemians.
“How is it that you speak our dialect so well?”
“Mama is from Vienna.”
“Ah, well that explains it,” he said gaily and left.
∼
“Otto! I ask you now for the tenth time, how are things coming along in the kitchen?” demanded Albert impatiently, not used to being ignored.
“Just great!” Otto laughed out loud.
“What are you laughing about?”
“You'll never believe it.”
“Give me a try, son. Unless you'd rather not.”
“Alright father, here it comes, but you'd better sit. I just met the prettiest, sweetest, and most delightful young lady, and I hope to God, she's not spoken for!”
Yesterday Was Long Ago: Part One Page 2
