If he was devastated before, at this moment he was completely destroyed, taking her promise as an oath. She was always a woman who said what she meant and meant what she said. It was one of the great qualities he loved about her. But now, he knew the bedroom door would be closed forever. “You have no idea, nor will you ever be able to understand, how utterly ashamed and sorry I am. If there were only one thing on this earth to ease the pain I have caused you, you know I would do it.”
“What a pleasant surprise, Philip! I already doubted your conscience, as most philanderers are completely devoid of it,” she sighed sadly. “Therefore, the Reinhardts’ upbringing and example may have paid off after all! You stated just minutes ago that their patriarchs were always the best example of morality,” she mocked.
“True, Victoria. But the last of the Reinhardts was Otto and he died in 1850. His only daughter, Christina, was murdered by a von Walden and his lover. After that, the branches of Count von Dorn took over, better known as the ‘Casanovas of Vienna’,” he lamented. “Someday you will have a chance to read all our well-kept diaries. While their lowdown behavior never affected his son, my grandfather Karl, nor his daughter Verena, my mother,” he gulped. “Alex was a problem until his injury in 1866, and God only knows, if I inherited their low morals, we were sure Alex had inherited General von Dorn’s fanaticism about the military. I may be cursed with everything wrong there is to inherit. How else can I explain to myself that I am capable of so deeply hurting my wife?” he said, almost teary-eyed. “The only woman I have truly loved. And that statement I, too, swear on the life of my dear children.”
For some inexplicable reason she wanted to believe him. Once more he was taking both of her hands in his and asking to be forgiven, waiting for Victoria to say at least one kind word, but she never did. It was quiet like a grave for quite some time before he jumped up and burst out with an idea.
“I am going to see Father Christopher.”
“At this hour?” she asked, completely dumbfounded.
“Yes, Victoria, now! I am finally ready to confess my sins. As a priest and uncle, he will be glad to see me at any hour. Aside from that, he has to set me straight on a few things. I never bothered to pay any attention when he told me constantly, and right to my face, that I am a ‘narcissist,’ as was his favorite verdict about everyone I kept company with. I also want to get to know myself. I am determined to start over, Victoria,” he insisted with his ever-present charm and engaging smile, taking spontaneously her shoulders in his arms.
“Victoria, my dear, dear wife. I love you with all my heart.”
“I know, Philip. It just beats in a different rhythm. Yours seems to skip a beat now and then, while mine throbs steadily. I guess it’s the German version of it, or perhaps it’s just us von Wintersbergs,” she said with a sad smile.
“We’ll talk some more about it,” he promised, when both heard the main entrance door slam, knowing immediately it was none other than Anette in a bad mood.
“I think we came a long way for one night, my dearest,” he said hastily, giving her a kiss on both cheeks and wishing her a happy New Year.
“Happy New Year!” Anette shouted. “I hope that goes for me too, Philip, as I came a longer way than you,” she said, having no idea what had taken place. She only overheard the ‘long way’ part of their conversation. “Happy New Year, Victoria!” she blurted out again.
“What about me?” Philip jested.
“We must have wished each other one at least ten times at the Esslers’ party. You know what time it is, Philip?” she added surprised, noticing that he was ready to leave.
He tried to avoid her questions and replied instead, “What was your ‘long way’ about, Anette?”
“Never mind, Philip. I wish I had taken Lillian’s advice and spent the night at their place. But I asked one of their friends to bring me here as it was on their way. And what did they do? They dropped me off near the Burg Theater, suggesting a long walk would do me good. I guess they thought I drank too much.” With her oversized beige fur hat remaining crooked on her head and her dark rouge smeared all over her face, she was quite a sight to behold. It caused Philip and Victoria to look at each other and laugh. “Those drunken men and women still on the street!” she remembered sharply in disgust, when Philip politely interrupted her with a loving wink towards Victoria.
“Tell my wife all about it, Anette. I am going to see Franz-Xavier.”
“Don’t tell me you start the New Year better than you left the old, Philip.”
“I plan to. And I hope you do too, dear Anette,” he said truthfully, but he couldn’t help wondering if she was aware of his many infidelities too. “Well, at least Victoria and I parted without hatred. It’s much better than I deserve,” he thought to himself, hoping that one of these days her bedroom door would again be opened. But first he had to awaken her feelings for him again, and that would not be an easy task!
“Victoria,” Anette said wistfully while throwing herself on a very large chair. “some men, drunk or sober, are nothing more than swine!”
“Roosters,” Victoria corrected, walking towards the small kitchen to make a strong cup of coffee for her.
“What makes you say that?” Anette questioned, and tried to get up again in order to follow her into the kitchen.
“Because swine have a mating season and men and roosters have none. Just think about it!”
“Hmm… alright, then that old Gregory von Hagen is a ‘piggish rooster’,” she laughed heartily and was joined by Victoria. “He propositioned me tonight! Fancy that! Me, an old bat! No, hen,” she corrected, laughing even louder.
The usually reserved Anette, who never even gave answers unless pushed to the limit, acted the very opposite when she drank even slightly over her limit, no matter what kind of alcoholic beverage. But tonight, she was in rare form, and Victoria was certain old Hagen’s behavior was in every way responsible. It may have caused her to feel downright cheap. He was a well-known widower with a roving eye for any female and one always heard his boasting about his late wife’s tolerance and her special talent in the bedroom. ‘A lady by day . . . and a little whore by night.’ But it’s the nights he needed most. Doubtlessly, poor Anette was aware of his vulgar remarks, as they attended the same social gatherings at the Esslers’, and it was the only family who invited this man out of sheer pity.
“Here, Anette. It’s very hot so drink it slowly. I pride myself in making the best and strongest coffee for special occasions,” she said, pouring herself a cup too. “I am not ready for bed either.”
“Good… very good,” she stated grandly and gratefully. “I have to talk to you about many things, Victoria.”
“Alright, but promise you will forget about the old Hagen. By the time he wakes up with the usual hangover, he won’t remember the first thing he said to you.”
“I hope he doesn’t. Imagine, a man like him almost drooling down my neck and whispering he has a love nest in one of those palatial apartments with a mirrored ceiling, and performs still like a tiger. It’s so humiliating,” she sobbed, still furious.
“Calm down, Anette. He is not worthy of your anger, especially now, since you and I agree that the majority of men are piggish roosters.”
“Pigs would be more like it for men like him, as roosters have to be more spry.” She chuckled, but turned quickly serious, aghast at Victoria’s full agreement on such personal matters. Curiosity took hold of her when she asked cautiously, “Have you ever been in a situation like that before? I mean, with you being so very beautiful. Wherever and whenever you enter a place, all heads turn. It must be heaven on earth! We are all so envious, which is only natural.”
“Don’t ever envy me… or anyone else for that matter, Anette.” She sighed kindly but was not ready to discuss Philip. This conversation was not anticipated, and she preferred to talk about it some other time. “And as for any propositions, I was never left alone. I went from my parent’s home to the Kronthalers’
. Father even insisted that all private schools had to be in the same town where we lived. Oh, yes. I almost forgot to mention my engagement of a few months to a very fine German officer.”
“What happened?” Anette interrupted, burning with desire to know more about it.
“He died in a hunting accident. It still hurts to think about it. I’ll tell you more about it some other time,” she promised after noticing that Anette’s facial expression had turned grim instantly. She was not sure if she wouldn’t connect him with Alex’s fate. After all, a bullet was a bullet. One lives, the other dies. “As I was saying, Anette, I went from my parents’ to the Kronthalers’,” she sighed. “followed by a short stay with your family, Kurt and Lillian, and on to Philip. And wherever our social gatherings take us, he is always at my side.”
“Because he is so proud of you. It shows all over his face.”
“Until this face shows wrinkles, Anette? I am not easily fooled. Philip, I’m sorry to say, thrives on beauty and youth. Believe it or not, despite his good looks and money, he is very insecure. He needs constant reassurance to boost his self-esteem. Father Christopher warned me about his shortcomings during my religious conversion before I married him. The trouble with me is,” Victoria confessed with a sigh. “I love him so much and will take what comes until it becomes unbearable. But I’ll cross that bridge when and if I ever get there. In the meantime, I have four children to think about. Maybe I am a better mother than wife. And there is still my health problem lingering with me. God only knows and time will tell, but I know I am a strong woman.”
Anette was now sober enough, though she was previously only slightly tipsy, to realize that not all was perfect in their much-envied marriage. And Victoria realized that she had said more than she planned to say.
Anette looked at her and muttered with empathy, “I was once told that there is a reason for everything in this world, but since Alex’s predicament, I stopped believing it,” she said with finality, pursuing Victoria’s circumstances, whatever they may be, no further.
But Victoria had an answer for her plight. “Don’t say that, Anette! Just think of all the good you did for your late fiancé. All those uncountable sacrifices,” Victoria assured her, feeling partly responsible for Anette’s fallen spirit.
“You are most kind, Victoria, and possibly the only person who believes that Alex’s love for me was real. We had planned to elope on his upcoming furlough,” she revealed with a mixture of pride and sadness.
“Didn’t you want a big wedding?
“God, no! We both had grown up together and hated our family life. I am not sure why, but Alex put on only an act at Verena’s and Lillian’s double wedding to sort of give a good impression. My father took credit for that somehow. I was told Clarissa von Walden was after him. Imagine the embarrassment on a day like that!” she said, rummaging through her oversized purse. “This purse was Alex’s last gift to me from Italy. Feel that fine leather, Victoria,” she added, though it was worn out.
“Beautiful… really beautiful,” Victoria replied, stroking the bag with tenderness.
“Whenever you feel up to it, I’ll let you read all his letters to me. So far, I have never allowed anyone to touch them,” she verified sternly, holding a bundle of crumbled and tear-stained papers, which after all those years had turned yellow.
“Anette, my dear friend,” Victoria replied, deeply touched at the unusual offer. “You and I are made of the same mold.”
Anette sat right up, straight like a judge, extremely elated by the comparison. “In which way?” she asked, her usually colorless eyes beginning to sparkle.
“We both are capable of loving our men unconditionally, even if they weren’t worthy of us!”
“But Alex was! Oh, God was he ever!” she interrupted in a hurry.
“Of course, he was!” Victoria assured her. “I was just making a statement in general as I am very observant. And as an afterthought, my dear Anette, love is as mysterious as the world we live in. So far, no one has figured out why anyone falls in love, as well as why we fall out of love,” she concluded.
“And we shall never know, which is probably a good thing.” Anette sighed like an authority. “But there is also such a thing as an obligatory love. For example, the love of a parent towards his innocent child who hadn’t asked to be born.
“I couldn’t agree with you more,” Victoria said, thinking of her poor brother, Oscar.
“I was not wanted by either of my parents, and I made them suffer once I knew how to get the best of my father,” Anette gloated with satisfaction, still feeling his wrath. She omitted, however, her mother’s many interests, including her very heavy drinking binges.
“So did my brother, Oscar, until he died. And even after his death, my father was still embarrassed about having fathered a son like him. But that is another story. Enough said for one night. I hope I didn’t upset you along the way, Anette.”
“Oh, no, on the contrary. I desperately needed someone to talk to. After being so rudely and wordlessly dropped off with a long distance to walk, I had time to think about my future and contemplated once more on entering a convent. That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. Yesterday I felt completely different about myself. Today I am down and out. That’s why I came to you for advice . . . but somehow, we got sidetracked.” She smiled sheepishly.
“Good thing we did. I, too, needed someone to talk to, Anette. And I dare you now or at any other time to talk to me about a convent or leaving me. Aside from being my best friend and confidante, we have to finish our life stories!” Victoria stated.
“And to read all the letters my dear Alex wrote to me,” she smiled, relieved to be wanted by a woman she admired and loved.
“That too, of course. But how about my dear children? How could I possibly explain to Gisela that her godmother entered a convent?”
“Many nuns are godmothers,” she intercepted hastily.
“Not the one I have chosen for my daughter,” Victoria beamed cheerfully, embracing her with one arm, and with the other, placing Anette’s still disheveled hat on her hair. “Now have a good night’s rest and let’s pray for a good and healthy New Year, which is another thing I will be in dire need of,” Victoria said, putting her finger on Anette’s lips. “Don’t even try to contradict me with your notions to enter a convent. I hope you understand that I need you, Anette. It may sound selfish but it is the truth.”
“Alright, alright. I’ll stay. But next year we will have our own New Year’s party. And it will be an event which will put all previous ones in the shadows and that includes the Esslers’ too.”
“Without Gregory von Hagen.” Victoria laughed.
“You can bet on that one,” Anette beamed in delight. “And I will pay for the whole thing. What else would I do with all my gold coins?”
“And that from a woman who wanted to enter a convent just a few hours ago!” Victoria continued to laugh.
“It’s hard to find the right road once your loved one is gone. Without Alex, my life had lost all its purpose.” After a few more words of comfort, Anette entered her room. “The clock’s striking four! What a day,” she mumbled to herself and lay, still fully clothed, on her bed and fell asleep.
Victoria went in the kitchen, this time to heat some milk with honey to help her relax and possibly to get a few hours of rest. “The only worthy improvement from the Auersbachs living here. Every floor has been furnished with a small kitchen of its own,” she thought, wondering about Philip’s whereabouts. “A confession of almost three hours?” She smiled to herself. “Unless he is putting his whole life of late in front of Franz-Xavier.” And of course there were other possibilities.
31
“I knew it! I knew it! I expected something like this all along. It was only a question of time,” Father Christopher bellowed in fury after Philip began to relieve his burdened conscience. Since the priest never even had a chance to rest or sleep, he seemed very exhausted and livid for more than one r
eason. First, the ear-splitting noise of the night-long celebration which had started much earlier this year, doubtless the beginning of a new century being the main reason. Then, a policeman had called on him to give a poor woman the last rites. She was apparently dying of hunger, while five little children cried their hearts out. The oldest boy who sobbed the loudest said their father was still dancing in the next street, while a girl complained the many mice and rats had eaten their last morsel of bread. He had rushed to his parish and brought back some food. Their living quarters consisted of one damp room in a cellar of a run-down tenement, which had gone up along with many others when Vienna had made its entrance into the industrial age. Like so many of their contemporaries, they had left their rural life for a supposedly better one in the big city. At the former place they had at least had enough to eat. The equally tired policeman offered the priest safe passage back to his church, not trusting the unpredictable drunkards filling the streets.
Even the doctors stayed away, fearing to end up worse than all the carousing boozers who were mostly in need of a few stitches or a bandage. The city’s poorest districts were out of control by now, and the jails were unable to accommodate any more ruffians who didn’t even remember their own names. And there stood Philip, all decked out still in his black tuxedo and fur-lined overcoat, having taken all safe streets so well known in a rich district, waiting for him, disregarding the time, to relieve his burden of accumulated sins.
“I came to you to confess, not be scolded like a schoolboy,” he retorted, taken completely by surprise, as the usually calm priest showed a side Philip had never known or suspected.
“Schoolboy would suit me at the moment just fine. Then I could put you over my knees and paddle you without mercy. And I am not talking to you as a priest. Far from it, Philip, because then I would be required to give you absolution after having lent a sympathetic ear, as you, of course, expect nothing less than complete understanding from a poor aging priest. But I am talking to you as your Uncle Franz-Xavier, the man who is able to tell you now, exactly how I have felt about you for let’s say the last fifteen years,” he screamed in a rage.
Yesterday Was Long Ago: Part One Page 50
