“Coda,” she said. “Isn’t that the word for when you’ve come to one ending, but it’s not the real ending, so you get to have another one?”
I laughed. “Close enough, I guess,” I said. “Why?”
Olivia pulled herself up on one elbow, kissed me, and grinned. “You really have to ask?”
Not anymore I didn’t, and the music began all over again. The concert wasn’t over until the sun crept in the window and reminded us that time wasn’t standing still after all.
•••
After breakfast, which we enjoyed while wrapped in fluffy white hotel bathrobes, we made a few plans. Olivia called the Plaza, checked her messages, and arranged for her luggage to be transferred to the Warwick.
“They’ve ‘wrapped’ the movie, Teddy,” she said when she hung up. “Looks like I really am free. But I’ll keep my suite at the Plaza as planned, until Sunday.” She turned her green eyes on me and smiled. “Of course, if anyone really wants to find me, they’ll have to look a little further.”
Wonderful! I had nothing scheduled in Boston until the following Monday.
“Snow days,” Olivia said. “Unexpected days off. They’re better than finding a bag of money in the park.”
Especially when there’s no snow in sight, I thought. It was springtime in New York, and I had three days to spend with the woman I loved doing nothing but loving her more.
Olivia moved from the telephone to the sofa beside me. She stroked my hair and kissed me on the cheek. “It’s your turn now, Teddy,” she said. I smiled and kissed her back.
“No, I mean your turn to talk. You know about me and Teddie and Jay. What’s happened in your life since the curtain came down on Camelot? Beyond the violin, I mean.”
I knew what she was asking, and she had a perfect right. We were lovers now, both curious about what the future might hold.
“There’s not much beyond the violin, Olivia,” I said. “Sometimes I feel as though I’m married to it.”
Olivia was silent, waiting for me to continue.
“My last year of college, I had a girlfriend, another violinist. It was a relationship of convenience, and it ended when we graduated. Then, when I first moved to Europe, I kind of fell together with another American, an oboe player from Baltimore. That lasted until she got a job in Chicago.”
I paused, unsure of what to say about Valeria.
“There was one woman,” I began at last. “An Italian soprano. We almost got married.”
“What happened?”
I gazed at Olivia. “I could say she found another guy,” I said, “but it was really my fault. At the time, I didn’t know what kept me from making a commitment to her, but now—” I looked at Olivia. “I wanted her to be you.”
“I never stopped loving you, Teddy,” Olivia said. We were silent a moment.
“Jay was okay, though, at least at first,” Olivia finally continued. “And he was a terrific manager. I just never felt about him the way I do about you. I kept telling myself that you were just a fairy tale, and I was just a child. I never completely convinced myself, but I did develop a kind of numbness.”
Numbness. Without even knowing it, I’d cultivated the feeling myself. Until now, it had actually seemed normal to live my life in a half-dead state. Until now, when I could reach out and touch the face I had pretended to forget.
We never got past the bathrobe stage that day, never set foot outside the room. For the first time in nearly thirty years, I let a whole day go by without opening my violin case.
Chapter 23
Thinking about that other violin case makes me look again at the one sitting near me on the coffee table. I’ve closed the lid on the magnificent instrument it contains, but I can’t close my heart. I know the price of numbness now, and it’s more than I can pay. I’d rather weep than feel nothing. I’d rather suffer the pain than deny the truth that Olivia is lost to me again.
It’s autumn in New York right now, but the whole world was engulfed in springtime those three idyllic days I spent with Olivia. The second day, we played tourist, a luxury I hadn’t experienced since the days I’d spent with Albert van Doren when I came to New York for my audition at Juilliard. And Olivia had never had the opportunity at all, even though she had visited Manhattan a number of times.
“I’ve always been at the mercy of schedules and handlers,” Olivia said. “I’ve never had the chance to ‘trip the light fantastic,’ and I’ve always wanted to ride on a New York subway.”
Olivia tucked her hair inside a Yankees baseball cap and put on a pair of oversized sunglasses. Just to be on the safe side, I, too, wore dark glasses, but it was obvious after we took a cruise around Manhattan on the Circle Line that our anonymity was ensured. Nobody gave a damn about a pair of thirty-something lovebirds, even if one of them was carrying a violin.
It seemed obvious to both of us that our lives together had begun, that we were on a kind of advance honeymoon. Time and fate—and probably even our parents—were on our side at last, and it seemed as though nothing could divert us from “happily ever after.” The only delay would be Olivia’s divorce.
“The process has already begun,” she explained over a glass of wine. We were sitting in the bar at The River Café, and the lights had just come up on the Brooklyn Bridge. “Jay and I have settled just about everything, even Teddie. We’ve agreed that she should continue living with me, and Jay will visit as often as he likes. Things won’t be much different than they are now. He’s a busy guy.” Olivia stopped talking, thought a moment, and spoke again. “Teddie’s going to love you, Teddy.”
We both laughed at how silly it sounded, but even while I was still smiling, a hint of worry crept into my mind. What if Teddie didn’t love me? What if she hated me? I looked at Olivia, and she already knew what I was thinking.
“It may take a while, Ted,” she said. “But she will love you. You don’t have to worry about that.”
“How can you be so sure?” I said. “I can’t even imagine what it’s like to get a replacement father, just like that.”
“You won’t be a replacement,” Olivia said, taking my hand and patting it. “You’ll be an addition.” She paused, and I gazed into her eyes while she chose her next words.
“Teddie is lucky,” she said at last. “She’ll have two dads.” She paused and squeezed my hand. “It’ll make up for the fact that I had none.”
I smiled, realizing I was hearing the story she’d tell Teddie, and I was grateful that it comforted me as much as I believed it would please my new stepdaughter. No one was getting squeezed out, and if we were lucky, Jay would think so, too.
“It seems to me,” Olivia went on, “that the question of where we’ll live is a much more complicated issue. I really don’t have the option of leaving L.A.—”
“No!” I said quickly. “It’s simple! I’ve needed an excuse to leave the Vienna Phil for years now. I’ve been working on building a solo career, and I’m ready to take the final step. I can live anywhere, Olivia. Los Angeles is perfect. Do you know how happy it will make my mother?”
Olivia laughed. “I know how happy it will make me,” she said.
And as we sat there, holding hands and looking out over that marvelously iconic skyline, I truly felt as though the gods were smiling on us.
But wait! Hadn’t I felt like this before? A cloud passed in front of my blue-sky daydream as I remembered how my feelings had soared in those giddy weeks before Camelot. Could something go wrong this time, too? But I looked again at Olivia’s happy face, and my anxiety vanished. We are older now, I told myself, no longer two idealistic children. We haven’t set our hopes any higher than our love can carry us. Life always has its challenges, I knew, but now that we were together again, the challenges we faced seemed almost inconsequential.
The third day, we went to the Museum of Modern Art, but we were too wrappe
d up in each other to pay proper attention to its treasures. Our impending separation intensified our conversations and, later, our lovemaking. We lay awake in each other’s arms until dawn, and never in my life has a rising sun been more unwelcome.
Was a wiser part of me aware even then that our passionately laid plans might come to naught? At the time, I thought it was only ordinary sadness that my perfect sojourn with Olivia was drawing to a close. Now, though, I wonder if I didn’t know, somewhere in the depths of my consciousness, that a storm was lurking just beyond the tranquil horizon.
On Sunday morning, a bellman arrived for Olivia’s luggage while we were still lingering over our coffee. Half an hour later, I accompanied her down to the lobby, where a taxi was waiting to take her to the Plaza. Although it was only a few blocks away, we had decided against walking there together. After preserving her anonymity successfully for three days, we’d have been foolish to run the risk of exposure at the last minute.
“The media knows my schedule,” Olivia had explained. “When I leave for the airport, there won’t be a shortage of photographers on hand, and I wouldn’t put it past the determined ones to show up early and figure out who’s lurking behind these shades. They could unmask Batman if you gave them half a chance.”
Our good-bye was as short and abrupt as death by guillotine. One minute Olivia was standing next to me, and the next she was rolling up Avenue of the Americas in the back of a taxi. Suddenly I was alone again in New York City, unless you count the violin case I was clutching in my right hand.
Chapter 24
I began my season at Tanglewood with a happy confidence that Olivia and I would be together forever by Christmas. We talked on the phone almost daily. I’d call her each night before I went to bed, reaching her mid-evening. I never knew when she might call me, but I didn’t mind being awakened at odd hours. It was all temporary, all happy. Except for what appeared to be the usual kinds of legal snags, Olivia’s marriage seemed to be on a swift path to dissolution, and our long conversations confirmed what we had always known: We belonged together.
I called her the moment I heard the good news. “I’m coming to California,” I said. “I’ve been invited to perform in San Francisco, just before I return to Vienna. I’ll have a little over a week. We could—”
“God, Teddy,” interrupted Olivia. “You know I’d love to see you, but the timing couldn’t be worse. Jay is dragging his feet about our custody arrangement, and he’s raising some other issues, too. If he finds out about us—”
I understood, I said, and I performed in California without even visiting my parents. I kept on “understanding” as my conversations with Olivia focused less on our plans for the future and more on the unhappy union she was trying to escape.
By November, the divorce attorneys had succeeded in turning a civilized breakup into a battle royal, and one story about the ugly proceedings even made it into the International Herald Tribune. Jay was arrested for breaking into Olivia’s house and abducting Teddie. The charges were dropped, but Jay spent a night in jail.
Olivia suffered greatly through the ordeal. “It’s exactly what I didn’t want to happen,” she told me again and again. “I never should have listened to my attorney when he told me to change the locks on my house. But he said, ‘Do you have a key to Jay’s place?’ and like a fool, I let him whip up my emotions. Now Teddie has seen her father in handcuffs, and she’s having trouble in school, and—”
“I have to see you,” I said.
“Teddy, you know I can’t—”
I had nothing to say, and at last Olivia spoke again.
“Jay will be in Chicago with his parents over Thanksgiving,” she said quietly. “Maybe we could get together in New York again.”
“I’ll be there,” I said. I’ll take time off from the Phil, I told myself. In ten years, I’d never missed a performance, but Olivia was far more important than a perfect attendance record.
“We’ll have to be careful,” Olivia said. “I don’t want Jay to—”
“Don’t worry,” I said. “I’ll grow a beard and dye my hair blue. Or maybe I’ll wear a zoot suit, so everyone will think my violin case has a machine gun in it.”
At last Olivia laughed. “Oh, God, Ted,” she said. “It’ll be great to see you, and you can finally meet Teddie.”
As our plans developed, it turned out I’d be seeing Eleanor, too. She loved the idea of taking Teddie to the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade, and she reminded Olivia that her babysitting services would come in very handy. I couldn’t argue with the logic, but as the last weekend in November drew near, I found myself wishing I were meeting Olivia alone at the Plaza. I just didn’t feel prepared to face a whole new family.
Teddie scared me the most. I still worried that she might see me as an evil interloper, someone who was preventing her parents from getting back together. I had no experience with children even under the best of circumstances. Would I act the right way, say the right things? All I could think was that I should greet my stepdaughter-to-be with a really wonderful gift.
“She’s seven,” I told the salesclerk at a toy store in Vienna. The woman showed me dolls dressed in elaborate costumes, stuffed animals, and even a little toy piano. Everything was lovely, but I couldn’t decide. My present had to be perfect, and I had no idea what Teddie might like.
After the toy store failure, I thought about jewelry, and I almost bought a gold heart-shaped locket that reminded me of the one Olivia used to wear. What stopped me was the price. It was expensive, and even though I could easily afford it, I thought it would look like I was trying to buy my way into Teddie’s affections.
I racked my brain, and suddenly I remembered the photograph of Teddie that Olivia had shown me. She was wearing a leotard and tutu. My mind traveled instantly to a music box my mother used to keep on her dressing table. It was covered in velveteen and it stood on four little gold claw feet. When you lifted the top, a little ballerina popped up and twirled to a tinny rendition of “Für Elise.”
“My father gave me this when I was a little girl,” she used to tell me. “It was the best birthday present I ever got.”
It took a full day to find it, but the moment I saw it, I knew my search had been worth the effort. The box was finished in pale robin’s egg blue enamel and was topped with a delicate pair of gold ballet slippers. When I turned the key and raised the lid, a tiny porcelain ballerina pirouetted in front of a mirror to the “Dance of the Sugarplum Fairy.” The music box was nothing like the inexpensive child’s toy my mother had loved. This one was as beautiful as a Fabergé Easter egg, and it cost three times as much as the locket I’d deemed too expensive. I bought it immediately.
As perfect as it seemed to be, my gift for Teddie did little to settle my nerves as I counted the days until my trip to New York. What if she hated me on sight? What if I hated her? Eleanor worried me, too. It was encouraging that she had sent Olivia my ancient letter, but what if I didn’t measure up to her memories and expectations when she saw me after all these years? All the while wishing that I could have one more rendezvous with Olivia before I met my future mother-in-law, I decided I’d bring Eleanor the biggest Sachertorte money could buy. I thought it was a safe guess that Eleanor liked chocolate, and Vienna’s most popular pastry came in a special wooden box that made it look like a treasure.
Once I had presents for her mother and her daughter, I realized I needed something for Olivia herself. My first thought was to take her the same kind of champagne we’d had at Baccala the night of our reunion. When I realized that such a present would be as much for my own enjoyment as hers, I arranged to have roses waiting in her room instead.
None of these preparations took nearly enough time to keep me from fretting all through November. By the time I boarded my Lufthansa flight to Frankfurt and New York, I had imagined every possible scenario, including one that arrived in the form of a nightmare. I
dreamed that Jay appeared while we were eating Thanksgiving dinner, and right there in the restaurant, he pulled a gun. I woke up in a drenching sweat, my heart pounding fiercely. Guenevere needed Lancelot more than ever, but could Ted Spencer rise to the challenge?
Chapter 25
Only now am I willing to admit to myself that Olivia didn’t need a white knight to rescue her from her marriage any more than she had needed one to whisk her away from life in a housekeeper’s cottage back in high school. It’s just the story I’ve told myself all this time, a story that cast me not only as selfless and noble, but also as the perfect new stepfather, son-in-law, husband, and lover. Weren’t my carefully selected gifts irrefutable evidence?
•••
“It’s not enough.” That’s what Olivia said tonight when I told her the Merino Rose was far too large a gift for me to accept. “It’s not enough, but it’s what I have to give.”
It’s taken me fourteen years, Olivia, but at last I understand. Presents are only tokens, no matter how much you spend on them. The only reason I’m glad I have the Merino Rose is that you brought it here yourself. The only way it could ever make me happy is if you’d stayed.
•••
The bellman had just left my room when the telephone rang.
“Teddy! It’s me!”
“Olivia! Where are you?”
“Room 927. Why don’t you come on up?”
“I asked if you’d checked in when I got here, but—”
“I’m sorry. I should have told you I register under a phony name these days. I’ve been here since a little after one.” It was nearly seven now. My plane was half an hour late, and traffic had been a nightmare.
“I’ll be right there.”
The bellman had filled my ice bucket, and I took a few moments to dig the bottle of Veuve Clicquot out of my bag and start it chilling. Then I picked up my violin and headed for the ninth floor.
When Olivia opened the door, she was holding the telephone receiver up to her ear. I set my violin case on the dresser and slipped off my leather jacket as she finished her conversation.
Strings Page 12
