XX Cadenza

The house lights came up. While the audience streamed out of the Festspielhaus into the plaza, the orchestra members packed up their instruments and sheet music, stagehands broke down the set, and singers removed costumes, wigs, makeup. Faithful admirers, dignitaries, colleagues, and patrons hurried backstage for the congratulatory visits, kisses, compliments.

Gregory Raspin was at the end of Katherina’s line. “You have surpassed yourself, Madame Marow. What I saw tonight was amazing and I am sure the reviews will reflect that. I will only say ‘brava’ and leave you to your evening. ” Then he stepped away to join the stage manager in some banter or other. He had not even brought up the contract.

Finally free of obligation, Katherina knocked on Anastasia’s dressing-room door. No one answered. Then she felt a hand on her shoulder. “Good work tonight. Best Sophie I’ve heard in years. ” Joachim von Hausen placed a paternal kiss somewhere near her right ear and moved on to Hans Stintzing’s dressing room.

She called after him. “Have you seen Anastasia? ”

“Yes, she left right after the curtain. Exhausted, I’m sure. She’s in every scene, after all, ” he said over his shoulder.

Detlev passed him, looking like a ventriloquist, with wigs on both hands. A Marschallin puppet on his left, an Octavian puppet on his right.

“Bravissima, bella! ” he sang, and pecked at her cheek, birdlike. “You remember our Queen of the Night discussion? When we agreed that you should go home with the one with the sparkliest costume? ”

“Yes, of course. ”

He shot a conspiratorial glance toward Anastasia’s door. “Well, if you ask me, I think that one sparkled like a demon. ” Then, with swaying hips, he elbowed past her into the empty dressing room to collect the last wig.

Still excited, Katherina mounted the slippery Steingasse steps, stopping midway to gaze back down at the cobblestone street. The wind had dropped and clouds obscured the night sky. There was no traffic at the late hour and the silent air seemed expectant. She let herself into the warm hotel, greeted the night porter at the front desk, and climbed up the last staircase to her room. Sparkliest costume. Detlev’s words buzzed through her mind and, quickly, before she lost her nerve, she knocked on Anastasia’s door.

The door opened to Anastasia in blue jeans and plaid flannel shirt. She seemed surprised but not displeased as she stepped back to let Katherina enter. She held a glass of port wine in one hand.

“I hope I’m not intruding. Were you getting ready for bed? ” Katherina pointed to the plaid flannel shirt. “Or to cut lumber? ”

Anastasia smiled softly. “Come have a glass of wine. I was just unwinding. It was a good performance, don’t you think? ”

Katherina stood awkwardly in the center of the room, noting that the blanket on the bed had been drawn back. It was clear she couldn’t stay long, yet Anastasia was already pulling out a chair for her. Katherina loosened her cape, but did not remove it, and sat down.

“I’m sorry. It looks like you were about to go to bed. I won’t stay long. ”

“Oh, no. Please stay. I’ve been wanting to talk to you, too. But I’ve been busy with…well, things. ” Anastasia held up the port wine bottle and an empty glass, a questioning expression on her face.

“Oh, no thank you. Not tonight. I’d fall asleep on your floor, and that would be embarrassing. ”

“I’m sorry we couldn’t spend more time together. There were so many things we just got started on. Are you still working your way through your father’s journal? ” They sat down, knees to knees on the hotel chairs.

“Yes, and every page is a new shock. I don’t think people should know their parents’ secrets. I don’t want to know them. ”

“Yes, but it’s not just secrets. You’re reading a historical document. You can stay detached about the errors of a young man, can’t you? It was a different time. ”

“Detached? I don’t know. The journal tells of more than just a few indiscretions. It reveals a whole other life. My father’s family emigrated to Germany from Russia when he was a child, and he became a German citizen, yet somehow he ended up being a medic in the Red Army. He constantly writes about being guilty of something. I have no idea of what. I’m afraid I’ll find out he was a war criminal of some sort. ”

“Even if you do, you shouldn’t be quick to judge him. He lived through horrors you’ll never experience, so whatever he was, whatever demons he had, none of it affects who you are. ”

“That’s just it. His demons do affect me. We shared a vague guilt after my mother died, and it was a darkness in the air through all my adolescence. But now I find out something was haunting him even earlier, something apparently worse. I feel connected with him in this dreadful way and won’t be free until I find out what it was. ”

“And you think the journal will have the answer to that. ”

“Yes, I’m sure it does, but part of it, unfortunately, is in Russian. I think it’s about something that happened at Stalingrad. I speak a little Russian and can make out the printed letters, but not Cyrillic handwriting. ”

“I can take a look, if you like. ”

“Would you? It’s only half a dozen pages. I’d be grateful if you could read them. I’ll have a copy made for you. ”

“It will have to be after Rosenkavalier, I’m afraid. I can work on it while I’m in Hanover and mail you the translation. Will that be all right? And don’t worry. I promise you complete discretion. You can trust me, I hope you believe that. ”

“I do. I feel like I’ve known you a long time, that we understand each other. It’s too bad, you know. We both come and go this way from one engagement to the next. Opera gypsies. Keeping a friendship warm is a little like keeping a marriage warm, isn’t it? ”

Anastasia’s eyes twinkled. “Without the sex. ”

Katherina thought of Hans and Detlev. “Or, sometimes with. ”

Anastasia looked puzzled and Katherina realized she hadn’t spoken the Detlev-Hans part out loud. “I mean that some of the team have paired up. Haven’t you noticed? Hans, for example. ”

“With Detlev? Yes. Who would have thought? And they’re obviously having a lot of fun. I envy them, don’t you? Their courage to live and love as they want to. The rest of us just put up with the loneliness. ”

“Were you lonely? You should have… Stasya, look! ” Katherina interrupted herself abruptly and took Anastasia by the hand, pulling her up from her chair. “It’s what you’ve waited for. ” Katherina slid open the balcony door. Dazed, Anastasia allowed herself to be pulled gently out onto the balcony.

The bridge, the shop rooftops, the churches, the Festspielhaus were sprinkled with white powder, and the air all around them roiled with snow.

“It’s beautiful, but I’m sorry, it’s cold out here. ” Anastasia hugged herself.

“Stay, please. I’ll keep you warm. ” Katherina moved around behind her onto the higher step. She opened the heavy gray cape she wore and enfolded the other woman in front of her so that both of them stood within it. “Is that better? ”

“Uh-huh, ” Anastasia answered uncertainly. Then a breeze caught the tiny flakes, causing them to swirl in a wide funnel out over the river. “Ohh, you’re right. It’s like a fairy tale. ”

“And you don’t have to be in Russia for it. ”

The snow began to fall more thickly, spinning as it caught currents of air high on the hill. It glittered in a cascade of individual flakes directly in front of them, fell in sheets of gray-white specks out over the Salzach, and on the opposite bank, covered the old city and fortress in a soft gray mist.

They stood in the supernatural calm, cocooned within the cape, hearing nothing but their own breathing and the hiss of the falling snow. Warmth rose from the space between them and wafted in soft waves around Katherina’s throat. It smelled pleasantly of the faint residue of perfume and of Anastasia’s hair. Resting her head against the fragrant hair, Katherina whispered, “Like a sign from heaven, too much, almost, to be endured, ” from the duet they had sung only an hour before.

Anastasia relaxed against Katherina’s embrace and murmured the next line from the song. “Where was I ever so happy? ”

“How did she come to me and I to her? ”

“I feel it, this world and the next, in this sweet moment. ”

“Until death, ” they whispered in unison, as they had sung it, but without orchestra and stage, the declaration became their own. They stood in silence for an agony of time, as if before a threshold where both were fearful. Then Katherina whispered, “Anastasia. ”

Anastasia turned around inside the sheltering cape and inside Katherina’s arms. With eyes closed, she rested her cheek softly against Katherina’s and slid her hands around Katherina’s waist to her back. They stood in the gentlest of embraces without speaking, and with each breath Katherina could feel the rise and fall of Anastasia’s breasts.

Gathering courage, Katherina pulled the other woman closer and turned her own head just slightly. The corner of her mouth touched lightly against Anastasia, who did not pull away. She moved again, brushing her mouth across Anastasia’s and pressing, tentatively, on dry, uncertain lips.

The hissing curtain of snow around the balcony seemed to sequester them from the world, shielding them from judgment. Katherina withdrew the tiniest fraction, then covered the yielding mouth again, with slightly greater urgency. Anastasia’s lips were passive, waiting, but not resisting. No, not resisting at all. The coldness of their faces made the warmth of their mouths deeply comforting, like the fire they had just crouched over, sharing secrets. Katherina sensed a faint pressure of welcome, of timid invitation, and she lingered delicately at the edge of entry. Anastasia’s hands were at the small of her back, each fingertip seeming to draw her in. The warmth of her exhalation streamed across Katherina’s cheek, a whisper of acquiescence that came with the falling, then the rising of her chest.

Katherina became conscious of the entire length of Anastasia’s body pressed against her own, and the heat of arousal began like a small flame between her legs. She ventured farther in over gentle teeth, exploring. Still Anastasia stayed within her arms, breathing heavily, holding the pressure of Katherina’s leg between her thighs, her mouth pliant. For a long moment they stood in each other’s heat, the one imploring, the other considering, as if some great thing hung in the balance. Anastasia did not kiss back so much as she seemed to surrender, and Katherina was ablaze.

Then Anastasia broke the kiss and laid her cheek against Katherina’s again. “I don’t know, ” she murmured. “Forgive me. ”

“Of course you know. You knew on stage tonight. In the trio. ”

“Yes, at that moment. ” Confusion showed on her face. “But this is—”

The phone rang.

It was as if an axe fell between them, severing the fragile tendrils that held them.

“I’m sorry, ” Anastasia breathed. “No one would call this late unless it was important. ” Inside the room she caught the phone on the fourth ring. Slightly bewildered, Katherina pulled her cloak around herself and followed her.

The call was short and Anastasia set the phone down finally. “My agent, calling from New York. She’s gotten me an offer from the Met and couldn’t wait to tell me. ”

“New York. That’s wonderful. ” Katherina wanted desperately to step back into the embrace, but the moment was gone. She took a step forward, longing for touch, for anything, but Anastasia took a step back. Katherina searched for something tender to say, to at least return to that mood.

Someone knocked. A male voice sounded dully through the door. Anastasia’s look of panic told all.

Defeated, Katherina drew her cloak around her. “I guess I should go now, ” she said, and opened the door.

Boris Reichmann stood massive in front of her, filling up the door frame, arriving to claim his wife. A man in his late fifties, he had a full head of graying hair and a well-trimmed black beard. His small eyes over ruddy cheeks registered surprise and slight annoyance, and Katherina remembered the late hour. She felt suddenly criminal.

“Sorry, I’m just leaving, ” she apologized awkwardly, and stepped past him into the corridor. Behind her, she heard the door close. She could not remember ever hating anyone as much as she hated Boris Reichmann at that moment.

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