Mozart's Sister (39 page)

"In his study." I tried to catch a breath. "I'm nervous"

Franz stroked the curve of my cheek with a finger. "We are
united in this. That's all that matters."

It was a nice sentiment-even if the latter declaration was wishful thinking.

He took my hand and patted our connection. "So. Let's proceed
with the meeting so we can proceed with our life together, yes?"

My vote was yes.

Although we approached the door to Papa's study hand in hand,
once there, I let go. I knocked on the doorjamb. Papa looked up
from his desk, his glasses perched on his nose. His eyes moved from
me to Franz.

He removed his glasses and stood, extending a hand in greeting.
"Captain d'Ippold. You are just the man I want to see"

Franz looked at me, but I had no idea what Papa was referring
to.

Papa pulled a chair close. "Sit, sit. Nannerl, go ask Therese to
bring us some wine."

Franz raised a hand. "No thank you, sir. I have a pupil coning
later this afternoon, and-"

"Yes, yes, another time, then." Papa nodded at me. "You may
leave us, Nannerl. Don't you also have a pupil arriving soon?"

My head shook back and forth. This was not going as I'd
planned. Or hoped.

"Actually, Herr Mozart, Nannerl is the reason I have come here
today."

Papa's right eyebrow rose and he sat back in his chair. Franz
extended a hand in my direction and I took my place beside him,
our hands clasped.

Papa's eyes seemed locked on our hands, yet with the appearance
of a deep furrow between his brows. I wished he would look elsewhere. Unfortunately, although I would have liked to burst forth to declare my love for Franz, it was up to Franz to speak of his intentions first. At this moment, I was but a minor character in this scene.

"Sir ... as you know I am a teacher at the Virgilianum and am
also a captain in the imperial army and have been assigned to the
archbishop's war council, where-"

Papa's eyes lit up. "I'd forgotten that. It appears you work for the
archbishop in many capacities, don't you?"

Franz looked confused-as was I. Papa had little regard for
Archbishop Colloredo, so if anything, I'd expected Franz's multiple
associations with that man to be a detriment in Papa's eyes. Yet Papa
was acting pleased? It didn't make sense.

Papa leaned forward in his chair. "You know that our Wolfgang
is currently in Paris."

"Of course." Franz glanced at me, then back at Papa. "And let
me extend my condolences on the tragic death of your-"

Papa flipped his concern away. "Yes, yes. Thank you." He
extended a pointing finger. "The issue now is Wolfgang, and getting
him back home to Salzburg."

Franz squeezed my hand and gave me a smile. "I know that
would please our Nannerl very much. She misses him so-"

"Perhaps you can be of help to us. I have been negotiating with
the archbishop, trying to secure a position for Wolfgang as the
organist, in Aldgasser's position, with hopes of his being Kapellmeister someday"

Franz's face showed his surprise. "Nannerl has mentioned you
wanted him to come home, but-"

"It's more than a watt. Wolfgang needs to come home and
assume a salaried position. According to my calculations, it will take
two years to pay off the debts he's incurred on his travels. And Paris
has proven to be a disaster-though there was talk of a position at
Versailles." Papa sighed. "At this point, Salzburg offers many advantages over any German city in that ours is a cathedral court rather
than a political one. Being an employee of the court here means we
are better protected in the event of the death of our ruler. It's not
like the debacle caused by the death of the elector Maximilian,
wreaking havoc to the point of war." Papa cocked his head. "Speaking of ... what is the current talk of war?"

I was shocked into deafness as Franz answered. How had a
discussion about romance turned to talk about Wolfie's job prospects-and now war?

Franz fidgeted beside me, bringing my thoughts back to the
conversation. Papa stood. "So as you see, we would really appreciate
anything you could do to procure a good position for our
Wolfgang." He glanced at me. "Nothing can go forward until then."

I was taken aback. So he'd guessed why we'd come?

Papa showed us out, saying he had work to do.

Apparently, so did we. I led Franz to the front door. "I'm so
sorry," I said. "Papa tends to focus on one thing, and one thing
alone. My brother is everything to him."

Franz pulled my hands to his lips. "I assure you, that is not true.
He loves you very much. He is rightfully concerned about your
future."

I pulled my hands away. "Then why wouldn't he listen to our
plans-our plans to be together?"

"Because he is a father and has bigger concerns than his daughter's immediate happiness."

I snickered. "As you say."

He fingered the lace at my shoulder. "He is your provider, Nannerl. Your protector. And you know-as does he-that my salary is
not worthy of excitement."

I leaned my forehead against his chin. "I don't need riches,
Franz. I just need you."

He cupped the back of my head with a hand and kissed my hair.
"We will work this out, my love. We will."

He sounded so certain.

The rest of the day was full of lessons, chores, and a trip to the
theater in the evening to see a traveling troupe. As usual Papa invited
some of the lead players to our home afterward, and though I was
the good hostess, my heart wasn't in it. After the failed discussion
about my future that afternoon, I'd wanted to talk with Papa alone,
to somehow explain to him how being married-even to a man who wasn't rich-would ease his own financial burden.

But all day Papa was unavailable to me-whether by busyness or
design. I'd regrettably resigned myself to having our discussion
another day, when on my way to bed, I passed his room and saw
that a candle was still lit. I hesitated, not sure-even after the anticipation I'd experienced all day-that I was up to the task of this confrontation.

He must have sensed my presence, for he said, "Nannerl?"

I took a fresh breath and opened the door the rest of the way.
He was propped in bed against some pillows, reading by the flickering candle on the bed stand. "Did you and Therese get things put
to right?"

"Yes, Papa." My mind locked on the trivial. "To let you know,
Therese has asked for a new flour container. The one we have is
letting in all types of bugs. She's tired of picking them out."

"Just last week she broke the hourglass and asked for a new one.
And now this?"

"We need it, Papa."

He sighed deeply. "There is always something."

Money. Again. My courage was doused. I turned toward the
door. "Good night, then."

"You love this man?"

I was stopped in my tracks and turned to face him. "I do."

"Are you wanting to marry this man?"

I nearly laughed at the way this entire subject had been brought
into the open. "I do."

Papa shook his head. "We need more, Nannerl. He is not
enough."

My laughter died. "We, Papa? We would not be getting married.
I would be getting married."

He lowered his chin and looked at me through his lashes.
"Surely you are not that naive."

I crossed to the safe shadows near the wardrobe. "I know my
marriage affects the family. I know that. But Franz makes enough to
support me. And you still have a fine job as the Vice Kapellmeister
and-"

"So I am to work the rest of my life?"

I felt the air go out of me. The rest of his life? Now I was the
provider? My thoughts moved to Wolfie. "But when Wolfie comes
home from France and gets a position ..."

Papa shut his book with a snap. "If. If. And yet that is the only
solution. That boy has no idea of the debts that hang over our heads,
that prevent you or me from having a good night's sleep, that prevent
us from having the life we would like to have. We all must make
sacrifices, Nannerl."

My legs buckled. All energy was gone. I turned toward the door,
needing the comfort of my bed to enfold me.

"Nannerl." Papa held out his hand, wanting me close. Somehow,
I managed to go to his bedside. "I'm not saying no-not yet. But
there are obstacles. First and foremost, our debts."

"Franz doesn't care about our debts."

"He would have to. They are a part of us until we find a way to
get them paid. He is not a rich man. You cannot saddle him with
our financial burdens. It would not be fair to him."

Put that way ...

"Besides, the archbishop will never approve of the marriage."

"Why not?"

"Because he hates us, Nannerl. And your d'Ippold is in his
employ on multiple accounts, as a teacher and as a member of his
war council."

"I agree we've had our problems with the archbishop," I said,
"and Wolfie has tested him sorely. But right now you're negotiating
with him for Wolfie's return. That doesn't sound as if he's against us.
He wants Wolfie back. He doesn't hate us."

Papa shrugged. "I'm just stating that these are obstacles you must
address. It will not be easy."

My heart jumped. "So you don't disapprove-not completely?"

He shrugged again. "Obstacles must be overcome. With that ...
we'll see."

I leaned over the bed and wrapped my arms around him. "Oh,
thank you, Papa. Thank you."

"Yes, yes, enough of that. To bed now To bed."

Dallying. That's what Wolfie did best. He dallied in every city
he was in-anything to keep from coming home. The autumn after
Mama's death we expected Wolfie home many times, but he always
found a reason to stay away-some lead or some great opportunity.
Some near-miss that never materialized.

The truth was, Wolfie didn't want to come home and work for
Archbishop Colloredo. I knew that. Everyone who knew Wolfie
knew that.

Except Papa-who knew it but refused to acknowledge it. To
Papa, getting Wolfie back in Salzburg, safely ensconced in a salaried
position, would save our family's finances. I couldn't see that he was
wrong in this, but I knew keeping Wolfie in such a position would
be like trying to cage a hummingbird. I'd nearly come to believe
that the reason God had not allowed my brother to obtain a position
anywhere was because the Almighty knew it would kill him.

Money. A necessary evil. If only Wolfie didn't have to think
about money but could concentrate on creating and performing for
the sheer joy of it.

If only we all could do what we wanted to do.

In mid January 1779, after months of taking his time heading
home, Wolfie finally showed up in Salzburg. It was evening and he
fell into bed without giving us a chance to talk. The next morning
Papa slipped away to work with instructions to let Wolfie sleep. But
when it turned twelve noon ...

We were morning people. I'd already been to mass at seven,
taken care of the household chores, done some ironing, gone to the
home of one of my pupils for a lesson, and had walked Bimperl-
twice. Papa would be home for lunch soon, and even though he'd
pretended to be lenient about Wolfie's first day home, I knew if
Wolfie wasn't up and about, Papa's nerves would pay. As would the
peace of our home.