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Chapters 22, 23, 24 & 25: Demi auditions with the Vienna State Opera and is hired on the spot, as is a young English woman who proved to be an excellent mezzo soprano. Demi and her new friend get secondary roles in the first of Wagner’s Ring Cycle operas, Das Rheingold. Demi sees the new rage of the opera world, the star bass baritone, Arturo Vocelli who has the reputation of being a lothario. Demi is smitten, as have been many others; however, she is willing to take things slowly rather than throw herself at him. Unexpectedly, that is literally what happens. What she didn’t realize was that Arturo had also noticed her. Their romance takes off but Demi refuses to jump into bed with him. He is willing to wait. They can wait only so long. The question is, though, will Arturo propose? Well, if you read the first chapter, you know he does.
I posted four chapters because I wanted to get the story out there before we go on an extended trip to the Baltic. There are nine chapters and the epilogue to go after this.

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Introduction:

Chapters 22, 23, 24 & 25: Demi auditions with the Vienna State Opera and is hired on the spot, as is a young English woman who proved to be an excellent mezzo soprano. Demi and her new friend get secondary roles in the first of Wagner’s Ring Cycle operas, Das Rheingold. Demi sees the new rage of the opera world, the star bass baritone, Arturo Vocelli who has the reputation of being a lothario. Demi is smitten, as have been many others; however, she is willing to take things slowly rather than throw herself at him. Unexpectedly, that is literally what happens. What she didn’t realize was that Arturo had also noticed her. Their romance takes off but Demi refuses to jump into bed with him. He is willing to wait. They can wait only so long. The question is, though, will Arturo propose? Well, if you read the first chapter, you know he does.
I posted four chapters because I wanted to get the story out there before we go on an extended trip to the Baltic. There are nine chapters and the epilogue to go.

Author's Note:There are references to characters in previous novels, and I would strongly recommend that you read them if you haven’t already done so. Musetta Gigliotti O’Donnell is mentioned and referred to several times. Although she has been deceased for many years before this story begins, her influence is very strong. ‘Musetta’s Waltz’ is not very long and will give some important background. Musetta is a wonderful transgendered woman who overcomes extreme adversity.

This story is the fifth in the series and to date, the entire series covers nearly 100 years and five generations. The first story is “The Heart of the Beholder” and deals with the early life of Mike and Jo O’Donnell. “The Narragansett Fork” is about Fanny, the O’Donnell’s adopted daughter and a rather remarkable individual. It is in this book that we first meet Musetta. “Musetta’s Waltz” is her autobiography and the third book in the series. “Who Is Sylvia” is the story about Sylvia O’Donnell and how Phil Esterházy wins her. That brings us to the current story, which takes place 37 years or so after the end of the previous story.

Being transgendered or intersexed is not the main theme of this story. This is a story about a rather large family where two people happened to be intersexed and another, now deceased, was transgendered. This is a story about how people find love, over and above everything else.

There is a little mystery that shouldn’t be too hard to figure out. The clues are there. There are 34 chapters plus a prologue and epilogue. The story is complete. I am not sure how it will be posted. Regardless of the voting and comments, or lack there of, I will post it until completion. I’ll try not to let hurt feelings get in the way.

My thanks must go to Holly H. Hart for taking time from her harried life to correct the multitude of errors made while creating this story.

This work is copyrighted by the author and any publication or distribution without the written consent of the author is strictly prohibited. This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of the characters to persons living or dead is coincidental.

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After a pleasant lunch at an open air café, they just sat and talked for a while. The restaurant wasn’t very busy on the weekday afternoon and the waiters left them alone. Finally, just to keep them happy, Demi ordered a couple of diet drinks.

In her excitement, Sybil realized she had forgotten to call home and tell her family about her success. She started crying again when she told her husband the good news. Now they were going to have to find a place to live.

Sybil’s story was interesting. She had met her husband, Rupert Barringer, when they were in the equivalent of high school. He had a natural artistic ability; however, there seemed to be little hope in making a living as a sculptor, so he went to trade school and learned the stone mason’s trade. Sybil did not continue her education. Instead, she went to work in a pub so that she could continue to get voice lessons.

Few in her working class neighbourhood understood why anyone would want to be an opera singer. After all, the only singers who made any money were the rock stars who put on the big concerts. Besides opera was written by and was about a lot of dead people.

Things changed considerably two years after they had graduated from school. They were in love and still living with their parents. It had been a pleasant afternoon and the couple had decided to have a picnic along a local river. They had found a secluded spot, and had enjoyed their lunch and several cans of ale that Rupert had brought along. They were stretched out enjoying the sun and started making out.

It might have had a bit to do with the thrill of semi-public sex, as it didn’t take long for each of them to be partially undressed. It wasn’t long after that that Rupert was firmly planted in Sybil’s warm and receptive vagina. It was fabulous sex, not that it hadn’t been good in the past. The problem was, in the heat of the moment, the thought of protection was the last thing on their minds.

The realization hit them as their passion cooled. Rupert made it easy. Right then and there he asked Sybil to marry him. Her answer would have been yes regardless of the circumstances. They married a month later in a quiet civil ceremony. Sybil was a month pregnant.

Sybil’s employer was very understanding about her condition, and as her pregnancy advanced, allowed her to work the register. She worked right up to the week before she gave birth.

The birth was not particularly difficult and Sybil found motherhood to be very fulfilling. She had paid into the insurance plan that allowed her to take as much as a year off; however, the payments were based on her wages, exclusive of tips. A month after giving birth, she was back at work, and young Lionel was in a crib in a back room.

Sybil was a comely woman. She was about five-ten and had an attractive figure. She was nursing and gave many of the patrons a thrill with her low-cut peasant blouse. It was a win-win situation. The patrons ordered more drinks so they could peer at her beautiful cleavage that she teased them with, and she got much more in tips. Rupert, too, seemed to enjoy her enhanced bust size. They were much more careful than they had been before.

After lunch, Demi and Sybil followed the narrow streets to the Ernst’s house.

“This is where I stay. What do you think?”

“Wow, this is really something. How many people live here?”

“There’s just my Great Aunt MJ, the housekeeper and her husband, and me. Aunt MJ is almost 90. She owns the building. Here’s what I think. This place is too big for any ten people. Gustav and Greta live on the first floor in the back area. It’s very nice. There’s a modern kitchen for the house, and they have their own small kitchen in their quarters. Aunt MJ has a suite of rooms on the first floor. There’re several bedrooms and baths on the second and third floors. My room is up there on the third floor. Aunt MJ has three children and a bunch of grandchildren and great grandchildren. They visit frequently.

“Now here’s the deal. The ground floor is empty. It used to be the servants’ quarters. Half of it is used for storage; however, the other half is a quite spacious quarters. There’re three bedrooms, a large bath and separate half-bath, nice living area, and an eat-in kitchen. It hasn’t been used in years and probably needs some cleaning. The last time I looked all the furniture was still there.

“Do you want to look?”

“I would love to; however, it would cost a bloody fortune to live here.”

“It won’t be free, but I think I can make you a deal you can’t refuse. After all, the place has been empty for quite a while.

The pair was greeted by a somewhat concerned Aunt MJ who addressed Demi in Italian. Today was Italian day.

“Where have you been? And why haven’t you called me?”

“I’m sorry for not calling. Some things have come up. First of all, we made it. They want us this fall, sooner if possible.”

Demi returned to English. “Aunt MJ, this is my friend, Sybil Barringer. She is not real strong in languages. She memorizes the texts. She is married to an artist and has a two-year old boy. They are going to have to find a place to live, and I think I have a solution to several of their problems.”

“Sybil, this is my Great Aunt MJ. I’ll let her tell you how the name came about.”

MJ looked at the tall brunette for a moment then reached out to her. “Come here child and let me look at you.” Before Sybil could do anything, MJ was hugging her closely. “My goodness Demi, she looks just like MK.”

They spent a few seconds explain the use of the initials for names that had been used for nearly 80 years.

“Here’s what I think. The quarters downstairs hasn’t been used for a long time. If I remember, the area is quite serviceable and still furnished. It might need cleaning. Sybil can move down there and rent it from you. Now here’s the best part. You can work with her on her language skills. She needs to be immersed, and you can do it for her and her husband.

“What do you think?”

“I think I would be glad to help out. The place is clean, and we have plenty of extra linens. I was getting it ready to rent. This place is too empty as it is. I always like projects.”

“Erstens, Sybil, Sie werden nicht sprechen Englisch. Verstehen Sie? (First of all, Sybil, there will be no more English. Do you understand?)”

“Er, Ja, ich verstehe, I think.”

They worked out an agreement for the rent that was substantially less for a month than she was spending at the hotel for a week.

They were making the relatively short walk back to Sybil’s hotel. MJ worked some magic over the telephone and the hotel was agreeable to Sybil’s checking out early and didn’t charge her for that day’s use of the room. Apparently, they were full and could fill the room immediately.

“Your aunt is so sweet to do this for us. I can’t believe she would do this when she doesn’t even know me or my family.”

“Es tut mir leid. Ich spreche nicht sehr gut Englisch. Bitte sprechen Deutsch zu mir. (I’m sorry. I do not speak English very well. Please speak German to me.)”

Sybil’s immersion had begun.

They packed Sybil’s things and took a leisurely bag drag back to Aunt MJ’s home. It was late enough now that Demi could call back to the U.S. and give her family the news that she had a job. She called them while she and Sybil made their way along the Opernring, and as she expected, everyone was very excited for her.

Two days later, she was on the plane to New York.

~*~

“Well, little sister, how do you like New York so far?”

“It scared me the first few times, but I am a lot more comfortable than I was before, now that I have the subways figured out. I see now why you liked living here so much. This is a great neighborhood, and it doesn’t take any time at all to get to school.

“So tell me about this party tonight. Why am I invited to a high powered affair like this?”

“Most likely because you have made a very favorable impression. You have nothing to worry about. I imagine they will ask you to play something. No one will grade you. Just have a good time, and watch and learn.”

“Demi, am I going to be in the way, riding with you and your friend?”

“Not at all: we’ll let you off after the party, and go to his place for a while. I haven’t seen Ethan in a while, and I imagine he’ll be looking for some fun; at least, I hope he will.”

Demi spent the next few days taking care of business. She had two performances, and they occupied some of her time. Much of her time, though, was spent saying goodbye to friends and tying up some loose ends. Her wardrobe was fairly extensive; however, other than that, she did not have too much to ship to Austria. Her main interest was making sure her baby sister would be OK.

She hadn’t seen her sister that often over the last four years, and was happily surprised at how much she had matured. The person she saw now was a beautiful, confident young woman. The doubts that had subtly haunted her for years seemed to have evaporated.

Helen surprised Demi when she said she was taking on the project of helping several students get their acts together. She had made the decision with the encouragement of the school and Aunt Fanny to take on a young violinist as a roommate as soon as Demi moved out.

Helen drove Demi to JFK, and Demi was pleased to see how well she had adapted to driving in the outer Burroughs of the City. She hadn’t ventured into Manhattan, and wasn’t too sure if she would. That was just fine with Demi.

They hugged only briefly in the unloading zone. Helen had to get back into the car and depart before the approaching policeman could yell at her. Demi watched her depart, and although there was a tear in her eye, her heart was smiling. Her little sister was going to be just fine.

The flight to Vienna was uneventful, and for once rather comfortable, as Demi had splurged on a business class seat. The evening meal was served almost before the plane had reached cruising altitude, and she was able to doze for a couple of hours before the plane started its descent into Vienna. Customs and passport control were painless as usual, and she caught a cab into the city. It was very early and there was no reason to get anyone up at that time of day to pick her up.

Her Aunt greeted her at the door, and bribed her to stay up with some wonderful Viennese coffee and an American style breakfast. As she ate, she heard the approach of some adult feet and the patter of a small child’s. She turned to see Sybil holding hands with a sandy haired, ruddy complexioned young man. A small boy was shyly hanging onto his mother’s skirt.

“Guten Morgen, Demi. Wie war Ihr Flug? (Good morning, Demi. How was your flight?)”

“Dies ist mein Mann, Rupert, und dies ist Lionel. Rupert ist Deutsch ist nicht sehr gut, so habe ich Übersetzung für ihn. Tante MJ sagt, dass mein Deutsch ist erste viel besser.” (This is my husband, Rupert, and this is Lionel. Rupert’s German isn’t very good, so I have to translate for him. Aunt MJ says my German is much better.)

They allowed Rupert to speak in English; however, he was learning German rather quickly and would sometimes translate his English into German. He had gone to the Arbeitsmarktservice, the government employment office, and had found a job with a construction company. The pay and the hours were good.

After a shower and a change of clothing, Demi felt refreshed enough to tackle the city. She would check in with her employers soon enough. She wanted to get her Vienna legs back as soon as possible.

The season started in September, with some sort of performance almost every day. This was the year for the Ring Cycle and Demi and Sybil had somehow managed to get the roles of two of the Rhein Maidens in Das Rheingold. Sybil had been apprehensive about doing the role of Wellgunde because all three of the Rhein Maidens were basically nude. Demi was Woglinde, and relished the role. It wasn’t a big role, it was only in the first and last scenes of the opera, but it was a start.

There were several ‘mini’ rehearsals where the lesser roles would go over their parts separate from the leads. The plan called for a run through without staging, and then there would be a dress rehearsal. Sybil and Demi were very pleased with the first run through. The third Rhein Maiden was Albanian and didn’t speak English. Her spoken German was passable, and she knew her part well. She was just not very friendly and kept to herself. All the roles had understudies in case someone became ill or couldn’t perform. In the case of the Rhein Maidens, there were some local performers who could be called on if necessary.

The day of the full run through was the first time that the entire cast would be together. Demi was familiar with many of the cast members, and had actually performed with some of them in New York. There were several, though that she didn’t know much about. One of those was the male lead, Arturo Vocelli, who played Wotan. Arturo was obviously Italian, and that was a bit unusual as not many Italians were comfortable with the rather lengthy and tiring roles Wagner had written.

Vocelli was a bass baritone who had come on the scene in his middle twenties, and had taken the opera world in Europe by storm. His Don Giovanni was considered by many as the best in the last 50 years. He had done The Ring Cycle in Prague the year before, it had been his first time, and the reviews were very high on him. He had not originally been scheduled for The Ring in Vienna; however, the original lead developed throat polyps and backed out. Vocelli gladly took the role as it would mean five additional performances of The Ring Cycle over the next year. He was already signed to do Don Giovanni later on that fall.

Demi caught sight of Vocelli prior to the first run through, and her heart did a little flip flop. He was tall, dark and handsome; to put it simply. He was probably about six-four. His dark hair was slightly wavy and his eyes were bright blue. Demi could see that from across the stage.

After the rehearsal, Demi and Sybil were taking a leisurely walk back to the house. They could have taken the street car; however, the walk was just too nice in the still very bright late afternoon/early evening.

“You are being very quiet, Demi. Is there something wrong? I thought it went very well.”

“My God, he’s good looking.”

“Who? Oh, I know: Arturo. Stay away from him, Demi. He’ll just break your heart. He goes through women like a goose goes through greens, or is it greens through a goose. He’s no good. They say he is very fickle.”

“Maybe, he just hasn’t found the right woman. I might just have to find out.”

“Don’t do it. They’ll fire you for sure.”

“No they won’t. I won’t give then any reason to. I can take my time, and he’s going to be around for a while. We will be doing six performances of The Ring Cycle between now and next May. There will be plenty of opportunity.

The production of Das Rheingold was well received. Arturo Vocelli received rave reviews for his Wotan. In fact the entire cast was praised for an energetic and faithful production. There was a postscript mentioning that some might find the near total nudity of the Rhein Maidens a bit disturbing; however, if one to want beautiful mostly unclad Rhein Maidens, they couldn’t have found three better to play the roles.

Wotan is not in the first scene with the Rhein Maidens; however, it is difficult to miss three rather statuesque, partially clad cast members heading back to the dressing room, even if they were a bit covered up. Demi hadn’t realized it at the time; however, she had caught Arturo’s attention as well, not only with her beauty, but with her exceptional voice.

Being a principal cast member afforded Arturo some privileges. One of those was he had access to information about the cast members beyond what would be printed in the biographical notes in the opera program. What he found out interested him. She was an American. He had thought she was German, because that was all she ever spoke. He was well schooled in German and French, and his English was acceptable, although he would be told that his Italian accent was ‘adorable’. He had learned Russian early on because his repertoire included Boris Godounov and several other Russian roles.

Some would say later on that he had planned it. Others would say she had. Both would claim complete innocence; however the point was moot. Maybe the fates were just speeding the inevitable along. In spite of what some of the embellishments concerning the tale were, it was actually very innocent. Pandemonium is a frequent visitor to backstage, even at the best of times. They were doing a rehearsal for the second performance of Das Rheingold. The cast was not in costume; however, everything was pretty much in sequence.

Demi was rushing off stage, as she had an appointment with the hairdresser that afternoon. Arturo and his lead, Helga Von Erpp, were walking on while discussing the beginning of the next scene. Arturo, in his inherent Italian way, was talking with both hands. As he made a particularly demonstrative gesture while turning the corner, he and Demi collided. Simultaneously, his right fist collided with Demi’s face, directly below her left eye. Demi was no light weight and knocked Arturo to his knees. Stunned, she fell to her hands and knees, also.

“Damn! Mi scusi giovane donna, è tutta colpa mia. Mi dispiace quindi. (Damn! Excuse me young lady, it is all my fault. I am so sorry.).” He stood and helped Demi to her feet. The area below her eye was already beginning to swell.

“Si è colpa mia, signor Vocelli. Vorrei non sono state in genere una fretta.” (It was my fault, Signor Vocelli. I should not have been in such a hurry.)

“Vi sono feriti. Dobbiamo trovare un medico. Lei parla molto bene l'italiano.” (You are hurt. We should find a doctor. You speak Italian very well.)

There was an in-house nurse and Arturo insisted on accompanying Demi to the small clinic to make sure she was not seriously hurt. There was no evidence of any broken bones, just a rapidly swelling mouse below her left eye. The nurse applied an ice bag and gave Demi some mild pain pills. When Arturo determined Demi was alright, he returned to the stage. The conductor was not happy; however, he didn’t say anything. There wasn’t much he could do about it.

There was a matinee performance the next day, which meant Demi had to rise a bit earlier than she liked. Her face looked as if she had gone ten rounds with a head hunter. The entire area below her eye was purple, and the discoloration had migrated to encircle the eye below the brow. The eye was partially swollen shut. She did the best she could with makeup and ventured down stairs.

MJ was horrified at how Demi appeared and wanted to call the doctor. Demi told her that the nurse at the opera house would take care of her and that the doctor would probably be there, too.

Once at the opera house, Demi made her way to the dressing area and found Arturo waiting for her.

“Il mio Dio, che cosa ho fatto? Siete in dolore? siete in grado di vedere ( My God, what have I done? Are you in pain? Can you see)?”

“Io sono OK. Essa colpisce solo se mi tocca. Sembra peggiore è (I am okay. It only hurts if I touch it. It looks worse than it is).”

Stage makeup was able to obscure most of the damage, and the performance went off without a hitch. Demi returned to the dressing area, and was met with a lot of looks and giggles from other cast members. There were many innuendos floating around in several languages, and Demi was able to translate most of them without thinking. They referred mostly to the fact that she was in for it, and that Arturo had selected his next victim.

Sybil saw it first. “My God, Demi, he got you bloody flowers. Now you are in for it.”

Demi looked at her small space that was almost totally occupied by a huge arrangement of roses and greenery. There was a small note written in Italian: “These flowers can never repair the damage that I have done to your beautiful face. My apology is from my heart. Would you please have dinner with me tonight and let me try to make it up to you? I would like to take you to a little family style restaurant near here so that we may talk and enjoy each others’ company. I will pick you up at 20:00.”

“Wow, he works fast,” Sybil said, as Demi translated the note. “You’re not going to accept, are you? I warned you about him. He’s no good.”

“Of course, I’m accepting, and I don’t think he’s anywhere near as bad as you and the others say. Believe me; I can look out for myself. I’ve never met a man yet who could do anything to me that I didn’t want him to. I am a big girl and I am very strong.”

Demi and Sybil changed into their street clothes after the fourth scene and the opera’s end. Demi had gone to Arturo’s dressing room earlier, and left a note with his dresser, who apparently was expecting her. They then made their way out of the opera house to take the pleasant walk home. It was a good way to unwind after a matinee performance.

“So, how do I look?” Demi asked as her aunt and Sybil looked her over. She was able to mask much of the bruising on her cheek, but the area around the eye was difficult to hide. Based on Arturo’s comments about the restaurant, Demi was casually dressed.

“Like a lamb being led to the slaughter,” Sybil said somewhat seriously. “MJ, I tried to convince her not to do this. Arturo Vocelli is a lady killer.”

“Demi can take care of herself, Sybil.” She turned to Demi who did look very nice. “So, you have everything, yes: pepper spray, brass knuckles, Taser, chastity belt?”

“Guys, he’s alright. I can tell. If he does anything to me, it’s because I let him. Stop worrying.”

The doorbell chimed, and MJ made her way to the door.

“Ah, Signore Vocelli, buona sera.”

“Buona sera, Madame Schmidt. Spero vi sono ben questa bella serata.”

“I am fine, thank you. It is so nice to see you again. What has it been, two years I think since the reception?”

“Come on, Demi is waiting.”

“I’m sorry. Am I late?”

“No, you are not late. Demi is early.”

They entered the parlor where Demi stood with a frown on her face. “Aunt MJ, you never told me you knew Arturo.”

“You didn’t ask. I met Arturo right after your Uncle died. I was invited to a reception for the cast after Don Giovanni a few years ago. I think he is much nicer than the Don.”

“Good evening, Demi,” he said as he raised her hand to his lips, not quite kissing it. He then turned to Sybil and raised her hand in the same manner. “Good evening, Signora Barringer. It is nice to see you again. How is your husband and little boy, Lionel is he not?”

Demi was having some problems as she was still having chills going up and down her spine. She knew this night was going to be important for her, and she was having some conflicting feelings. She knew she was very attracted to Arturo sexually; however, she felt there was much more to him than the scuttle circulating in the opera world attributed to him. If things went the way she hoped they would, it could get very interesting.

The group traded banalities for a while, and Rupert and Lionel came up to say hello. Eventually, the two departed for what was to prove to be an enjoyable evening.

The restaurant was a very pleasant Italian restaurant located at the ground level. There were four steps down to the dining area, and they had to duck to get under the low door. The atmosphere was very homey, and the aromas were intoxicating. There were the requisite Chianti bottles with candles.

“Buona Sera, Giuseppe.”

“Buona Sera, Signore Vocelli, la tabella è pronto (Your table is ready).

“Chi è questa bella donna (Who is the beautiful lady)?” asked Giuseppe.

“Questa bella donna è il prossimo grande soprano in opera parola, Signorina Demeter Esterházy.

“Demi, questo è Giuseppe Mediate. Egli è il miglior cuocere a Vienna.” (He is the finest cook in Vienna)

Giuseppe led them to a very nice table in the corner near the back. Once they were seated, he told them what the specials of the evening were. There was a four course fixed price dinner that sounded wonderful. Giuseppe recommended a Pinot Grigio to start, and soon they were sipping the nicely chilled wine.

The next three hours were very pleasant. They spoke only Italian. The Pinot Grigio was followed by a nice Chianti Classico. Arturo asked about Demi and learned much about her growing up in remote northwest California. She found out he was from the Veneto Region of northern Italy near the city of Vicenza. He was only 30, three years older than Demi. Demi loved northern Italy, and she began to realize that Arturo would probably love northern California. They had shared a tiramisu and were now sipping on some chilled lemoncello.

“So Demi, where do we go from here?”

“I’m thinking we have two options.

“Option one is we go back to your room at the Bristol, where we fuck each others’ eyes out. I am sure it would be very enjoyable; however, as a result, we will never go out together or socialize again. We might meet on the stage after this, and I am sure we will do very well together.

“The other option is we take it slowly. We get to know each other for the next few weeks and months. Maybe we get to meet each others families. We learn what we like and what we don’t like. We find out what turns us on and what turns us off. After that we will go to bed and fuck each other’s eyes out. The only difference will be that we both will know that the other will be there the next morning and the morning after that.

“Personally, I am leaning toward option two. What do you think?”

“I think I would like to take you out to dinner tomorrow night. I know this very nice little Hungarian restaurant not too far from here.”

It turned out that Arturo knew a lot of very nice little restaurants.

Then there was the event that more or less sealed their fates forever.

There was a new prima donna at the opera house. The role of Brünnhilde does not appear in The Ring Cycle until the second opera, Die Walküre. The role was being played by Lotté Meisner who was one of the best Wagnerian sopranos of the day. She was also known for her fits of rage when things didn’t go exactly the way she wanted them. She was such a draw, that most conductors and directors bowed to her wishes.

Demi was in the role of one of the sisters of Brünnhilde, one of the Valkyrie, and had already witnessed a couple of Meisner’s tantrums: it was too hot, the lights were too bright, she should enter from stage left not right, Wotan was too loud, etc. It all came to a head at the dress rehearsal. Now Maestro Mosconi’s tempos were too slow, then they were too fast. What the hell was an Italian doing conducting this great German opera anyway? Finally, she turned around and shouted, “Where is the director? Where is he? I have had it. Either Mosconi goes or I go.”

By that time the Music Director had arrived, and he listened to her tirade. “Ms. Meisner, you are only one person out of several hundred in this production. It’s an easy decision. Don’t let the door hit your ass on the way out.”

“You stupid son-of-bitch, I will be at the hotel when you come to your senses. That understudy isn’t worth shit. She will ruin the production. Call me. I certainly won’t call you.”

Meisner stomped off the stage.

Maestro Mosconi turned to an assistant. “Call the understudy. We will take a short break.”

“Maestro, the understudy called in this morning. She has a severe sinus infection and has lost her voice. There is no way she will be ready in time.”

“This is shit. We will have to cancel the performance. We have no choice.”

“Maestro, I will sing it. I know the role,” said Demi in perfect German.

“Who are you? Oh yes, you are the new one, the American.

“Look, we don’t have time to play up to your fantasies. What do you know?”

“I know all of Wagner. You may test me if you wish.”

“So, where did you sing Brünnhilde? I don’t recall ever having heard of you before. What is your name?”

“I am Demeter Esterházy. I have never done it on stage, only in my dreams.”

“That’s all we need: a dreamer. I need a soprano – Brünnhilde. If we can’t find one, the performance is cancelled.”

“Maestro Mosconi,” said Arturo, “I think you should give her a chance. I think she can do it.”

“Right, everyone knows you are fucking her. Is this your payment for a good fuck?”

“Maestro, you need to calm down before I knock your head off. Your language and accusations are inappropriate. Miss Esterházy and I are friends. That is true; however, our personal involvement has nothing to do with it and our personal involvement is none of your business. I happen to know that she knows the entire Ring Cycle, as well as everything else Wagner wrote.

“Give her a try. You can’t really afford not to. If you don’t, you will probably have to find another Wotan as well. I don’t think you can afford that, either.”

He turned to Demi. “The ball is in your court, I think they say in your country. Can you really do it?”

“You know I can.

“Maestro, I am ready when you are.” She was.

Word had gotten out that Lotté Meisner had walked off in a snit, and was still waiting in her hotel room to be begged to come back. The word was also circulating that the replacement soprano was Arturo Vocelli’s latest love interest, and that the only reason she was even being considered was that he threatened to leave if she didn’t get the role. That was only partly true.

Demi’s biography was inserted into the programs, and many people were surprised to learn that she was an American. Most thought that she was probably Hungarian or Austrian. Esterházy is a rather famous Hungarian name, and there were several very prominent people over the centuries with that name, including Haydn’s benefactor.

The performance brought rave reviews. There were many comments about the obvious chemistry between Wotan and his daughter. There was, in fact, chemistry both on and off the stage. The fact that Lotté Meisner had walked out on her contract meant that Demi was immediately hired to play Brünnhilde in the remaining performances of The Ring for the season. Her next performances in Siegfried were even better received than her first one. By the time the second time the cycle of the four operas was performed, Demi and Arturo were firmly in place as two of the preeminent performers of Wagnerian operas.

Much had been going on besides Arturo and Demi’s romance. Sybil’s talents had not gone unnoticed, and she was quietly establishing herself as an outstanding mezzo soprano. Her break came when she was asked to perform Carmen in Bratislava. She was three months pregnant when she performed the role, but no one noticed. It was a very happy time for all.

Arturo and Demi’s romance never wavered. They had made it through the first three of the operas in the cycle, and there would be a two week break before the performance of Gotterdammerung. This meant there was a week before they had to endure the rehearsals. Arturo didn’t have any problems as he had performed as Wotan and Gunther quite a few times; however, Demi had never performed the operas on stage until now, and had a lot to learn about the acting involved.

They had finished the final performance of Siegfried, and were sitting in the parlor of MJ’s home. Arturo had yet to be above the first floor, although he had gotten pretty close to third base. The five adults were sitting in the parlor sipping port and munching on some brie and crackers. Lionel was in bed. The three performers were exhausted. Tonight, according to the rules, they were speaking German, so at least Rupert could keep up a bit.

“Demi, we don’t have to be back for a week. Would you like to come with me to Vicenza? It is not a very long drive and I would like for you to meet my parents. I have told them about you, and they would like to meet you.

“It’s only about a six hour drive, and if we leave in the morning we can be there in plenty of time for dinner. What do you think?”

“I think I would like to do that very much.”

There was a knowing exchange of glances between Sybil and MJ.

~*~

Demi didn’t know that much about his family. She had assumed they were fairly well off, and she wasn’t wrong. The drive had been fun. Arturo had a tendency to open things up a bit on the open road, and they were past Venice and heading into the foothills of the Alps surrounding Vicenza in a little over five hours. The agriculture of the flatlands surrounding Venice gradually changed to vineyards, and the terrain reminded Demi very much of the foothills of central California.

They wandered into the hills and entered a small village. There was a rather impressive winery on the outskirts, and the white walls of the buildings glistened in contrast to the golden grass covered hills.

“That is certainly a nice looking winery. It is so clean,” Demi remarked. They were speaking Italian.

“Yes, Father can’t stand dirt. He has two men who do nothing but paint here and at the other winery in Verona. It keeps them busy.”

“This is your family’s?”

“Yes, we have had them for more than four hundred years. That is how they could afford to send me to school to learn how to sing. I love wine, but can’t stand to make it.” Actually, that was far from the truth. Arturo knew much about the art of making wine. He just found opera to be a greater love.

They followed a winding, cypress lined drive to the top of a knoll that jutted out from a larger hill. There was a moderate sized parking area outside what appeared to be a courtyard. The house was two stories topped by a cupola on one wing that went up another story. The exterior was stone, and the roof was a bright terracotta tile. The house was ‘U’ shaped with one wing including a small chapel.

As they walked through the wrought iron gate and entered the courtyard, they were greeted by a middle aged couple who were probably ten years younger than Demi’s parents. They were obviously appraising the statuesque blonde accompanying their son. There didn’t appear to be any looks of concern, just broad and bright smiles.

“Momma, Papa, I would like you to meet Demeter Esterházy. She is very special.”

“She must be,” exclaimed his mother, “You never brought anyone home before.”

“Maria, stop that, you will scare her off before we get to know anything about her.”

“Miss Esterházy, I am Pietro Vocelli and this harridan is my wife, Maria. I have to beat her to keep her in line.”

“Don’t you believe him for a minute. His touch is only full of love for me. Pietro is a good man. I will keep him.

“Arturo, get Signorina Esterházys’ things, and I will show her to her room.”

A large tiled stair led from the courtyard to the second floor covered porch. There was the smell of wisteria and lemon blossoms in the air. The source was obvious as the chapel was partially covered with the purple festooned vines. There were several potted lemon trees, and they were in full bloom. Glass paneled double doors led to an interior hall that split to the right and left to each wing. Maria led Demi to the left.

The house had been built to follow the slight slope of the knoll, and the hall was broken by a series of steps in several places.

“Arturo tells me you are called Demi. May I call you Demi?”

“Certainly, Demeter is my mother’s fault. She named me and my sisters after Greek mythology. Only Helen goes by her given name. My older sister, Persephone, goes by Persi. Mother was a little more in line with my brothers, using family names. They are Joseph and Patrick.”

“This is Arturo’s room,” Marie said, indicating the first room on the right. “You have the suite at the end of the hall.”

They passed two more closed doors on the right. The hall was dark as the heavy wood, inner shutters were closed to the heat of the day. By this time, Arturo was right behind them with their bags. Marie opened the heavy planked door at the end of the hall. There was a huge bathroom on the right and a set of steps led down to an obscenely large bedroom. The windows, if they had not been shuttered, opened out to three directions.

Arturo set Demi’s bag on the stand and turned to leave. “Arturo, why don’t you and Demi clean up. We will have some wine and antipasto ready in about an hour.” She and Arturo left, closing the heavy main door behind them.

Demi looked around and shook her head. ‘What a fabulous place,’ she thought. She opened the shutters and unlocked the window at the end of the room. There was a garden below, and beyond that a swimming pool that appeared to plunge over the edge of the hill off to who knew where. Beyond all that were acres of vineyards rolling into the distant valley. Far in the distance was an unnamed village with the always present church steeple. ‘I could get used to this.’

She put up her clothes, undressed, and headed for the huge bath where there were several large terry cloth robes on hooks on one wall. The floor was marble, and she would find out later on that it was heated when needed. She showered behind the glass partition that did little to keep the floor dry. Then she wrapped her damp hair in a towel, and looked at her image in the slightly fogged mirror. She turned and donned one of the robes.

Walking in her bare feet, she went up the hall and knocked on Arturo’s door. He opened it after a few seconds. He had a towel wrapped around his waist. He was very athletic in appearance. His muscles were well defined, and reminded her of her older brother.

“Arturo, I need you to come to my room. You need to attend to my eyes.”

Arturo had a look of concern as Demi preceded him down the hall.

“Shut the door.”

He did, turning his back for a moment to push it closed. When he turned back there was the image of Demi, standing provocatively with her robe and towel puddled at her feet.

“Mio Dio (My God)!”

“I think it’s time for you to take care of my eyes, and for me to take care of yours. I think I know where you will be tomorrow, and the day after tomorrow. Please make love to me. I can’t wait any longer.”

They met in the middle of the room; his towel was on top of her robe. They kissed furiously for a few moments, then he gently picked her up and placed her on the bed where she had already pulled back the sheets. He was very gentle and very strong. She was very demanding at first, and he gently slowed her down. He worshipped every square inch of her that he could reach. He kissed her inner thighs and then danced his tongue over her nether lips and found her hard little clit. She didn’t last 30 seconds. She came with a loud drawn out moan as she gently held his head to her.

He didn’t let her rest. He left a trail of light kisses from her mons to her breasts. He lingered there for a while, eliciting quiet little grunts of appreciation. Then he moved up to her waiting lips as his thumb and forefinger pulled at her hard nipples. She didn’t have to ask as he gently entered her, sliding into her waiting sex. She was more than ready, and with four short strokes they were connected, pubic bone to pubic bone.

She smiled into his eyes and he into hers. There were a few tears rolling from the corners of her eyes, and he gently kissed them from her. From this point on, they were equals. It didn’t take long and neither was disappointed.

They nestled together with their fingers intertwined, her hand pulling his to her breasts. “I imagine that your folks are expecting us downstairs soon. We’d better get ready.”

By the time she cleaned up and dressed Arturo was already downstairs and had gone outside to discuss something with his father. When Demi emerged from the interior stairway, she could see that the large kitchen was not occupied. She heard Puccini being played in a room on the other side of the dining room, and followed the sounds down a wide, short stairway to a large living room. Marie was sitting on a love seat, and motioned for Demi to sit beside her. There was a spread of cheeses, olives and cold cuts on the low table in front of her.

“Sit here beside me, my child.” She poured a glass of white wine, and waited for Demi to have a sip before she said anything else. “You know he loves you, don’t you? You are the first woman who refused to jump into bed with him. He wouldn’t have refused you had you wanted to, but you are strong. You see him for what he is: a kind and gentle man, who happens to be very handsome.”

“You love him, too. I can see it in your eyes and smile. You will be good for him, and Pietro and I will have many grandchildren.

“Now, I think this foolishness of you two being in separate bedrooms should stop. He has his old room, but he doesn’t need to sleep there.” She paused. “I think you made love this afternoon. That is so nice for your first time together to be in this house.”

“Maria, I don’t….”

“Don’t worry about it. It was time. I could see that, too. Besides, why would two people take four showers in a little over an hour. Neither of you could hide what happened, anyway. You are positively glowing.

“Pietro probably won’t leave me alone tonight. That’s alright,” she added with an anticipatory smile.

Demi may have been a bit apprehensive when she first met Arturo’s parents; however, that apprehension soon evaporated. They were warm, friendly folks, and quickly won her over. That is not to say everything was perfect. Mothers have some almost unalterable plans when it comes to the marriages of their children.

The next morning the dawn was sliding through the cracks in the shutters and Demi awoke to the sounds of birds singing. There was also the distant sound of farm equipment and voices. Some were singing. She gently removed herself from Arturo’s embrace. They had made love for at least an hour before falling into a mutual slumber. There was no doubt about their sexual compatibility, and they had probably been aware of a tremendous attraction from the early moments of their relationship.

Holding off on consummating their sexual relationship had been as much Demi’s testing herself as her testing Arturo. Demi’s sexual drive was very strong, but she had never found anything but sexual pleasure in any of her relationships. After the orgasm was over, there was nothing to hold onto. Once she got over the early rush of having sex with vigorous, youthful lovers, she felt hollow. She wanted the companionship her parents, and Joe and Amy had, and there had been only one person who had ever provided the love and warmth she needed so far, and that person was Persi.

Her relationship with Persi was the only thing that kept her from going of the deep end after their foolish indiscretions and subsequent grounding. There were several years before her mind caught up to her body sexually, and Persi willingly provided a comfort and control during some of the uncertain times. Persi never sought out Demi, but she was always there to hold and comfort her. Their pleasure was mutual as was the comfort. Over the months, Demi’s visits to Persi slackened; however, their intimate moments continued right up to Persi’s graduation and departure to medical school.

Demi never felt any jealousy when Persi took an occasional lover, nor did she when Persi started seeing one particular medical student, and allowed him to move in with her. Demi didn’t like him because she felt he was a subtly abusive slug. When the relationship terminated at Persi’s behest, no one was happier than Demi, other than Persi. It was a few weeks later that Clara Titorenko moved in. Persi and Clara had been friends since the first year of medical school, and when Demi spent a weekend with them, she wasn’t surprised to find out they were sleeping together. Clara had been in a very bad relationship, and that had ended in very serious consequences. Demi knew Persi and Clara were very happy.

Finally, Demi was realizing the happiness she had been looking for. She had awakened with her lover beside her and she looked forward to the days, weeks, months, and years she knew she would have with him. The wait had been worth it.

After taking care of things in the bath, she opened the windows to the cool dry air. There were several dozen workers harvesting grapes, and they were singing folk songs and telling politically incorrect jokes. Several small tractors were pulling small gondolas laden with grapes to a larger truck where a lift dumped the grapes. She looked down to the pool, and could hear the pool pump and cleaning equipment doing its thing. The water looked very inviting.

She found her two piece suit, and put the robe on over it. She found some shower clogs, and walked along the cool, tiled floor up the hall. She wasn’t sure how to get to the pool without going out through the courtyard; however, there was a short hall leading out to the rear of the house, and a gravel covered walk led directly to the pool area. Placing the robe on a lounge chair, she slipped off the shoes, and did a shallow dive. The pool was large which gave her the opportunity to keep a good speed before she turned. She clicked off several laps before someone joined her. She glanced to her side and saw Arturo matching her stroke for stroke.

Finally, her watch indicated she had been swimming for about 20 minutes, and she had reached a comfortable level of fatigue. She came to rest at the shallow end of the pool.

“I am sure glad you stopped. I don’t think I could have gone on much longer. You left me, and I thought you might have gone back to Vienna, but I looked out to see who was swimming, and there you were. I am so glad you didn’t go back.”

They exchanged passionate kisses and Arturo’s hands were starting to wander a bit. They were interrupted by the sound of Marie clearing her throat.

“OK, you two, enough of that. I have some Danishes and cappuccino for you. We are fixing the main breakfast inside, and this should hold you over until you get dressed.”

They climbed out of the pool, and Arturo turned away from his mother and grabbed a towel to wrap around his waist. He was making an effort to hide his erection from his mother’s view. He failed, but she didn’t let on.

Marie was looking at the woman her son had fallen for. She knew Demi was a large woman. It was not possible to disguise her stature; however, Marie had not realized how well put together she was. There was the natural layer of fat that feminized her well muscled body, but there was no excess. Demi moved with the grace of a lioness, and the muscles were evident with every motion. Her ample bust was restrained somewhat by the swimsuit top, but just barely.

“Demi, thank God the pickers will be finished today. If they ever caught sight of you in that suit, all our grapes would turn into raisins before they were picked. May I ask how tall you are?”

“Sure. I am just a bit over six feet, two inches. I think that works out to about 188 centimeters. I weigh 80 kilos, and feel good where I am. You should see my big sister. She is an inch taller than I. We are built very much alike, and take after our mother. My father is the muscle man, but he is short, only five-ten. My older brother is the Olympic Decathlon champion. He and my baby brother are about six foot five inches, or right at 196 centimeters. Then there is my baby sister. She is the beauty in the family. She stopped growing at six feet. She is very talented and very special. She is a great pianist and will only get better.” Demi choked a little at the end of her revelation. It would be a while before the others understood why.

It had been decided that Demi would get a tour of the winery after breakfast. On the way, they stopped to watch the pickers strip the vines of their grapes. They were fast and efficient. Arturo and Demi stood at the edge of the vineyard for a while, and the laborers obviously knew who he was and waved. There was a friendly exchange of insults, and a few deliberately loud enough to be heard comments about the well built Amazon standing next to Arturo. Demi blushed a bit, but realized this banter was typical among many Italian men.

She found the winery to be fascinating. She followed the grapes being brought in to where they were loaded into augers that took them to the presses. She saw the huge fermentation tanks and the thousands of oak casks used to continue the aging process. They joined a group of tourists who were being bribed with cheese and other hors d’oeuvres in the hopes they would buy many cases of wine. Glasses of chilled Prosecco were being passed around and Demi had several.

Vicenza was a fascinating city of well over 50,000 people. Demi had been there more than 10 years before, and had never anticipated she would be there again under the present circumstances. She loved the place. The inner city was primarily a walking area, and there were many high end shops. It was fun taking the whole place in.

Some of the shops were shutting for the afternoon siesta, and they found a sidewalk café on the shady side of the street. There was going to be a dinner back at the house later that evening, and there was no need to fill up. Arturo ordered a pizza with porcini mushrooms, plus a couple of cold Italian beers. They just relaxed in the shade, and watched the shoppers and tourists.

Just outside the main square there was a gelato vendor, and they picked up two cones on the way back to the car. Demi loved chocolate, and the rich, solidly packed gelato hit the spot. Twenty minutes later, they were back at the house.

The house was quiet, and the couple walked silently up the stairs and down the hall to the darkened room that had retained its coolness from the morning. Demi quietly removed her clothes and helped Arturo with his. She was slightly intoxicated from the wine and beer, and felt very amorous and relaxed. She could smell her perspiration as well as Arturo’s. It was not unpleasant. It was a clean smell, it was natural, and it was his smell.

“Arturo, my mother told me never to make the mistake she did and be afraid to tell someone that you loved him. I love you very much. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t be here with you now. I think we need to make plans, but that can wait a little while. Right now, I have some short term plans. I want to get this beautiful instrument of yours inside me as soon as possible. It’s been too many hours since the last time. Ti amo."

For the first time, he allowed her to be in control. It didn’t matter to him. She straddled him and quickly fitted him to her. She slowly sank down in little steps until they were fully coupled. She paused, savoring how he filled her. He lifted up and teased her breasts, pulling hard on her nipples with his lips, letting them pop free and then recapturing them. She had been gently caressing him with her inner muscles, and she began to gradually rise and fall on him. She accelerated and lengthened her motions. Her head was thrown back and her eyes were tightly closed. He reached down and found her special spot and quickly brought her over the edge.

“Jesus Christ,” she exclaimed as she fell on his chest. He held her for a moment as her breathing slowed. Then he gently rolled her over.

“You haven’t come yet, have you?” she said as she moved his hair away from his eyes.

“I will soon enough.” He pulled at her thighs and she understood what he wanted. She wrapped her legs tightly around his waist as he pistoned into her. She met him stroke for stroke. He was right. He came in less than a minute, and she with him. They slept for two hours.

They came down the stairs as the sun disappeared behind one of the higher hills to the west. They met Maria as they stepped off the last step. She was carrying a tray of goodies to the living room.

“See, isn’t that nicer now. You have to use only one shower, and we save so much water that way.

“Come on, Alphonse and Margherita are here.”

They could hear music and the sound of glasses in the far room.

“See, here they are. I told you they would be down soon.”

“Demi, these are our other two children. Alphonse is studying viniculture in France at the moment, and Margherita is in medical school in Milan.

“Alphonse and Margherita, this is Miss Demeter Esterházy. She is the first woman your brother has ever thought well enough of to bring home to us. She is an opera singer like he is.”

“Momma, we don’t live in a hole. They are already talking in Milan about getting her there.”

Margherita crossed the room and hugged Demi, kissing her on both cheeks. “Demi, please call me Margie. Thank you for finding our brother. He has been looking for you for a long time. I don’t approve of his methods, but you know how men are. He is a bad boy, but I think he is trainable.”

They had a most enjoyable evening. Alphonse (Al) was three years younger than Arturo and had a deep love for wine making. Demi was surprised to learn he had received an advanced degree from the University of California at Davis. Demi began to realize that Arturo’s opera career had started out as an indulgence on the part of his parents. The original plan had been for him to take over the family business; however, it turned out that he was a genuine talent, and had gone directly from college to the stage. Much like Demi, he had learned the roles, and when an opportunity presented itself, he was ready.

Young, handsome bass-baritones are a rarity. It usually takes years to establish oneself in opera, but he rose to the top quickly. What this meant was rather than having a fifty year old singer trying to portray a thirty year old lothario. There was a twenty five year old bass baritone who, with the aid of makeup, was playing a thirty-five year old lothario. He was not a prima donna, and was willing to learn from the more experienced performers. He took chances, and stuck his neck out. He succeeded.

One of his early successes was playing Zorastro in the Magic Flute. He handled the low notes with ease. Then he played the evil Scarpia in Tosca. He was so good, the audience hated him. Then the opportunity came to sing in The Ring Cycle. It was not at a major house, but the right people were there. His Wotan was spectacular, and when he did Gunther, people had a hard time believing it was the same person singing.

There was an additional problem. He had become a matinee idol. His dark hair, chiseled features, and bright blue eyes were featured on all sorts of magazines and tabloids. The fact that his family was wealthy was certainly no hindrance. There had been three paternity suites filed against him; however, when, it came to genetic testing, it was proven beyond a doubt that he could not have been the father. He was very careful, and always used condoms. Some would say he was weak; however, he had no permanent girl friends. Had he, the situation might have been quite different. One thing did come up in later discussions, and that was the fact that he didn’t use protection when he first made love to Demi, and she never asked.

Then there was the problem of religion. Italy is a very Catholic country. It is quite liberal in many respects, much to the annoyance of the little country completely surrounded by Rome. The birthrate in Italy is probably lower than any other predominantly Catholic country. The Vocelli’s were decidedly Catholic, and Maria had some very firm opinions about her children’s marriages.

The shit hit the fan one morning after Demi and Arturo had their morning swim. Demi had returned to their room and Maria held Arturo back.

“So, when will be the wedding?”

“Momma! I have not asked her yet, and she has not asked me.”

“Are you going to propose?”

“That is very personal, Momma.”

“Yes, and as your mother, I need to know. If you are going to propose, I have to make plans. I have to talk to the priest, make arrangements for the Duomo.”

“I thought most of that was the decision of the bride and her mother.”

“Well, they live way off in the woods of America. I would think the marriage should be here. After all, our friends wouldn’t want to go all the way over there.”

“It might not matter, Momma, there are other things you don’t know. She is not Catholic.”

“Well, that’s not much of a problem. She can convert. Protestants do it all the time. There’s not that much difference.”

“Momma, she is not a Christian.”

“Oh my; surely, she is not Jewish.”

“No, she is not Jewish. In her way of thinking, God does not exist. We have had long talks about this because I knew you might have a problem with it. She says it doesn’t matter to her. I may worship whomever or whatever I am comfortable with. That’s between me and my conscience.

“She says all of this is God,” he said giving a broad sweep of his arm. “The total universe is ‘one’. If someone does not understand the universe and needs a short answer to all the mysteries out there, then maybe creating a deity or deities is the easiest way not to worry about it. You create rules of conduct and magical explanations for the science. Then attribute them to the god of your choice. She says it is all circular reasoning.

“Momma, it doesn’t bother me. I will still go to church every once in a while for the Holy Days. She says she will go with me, if I like. She says our children will be free to choose. Her father was a Catholic, but is no longer. Her mother believes as does Demi. Her Aunt is a very strong Lutheran. She made that choice. Her oldest brother attends church as does his wife.

“They are good people, Momma. They just disagree with our concept of reality. That is not important to them. I will ask Demi to marry me, and I think she will accept. We will get married with or without your blessing. Please don’t be angry.

“Look at it this way. There are thousands of parts to Demi. All of them are wonderful. I know you like her, I think maybe even love her. Don’t let this one thing destroy your happiness, our happiness.” He hugged his mother and tried not to pay too much attention to the tears that were forming in her eyes.

“We are going to Verona. Maybe we can talk about this some more when we get back this afternoon. Try to be happy. Think of those grandchildren. Some of them might even decide to be Catholic. Don’t push us out of your life because of this.”

Demi was dressed and ready to go when he entered the room. “You told her. I could hear you from the window. I think you did that very well.

There was silence for the first few miles as they made their way south to the Autostrada. Arturo finally broke the silence. “I think she will be OK. She has all these plans about grandiose weddings in the cathedral. She has trouble accepting the fact that she is not in control. Her sister, my aunt, is a nun, and that makes it even more difficult for her. Margie’s fiancé is Catholic, so Mamma can plan that wedding to her heart’s content. Al’s girlfriend is Catholic, and I am beginning to think they are serious. So there’s another big wedding.

“Now about us; I think it might happen. Mamma’s making some assumptions. We shall just have to see.”

At that moment, Demi knew he was going to ask. She tried not to show any emotion, but a tiny tear escaped to run down her cheek. She lightly dabbed at it with a tissue, and smiled to herself. ‘This is so right.’

Verona was an interesting city. It was much larger and more industrialized than Vicenza and it did not have the visual appeal that Vicenza had. Still, once they got into town, there was a lot of appeal to it. After all, Shakespeare centered many of his works in this area.

Something did happen that Demi had not expected, but should have. Arturo was recognized.

They were sitting in a sidewalk café when two teenage girls approached and asked for his autograph. He gladly signed the visors of their sun hats, and they sped off to a group of friends. Soon some of their friends got their courage up and asked for autographs, too. Then there were the photographers.

An older couple recognized both of them, and asked if they could pose with them while a waiter took their picture. The couple said they would be in Vienna for the performance of Gotterdammerung, and that they had really enjoyed the three previous performances. The paparazzi showed up soon afterwards, and the couple retreated to the interior of the restaurant.

“Welcome to your new life,” Arturo remarked as they ducked inside. He was right. Things would never be the same again.

Pietro was waiting for them when they returned. “We must talk. Maria is waiting for us. There is some nice wine. Of course it is nice; it is mine.” He led them to the living room, and Maria looked up and smiled.

“Maria and I had a long talk this afternoon about you two. I think we had to look at things from a different perspective than we might have a few years ago. We know there is nothing official about you; however, we can see the difference in Arturo. He is happy. It is like a great weight has lifted from his shoulders.

“The only reason can be you, Demi. You are a bright ray of sunshine, and both Maria and I have become very fond of you. I had to beat Maria for several hours this morning before she came around to the correct way of thinking. We can see you love Arturo, and we can see Arturo loves you. It will be only a matter of time before you decide to do the right thing. If and when that time comes, we will be there with you no matter what you decide to do.”

“Pietro, I wish you wouldn’t say that you beat me.” She turned to Demi. “Pietro is a kind and gentle man. We did talk about what Arturo told me this morning. I admit it did bother me; however, Pietro made me realize that there are millions of beautiful young Catholic women out there that can’t hold a candle to you, Demi. The happiness of you two is the most important thing.

“Now, have some wine and cheese. I am going to fix some calamari.

“Come Pietro, we should leave them alone for a few minutes.”

Much too soon they were heading back to Vienna. Gotterdammerung was bearing down on them. If there was any problem, it would be because of their new found intimacy. Neither had any desire to curtail their bedroom activities, and something was going to have to be worked out.

They parked in the courtyard of Aunt MJ’s home, and were greeted by Sybil as they entered the main house.

“Well, I can see there’s no need to ask; not with those two smiles. Come on, we’re in the back parlor. I have all sorts of news.”

Aunt MJ and Rupert greeted them. Lionel was playing with a toy he had brought up from the apartment. MJ looked the two over and smiled.

“There was an old joke that used to go around in my family. I remember my sister-in-law telling me that she embarrassed my sister after the first time she and Mike made love. The question was, ‘Smile if you got any last night’. From the breadth of your smiles, I can see I don’t have to ask.

“I think Sybil has some news, and I have some things to discuss. Sybil, why don’t you start?”

“Guys, my agent called two days ago. The Slovak Opera wants me to do Carmen! I was about their third choice, but they are sort of snookered. It’s in two months. Bratislava is only a few hours away, and I can still work here. The Volksoper wants me to do Prince Orlofsky in two weeks. It’s great, and it’s happening almost too fast.

“Oh… and I am pregnant.”

There was the appropriate exchange of hugs and kisses.

“Arturo,” asked Aunt MJ, “don’t you think it’s time you got out of that expensive hotel and moved in here? I think I will make that suite upstairs yours and Demi’s. I know you two will be traipsing all over Europe, and the world for that matter. You might want to settle down somewhere eventually, but this would work nicely when you’re in the area.

“Give it some thought.”

Demi and Sybil were getting some additional hors d’oeuvres and wine from the kitchen. “So, you two shagged each other all week?”

“I guess so. It was wonderful. I think we waited until about 30 minutes after we got there. It was right, and I don’t think there is any doubt where our relationship is going.”

“So he didn’t propose?”

“Not in so many words, but I know he will and soon. We had some problems with his folks because I am not Catholic, but they got over it.”

“Not a bloody Catholic, hell, you’re not anything! I say if he doesn’t propose, don’t let him move in here with you.”

“Sybil, my Aunt and Uncle have had a monogamous relationship with their partners for forty years, and they never married.”

“My god, he was the bloody PM for Christ’s sake, and he stayed married to his wife until she died.“

"Sybil, you are going to have to admit that Arturo is not as bad as you think. In, fact, he’s not bad at all. He and I are very much alike in so many ways. I’ve probably had as many bed partners as he has. But since the day we met, there hasn’t been anyone else, and I think it’s staying that way. He is a good man.”

Sybil let the matter drop, but it would be a while before she could accept Arturo for who he really was.

The next week was exceptionally busy. There were a number of partial and full rehearsals. Arturo was in the role of Gunther, so his interaction with Brünnhilde was quite different from what it was in the previous two operas.

Gotterdammerung is a hideously long opera. The actual performance can run close to five hours, and with two lengthy intermissions, the performance can involve well over six hours. The Ring Cycle is a huge production consisting of over 16 hours of music in four operas. The whole thing culminates in the deaths of Siegfried and Brünnhilde. Brünnhilde rides her horse into the funeral pyre and the fire rises to consume Valhalla.

Demi’s success was not meteoric. Instead of flaring and burning out, it got brighter and brighter. She was the darling of the Viennese opera world, and there was not a ticket available. People paid a few Euros to stand behind the rail at the back of the top balcony; it is in the nose bleed zone. There was no space. Usually occupied by students, there were many watching from there in their finest evening clothes.

The roar from the audience was phenomenal as the curtains closed on the destruction of Valhalla. The principals made many trips to the front of the stage to accept the appreciation from the audience. Finally, the curtains opened so that the entire cast could be seen on stage. The continuing applause was thunderous, and many of the audience were standing, which in Europe is not done that often.

An attendant walked across the stage and presented Demi with a huge bouquet of roses. There were chills going up and down Demi’s spine. She had done it. She had performed The Ring Cycle in one of the greatest opera houses in the world. She was Brünnhilde, and she was going to do it five more times in the next year. The best thing was she was going to get to do it along with the man she loved.

The applause was starting to wane, and some were heading for the exits. Then, something strange was happening. The curtains weren’t closing.

Arturo stepped forward and raised his arms. “Ladies and Gentlemen may I please have your attention.” He had to repeat himself three times, and did it in three languages. The movement of the crowd ceased and they turned toward the stage.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” he said in German, “a few months ago this beautiful lady on my right stepped forward and said she would sing the role of Brünnhilde when the role had been vacated and there was no replacement. Most doubted she could do it, after all, she had never done it on stage before. I for one believed her and would have left had they not allowed her to at least try.

“Well, she proved them wrong, and she did it quickly. She did the dress rehearsal without the score. She impressed a lot of people that day, and I think she won the hearts of the cast, crew and all of Vienna. I know she won mine, although she had actually won it much earlier.

“There are some people in the audience whom I would like to call everyone’s attention to.”

Demi was shocked. This was definitely strange behavior.

“Arturo,” she whispered, “What in the hell are you doing?”

“Patience, dear, this will soon be over.”

He turned back to the audience who for some strange reason weren’t leaving. “Miss Esterházy was asking me what was going on. We shall all see.

“If these people would stand and wave so everyone else can see them. In the front row we have Drs. Phillip and Sylvia Esterházy, Demi’s parents. Next to them is Demi’s Aunt, the distinguished composer Dr. Fanny Essegian and her husband John. Next to them is Demi’s Great Aunt, Madame Mary Jane Schmidt. Let’s see, we have my parents, Signore and Signora Pietro Vocelli. Next to them are my brother and sister, Alphonse and Margherita. In the row behind them are Demi’s Aunt, the distinguished pianist Katherine O’Donnell and her companion and former Prime Minister of Great Britain, Sir John Farnsworthy. Next to them are her Uncle Sean and his companion Hilda. I know I have left many out; however, in these lights, it is difficult to see everyone.

‘What’s my family doing here? They’re in California and England.’ Then it hit Demi like a ton of bricks, and tears started flowing. She couldn’t have stopped if she had wanted to. She hadn’t had the faintest idea that her family was in Vienna, and now she knew why.

Arturo knelt before her, grasping her hand in his. “My dearest Demeter Esterházy, before all these people as witnesses, I swear my undying, never ending love for you. Will you please make me the happiest man on earth and marry me?”

“Oh yes, you fool, I will marry you. I may never forgive you for this stunt, and it is only fitting you will be mine for the rest of our lives.”

He slipped a very large diamond ring onto her finger, then stood, and they faced the audience.

She turned to the crowd and yelled, “Ich liebe euch alle und ich liebe Wien. (I love all of you and I love Vienna). Vielen Dank und gute Nacht (Thank you and good night.)!”

There was a thunderous round of cheers and applause from both on stage and the audience. The curtain finally lowered, and the audience filed out.

“I don’t believe you did that,” Demi said as they headed back to the dressing rooms. “I mean, I’m glad you did it. I just can’t believe you did it.

“My God, all my relatives; I mean, how did they get here? How did they know? What did you do to get them here?”

“I’ve been talking to them for weeks. Computers are so nice. We met face to face many times. Your Aunt MJ helped a lot, too. I had to talk to your father and mother to tell them not to believe everything they heard about me. I knew a long time ago that I was going to do this tonight, and I would have married you regardless of what Momma and Papa thought. I had to let them see how wonderful you were. Dad was easy. Mom wasn’t really that difficult. I thought she would be worse.

“Get cleaned up. This night is hardly over. You see, there is this nice little Italian Restaurant I know, and everyone is meeting us there in a little while. There is going to be a little party.

“By the way, all my things were moved into our room at your aunt’s house during the performance. Most everyone else moved in while you were down here getting ready.”

Giuseppe was waiting at the door when they arrived, and the party was in full swing. They entered to the cheers of everyone. The first to greet Demi and Arturo was Helen. She had been unable to make the connection to Vienna, and had to take the train from Munich.

“You work fast, big sister, in more ways than one. You’re a star already and you have found your Prince Charming. I guess that leaves just me and Patrick. I’ll find my Prince someday. Patrick seems to be in love only with his plants and fishing. But, there is still hope for him.

“Arturo, you will have to take very good care of Demi, although I think she can take care of herself pretty well. She told me that if a man ever gave me trouble, she would hunt him down and kill him. Well, I am not as big and strong as she his; however, our big sister is bigger and stronger than Demi. She said that if you ever hurt her, that she and I would have to do the same.”

Helen then grabbed Arturo around the neck, and placed a very passionate kiss on his lips. “Welcome to the family, big brother. I guess I’ll have to learn Italian, now.

“The food is wonderful, and there is a lot of chilled Prosecco. Let’s have some fun.” Helen twirled and headed for the wine. Arturo followed her with his eyes.

“You were right. She is very beautiful. But for you, I might have fallen in love with her.”

“I expect you to love her, but in a strictly hands off, brotherly manner. She is looking for her prince, too. I think I know who he is, but neither knows it at this time, and the time is not yet right for them.

“She has been a very good girl, not the bad girl I was. Thank you for rescuing me, Arturo. I will never be able to thank you enough.”

“Thank you for rescuing me, Demi, my Princesa.”

Helen stood by while the two exchanged passionate kisses, then handed them two glasses of Prosecco. The party continued until the dawn.

~*~

Arturo had engagements in other opera houses before he was due back in Vienna, and Demi had been signed to play Rosalinda in Die Fledermaus, and Hanna in the Merry Widow. These roles were a pleasant change from the exhausting Wagnerian roles she had done for the last few months. The schedule worked out very well for both of them, and they were able to attend each others’ performances.

The more important situation was when and where the wedding would take place. The fact there would be no church wedding was moot. A wedding in Italy or Austria was a two stage affair. There was the wedding in a government office and then, if desired, there was the church wedding. The latter was not official without the former.

The eventual solution made perfect sense. Demi wanted a wedding that felt and looked like a wedding. She knew the perfect place, and it was the same place where her older brother had been married.

Once Arturo’s mother had given up on a church wedding, she agreed that a trip to California might not be such a bad idea, besides, Pietro and Alphonse could write off part of it as business expense.

The wedding was a formal confirmation for Maria that her oldest son was officially married, and that was all that mattered. She found Demi easy to love as a daughter-in-law, and as long as the subject of religion wasn’t brought up, there were absolutely no problems. Pietro had warned her that she would accomplish nothing by pursuing the matter. Besides, he would beat her if she did. What would eventually seal Demi’s fate as a beloved daughter-in-law was the birth of Maria’s first grandson.

There have been many romances in the opera world. There have been affairs of great notoriety, long lasting love affairs and marriages. Probably one of the clichéd romances would be between the lead soprano and lead tenor. It has happened many times. Some of the marriages were good and some were not. In Demi and Arturo’s case, it brought about some interesting circumstances when they performed opposite each other. Three of them were in Puccini operas.

In Il Tabarro he strangles his wife’s (Demi’s) lover, and then throws his body, hidden by his cloak, at her feet. In Gianni Schicchi, he plays the scoundrel father, who insures his daughter and her lover’s happiness, and lines his pockets as well.

The toughest role for Demi was when she played Tosca to Arturo’s Baron Scarpia, the lecherous and evil Chief of Police in Rome during Napoleon’s invasion in 1800. Tosca stabs him to death at the end of the second act. It was very emotional for her, and at the curtain call she embraced him and kissed him, while asking his forgiveness for even pretending to kill him. After that, whenever they did Tosca together she would kiss Arturo at the end of the second act. They played the roles together for more than 30 years. There were many kisses.

~*~

Aunt MJ lived to be 104. She moved out of the large house a year after Arturo and Demi’s wedding. Her children, grandchildren, and great grandchildren had no great affinity for the house. So with their concurrence, the house was converted to a residence for retired professional musicians who genuinely needed a place to live.

Sybil went on to have a very good career in opera. The family moved to Cornwall where Rupert opened a small studio. Apparently, he was very good, and his works carved and chiseled from the native rocks commanded good prices. Sybil toured the continent and the U.S. for about ten years, and then retreated to a recording and limited concert career. They had four children by then. The children were a very important part of her life and she didn’t want to miss out on motherhood. She didn’t have a chance as they had four more children before they found out what caused them.

There were several music companies in Cornwall, and the Barringers became heavily involved in putting on Gilbert and Sullivan operettas. One of the greatest and warmest surprises of Sybil’s life was when they were doing The Pirates of Penzance. In the first act there is a point where the heroine walks on stage for the first time. Demi had secretly taken the place of the local soprano for the entrance, catching Sybil totally off guard.

Sybil rushed on stage, stopping the performance, to hug her best friend. Demi didn’t want to take over totally from the aspiring young soprano; however, the young lady would have many more chances to perform, and she asked Demi to finish the first act. She might pick up some good pointers.

~*~
Author's Note: Next: There’s another cat to contend with. Karen awakes to find the two from the previous morning plus a huge tabby. The monster cat introduces himself and demands to have his chest scratched. Once Karen gets it right, the purring starts. For the next few chapters we are going to learn a lot more about Persi and Clara’s relationship. How did they meet and what precipitated their romance.

Thanks again to Holly H. Hart for her very professional assistance.

Portia Bennett

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