CHAPTER ONE
When Diana St. James was a child, she used to sit on the carpet of her grandmother’s living room in Long Island, where she’d listen to Strauss’ waltzes and Mozart’s symphonies and all other kinds of classical music, lilting from an old-time record player, until she knew every note by heart. Sometimes, her grandfather would pull her up and spin her around the living room, while she stood upon his toes, giggling wildly.
She smiled at the thought as the express train smoothly bulleted toward Vienna, which was finally coming into view over the horizon. The green hills were giving way to small villages, and now the historic buildings of the city were visible, rising above the verdant trees. If only my grandparents could see me now. Here, in the City of Music!
She peered out the window at the green, rolling countryside, full of sleepy towns with thatched roofs and residents who happily waved at her, as if they’d never seen a train before. Occasionally, the train would zip through a deep forest so lush she could almost smell the pine trees. The majestic, snow-capped Alps rose in the distance, and she marveled at the sheer size of them. She’d watched The Sound of Music a thousand times, but no movie could ever beat the real thing. Julie Andrews was right; the hills were alive. It sort of did make her want to run through them, spinning and singing.
Never had she thought she’d actually visit Austria. And Vienna? This was where all of the legends of classical music had flourished, learning the craft and creating their masterpieces.
A little thrill travelled down her spine, and she leaned so close to the window that she nearly pressed her nose against it.
She clutched her itinerary to her chest as she thought about what she’d like to do first when she stepped off the train. Always a planner, when she’d been the Marketing Director at Addict cosmetics in New York City, she’d followed her schedule to a T. When she left JFK airport, she’d actually mapped out stops at popular tourist sights down to the hour, only to have the schedule fall apart mere minutes after the plane touched down at Charles de Gaulle. But now, on her third stop on her whirlwind, year-long tour of Europe, her trusty, leather-bound book had changed. After adventures in France and in Italy, she’d come to expect that nothing ever went according to plan.
So now, the book was a bit of a bucket list. It didn’t include stops at all the most popular tourist traps. Sure, it would be nice to see those, but instead, she’d filled the book with the things in her heart that she really wanted.
So her only plans for Austria were simple ones: Be moved to tears by beautiful music.
In a city known for its music, she figured there’d be a lot of opportunity for that.
CHAPTER ONE
When Diana St. James was a child, she used to sit on the carpet of her grandmother’s living room in Long Island, where she’d listen to Strauss’ waltzes and Mozart’s symphonies and all other kinds of classical music, lilting from an old-time record player, until she knew every note by heart. Sometimes, her grandfather would pull her up and spin her around the living room, while she stood upon his toes, giggling wildly.
She smiled at the thought as the express train smoothly bulleted toward Vienna, which was finally coming into view over the horizon. The green hills were giving way to small villages, and now the historic buildings of the city were visible, rising above the verdant trees. If only my grandparents could see me now. Here, in the City of Music!
She peered out the window at the green, rolling countryside, full of sleepy towns with thatched roofs and residents who happily waved at her, as if they’d never seen a train before. Occasionally, the train would zip through a deep forest so lush she could almost smell the pine trees. The majestic, snow-capped Alps rose in the distance, and she marveled at the sheer size of them. She’d watched The Sound of Music a thousand times, but no movie could ever beat the real thing. Julie Andrews was right; the hills were alive. It sort of did make her want to run through them, spinning and singing.
Never had she thought she’d actually visit Austria. And Vienna? This was where all of the legends of classical music had flourished, learning the craft and creating their masterpieces.
A little thrill travelled down her spine, and she leaned so close to the window that she nearly pressed her nose against it.
She clutched her itinerary to her chest as she thought about what she’d like to do first when she stepped off the train. Always a planner, when she’d been the Marketing Director at Addict cosmetics in New York City, she’d followed her schedule to a T. When she left JFK airport, she’d actually mapped out stops at popular tourist sights down to the hour, only to have the schedule fall apart mere minutes after the plane touched down at Charles de Gaulle. But now, on her third stop on her whirlwind, year-long tour of Europe, her trusty, leather-bound book had changed. After adventures in France and in Italy, she’d come to expect that nothing ever went according to plan.
So now, the book was a bit of a bucket list. It didn’t include stops at all the most popular tourist traps. Sure, it would be nice to see those, but instead, she’d filled the book with the things in her heart that she really wanted.
So her only plans for Austria were simple ones: Be moved to tears by beautiful music.
In a city known for its music, she figured there’d be a lot of opportunity for that.
In fact, she’d taken the train to Vienna on a whim, without putting much thought into where she’d stay or what she’d do once she got here. How crazy. How unlike her. If only my coworkers at Addict could see me now! They might not even recognize me, she thought, as she shuffled to the edge of her seat, preparing to disembark.
As she did, an older woman toddled toward the exit, clutching the back of the seat with one hand and a cane with the other. When the slowing train suddenly lurched forward, she stumbled with it. Diana lunged over to steady her, quickly moved her bag from the seat, and guided the woman into it. “Danke,” the woman said. She had fiery red hair, streaked with white, and a cherubic, unwrinkled face.
“Are you all right?” Diana asked as the woman, a little stunned, settled into her seat.
“Oh, yes. I’m in a bit of a rush to get off,” she said with a pronounced accent. “I’m meeting my grandchildren in Vienna and I don’t move as quickly as I used to. I don’t want the train pulling away before I’ve had a chance to drag my body off it!”
“Well, I’ll be happy to help you when you the train comes to a stop,” Diana said, smiling until her eyes were caught by something out the opposite window. She gasped at the sight of a magnificent old castle, buried high in the mountains, swathed in wisps of fog, like some sort of fantasy story come to life.
“Thank you. Is it your first time in Vienna?”
Diana nodded. “My first time in Austria. In Europe, actually. I’m spending a year here, seeing all the sights. I just came from Verona, Italy.”
“Oh, very good, very good.”
“Is that where you came from?”
“No, I live in Salzburg, but my family is here in Vienna. We are going to dinner tonight, and I’ll be visiting with the grandchildren. What will you be seeing while you are here, may I ask?”
Diana looked out the window. “Well, I’m not sure. I—”
“No doubt you will take in some music at the Musikverein?”
Diana’s eyes widened in surprise and she opened her itinerary. “Actually, it’s funny you say that. The only thing I have on my bucket list is to—”
The woman read her writing. “Be moved to tears by beautiful music? Ah, the last time I was here, that happened to me. I heard the most wonderful pianist at the great golden hall!” She patted her chest. “I could feel his notes deep in my soul.”
“Really? What was his name?”
“Lukas Huber,” she said, pointing at the itinerary with one chubby finger. “You write that down. He is young, but he will be a household name, one day, like Herr Mozart. He performs his own compositions, but his work on Mozart’s Piano Concerto No. 21 was one of the most gorgeous renderings I’d ever heard. You know it, of course?”
“Oh, of course,” she said, the ritornello lilting through her head. “It’s one of my very favorites, too. But I’m very partial to his twentieth.”
The old woman nodded. “I do not know music as well as you do, but you will love Vienna. You can almost hear the music in the air, when you’re here. It seems to travel on the breeze.”
She laughed at the thought of that. When she was married, Evan had always liked complete silence. But Diana was the one who needed classical music to be playing in the background at all times. It soothed her, lifted her spirits. Music in the air was certainly better than what she had in Long Island, which was the sound of the highway traffic and police sirens, all the time.
“Tell me . . . Is it possible, do you know, to get tickets to a performance at Musikverein last-minute? I grew up watching the New Year’s concerts from there on television. I heard that there was some sort of lottery to get seats . . .?”
She nodded. “Unfortunately, it is quite difficult to get a seat. It’s old, so a rather small venue. For months and months, they are usually booked up. People make reservations years in advance.”
“Oh.” Her spirits plummeted.
“But don’t fear! There is a possibility you can get a standing seat. Perhaps not at Musikverein as most of the tourists and university students go there, but the others, Volksoper or Theater an de Wien. It is possible.”
“Theater . . . you mean, isn’t that where Beethoven first performed many of his works?”
“That’s right.”
She gasped. “I totally forgot that was here! I have to go see it.”
“Yes, you must! For a music lover such as yourself, I am sure you will enjoy it . . .”
She laughed. “I know nothing about Vienna, but I do know a bit about classical music. My grandparents were very interested in it. My grandmother was a classical pianist, so she loved all of this. I wish she could see me now. In fact, I wish she could be with me now.”
“Ah. Then you are in the right place. I’ll wish you luck! Maybe you’ll get a seat!”
That would be a dream come true! she thought, writing the names of the theaters down on her itinerary as the train slowed to a stop at Vienna Hauptbahnhof, the main station in the city.
Diana grabbed her own bag and helped the woman up. She carefully escorted her down the aisle, helping her take the steps, one by one. When they reached the ground, the woman beamed at her. “Do you know where you are headed?”
Diana looked around at the modern train station as they walked to the doors. It was a bright, sunny day, and the sunshine slashed down through a diamond-shape window above them. She couldn’t wait to see the history, the gothic statues and stately marble facades of the old buildings. At least, most people here spoke English, so that would be helpful. She shrugged. “Not really!”
Suddenly, childish voices shouted in unison, “Oma!”
Diana turned to see two children, a girl in braids and knee-socks, and a little boy with a mop of blonde hair, running for the
woman. They hugged her and spoke in German as a man and woman came and joined in on the hug.
Diana took a step away as the old woman greeted her family, feeling a pang of homesickness for her own children. Though Lily and Bea were grown with lives and families of their own, and though she and her husband Evan were now divorced, she still missed them. Funny, since she’d just seen them in Verona. Though it had been a crazy few days, in the end, she had to admit, she’d had fun with them.
The old lady smiled at her. “This young woman was kind enough to help me off the train,” she explained to her family, then squeezed Diana’s hand affectionately. “Enjoy your time in Vienna! And oh, yes. . .” She leaned in and whispered in a conspiratorial way, “Since you don’t know where you’re headed, and since you’re a music lover, go that way.”
Diana followed her pointed finger down the busy street. She could make out a few historic buildings mixed in with the modern ones, and statues of various historic and mythological figures, everywhere. There was so much to look at, she wasn’t sure what to see first. Meanwhile, travelers from all over flanked them on the wide sidewalk. “That way?”
“Yes. I think you will like what you stumble upon.” She winked.
“All right. Thank you!” Diana said as the family walked away, leaving her alone in the shadow of the station.
She shivered. It was definitely colder here than it had been in Verona. Her overbearing ex, ...
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