“And you became an opera singer after that.”
She gave an unladylike snort. “Not quite ‘just like that.’ After I finished my song, no one spoke, they just sat there and stared at me. I knew that I didn’t know how to pronounce the Italian words properly, but I didn’t think my singing was too bad, so I was hurt when they said not a word.”
She paused a moment, remembering that most eventful day in her life. “After what seemed like forever, my mother turned to my father and said, ‘Jeffrey, in the morning you are to leave here, go east, and find my daughter a teacher—a singing teacher. A real teacher. The best teacher that money can buy. My daughter is going to be an opera singer.’ After she said that, the dam broke. Everybody started whooping and my father put me on his shoulders and—”
“His incredibly broad shoulders?”
“As a matter of fact, yes. It was the most wonderful night of my life.”
“Oh? None of your hundreds of men since then have equaled the experience?”
“Not even close.”
“And I guess your father got your teacher. I can’t imagine he ever failed at anything. Madame what-was-her-name?”
“He was gone for months, and when he returned, he had this thin, sour-looking woman with him. I disliked her immediately, and I almost hated her when my mother welcomed her and the little woman ignored my mother. Madame Branchini said, ‘Let me hear this child and see if she is worth all I have gone through.’ Behind her, I could see my father grimacing and I knew she must have been a trial to him on the trip.”
“But she heard you sing and she agreed to stay with you forever and teach you everything you know.”
“Not exactly. In fact, you couldn’t be further from the truth. She had me play the piano—by then my father had brought me one from the East—and—”
“Did he haul it in on his back?”
“And so I played the piano for her and sang a bit.” She stopped and shook her head. “I was a vain little thing. I had been adored by my family and told that I was the best singer in the world. I believe I thought that Madame Branchini was honored to get to hear me sing.”
“I’m glad you’re so different now. None of this telling people that they’d be privileged to hear a singer of ‘your caliber.’ ”
“I have earned it now. Back then I was a child who was vain without any reason for her vanity. Now I but speak the truth. You have heard me sing. Have I ever lied or even exaggerated about my voice?”
“No,” he said honestly. “That is the one thing you haven’t lied about.”
“But that day I was lying to myself. Looking back, I must have been dreadful, really dreadful. The raw talent was there, of course.”
“Of course.”
“But that day I did not get praise as I did from my family. I finished singing my little song and looked up at Madame Branchini with expectation. I expected praise, even hugs. If the truth were told, I expected her to fall to her knees in gratitude at being privileged to hear me sing. Instead, she did not say a word. She turned on her heel and left the room. Of course, my parents and the rest of my family were standing just outside the door. I think they, too, were expecting her to praise their precious daughter. I think that in order to get Madame there, my father had praised my talent rather lavishly.”
“He would.”
“Yes, he would. But Madame Branchini did not praise me. Instead, she told my family that I was lazy and spoiled and that I was much too vain to do anything with. She told my father he had to take her back to New York immediately, that he had wasted his time and hers on this worthless child.”
’Ring turned his head to look at her.
“Yes, difficult to believe, isn’t it? But she knew what she was doing. Everyone started talking at once, with my father telling her she had to at least stay the winter and the others telling her that she had a tin ear. I stood in the doorway and listened, and it was all quite gratifying to my young heart. How dare the old crow say that I had no talent? Why, I was going to be the greatest singer in all the world. I imagined her coming backstage after a performance and begging my forgiveness for ever doubting me.”
Maddie pulled out another thorn and chuckled. “Thank heaven that even at that tender age I had some sense. It quite suddenly occurred to me to wonder how I was going to become an opera singer. Was Mrs. Benson going to teach me? Was I going to learn on my own? Was I going to wait until I was an adult and go east and then start training? What was I going to do in the meantime? In the few years that Mrs. Benson had been with me, I had realized that the thing I liked best in the world was singing. I sang all the time, wherever I was, whatever I was doing.”
Maddie took a breath. “I made the most important decision of my life at that moment. I suddenly realized that Madame Branchini was right and I was lazy. I went to her and asked her to please teach me. She refused. I went on my knees to her and begged her to teach me.”
She paused and stared for a moment, unseeing. “My family hated my begging. They all hated Madame. My father tried to pull me off the floor, but after her continued refusal to give me what I wanted, I was trying to kiss her feet.”
’Ring looked back at her. He couldn’t imagine her groveling.
She smiled at him. “I would have done anything to be able to sing, and this woman was the key to what I wanted.”
“She relented,” he said softly.
“Oh, yes, she did, but only after I’d promised to be her slave. My family didn’t like it, but I think I had an idea of what was necessary. She stayed with us for seven years, and she taught me what I know. It was difficult.”