“I’m not exactly sure,” she said. “I think mymutterpurchased it around thirty years ago.”
“He would have been working at Blüthner then, but there were other piano makers.” He rubbed his chin. “It’s nice to think that he might have made this one.”
She looked at him, his face turned somber.He’s asked many questions about mymutter, but I’ve made little effort to learn about his family.Her chest tightened. “It was insensitive of me not to inquire about your parents. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” he said.
“Would you consider it to be intrusive of me if I asked what happened to them?”
“Nein.”
She patted the space on the bench next to her.
Nia, still lying on her back from her belly rub, peered with her head upside down toward Anna.
He sat and took a deep breath. “My parents, Katarina and Franz, were originally from Vienna, but they moved to Leipzig when myvaterbegan his career as a piano maker. They were on holiday, celebrating their wedding anniversary in Kotor, a coastal town in Montenegro, when war was declared.”
Anna clasped her hands.
“Instead of fleeing Kotor, they volunteered to help with refugees from Bosnia and Herzegovina, who were also coming back home from holiday. A few weeks later, in August of 1914, they boarded an Austro-Hungarian passenger ship called theBaron Gautsch.” He paused, running a hand through his hair. “On the voyage from Kotor, the ship ran into a minefield laid by the Austro-Hungarian Navy.”
Her skin turned cold.
“One hundred and twenty-seven passengers and crew members died in the sinking of the ship, including my parents.”
“Oh, my God,” she whispered.
He swallowed. “My parents’ bodies were never recovered.”
Her heart ached. She placed a hand on his arm. “I’m so sorry.”
He nodded.
She slid her hand to her lap.
“They were wonderful parents,” Max said. “Mymutterwas a singing teacher who occasionally performed at the Leipzig Opera. Myvater, of course, played the piano. Our home was filled with laughter and song.”
“They sound lovely,” she said.
A smile formed on his face. “My earliest memories were of Vater teaching me to play scales, while Mutter sang along in her beautiful mezzo-soprano voice.”
“I now understand why you pursued becoming a pianist and composer,” Anna said.
He nodded. “My parents supported my musical aspirations, but they never forced me to practice. I played the piano because I loved it. And after my first childhood recital, I knew that I wanted to be a professional pianist.”
“What happened?”
“People applauded.” He peered toward the ceiling, as if he were replaying memories in his mind. “I felt immense satisfaction to give others joy.”
Anna smiled.
“I practiced every day, and as I improved my piano skills, mymutterbegan to tell me that I was destined to perform at the Great Hall of the Musikverein in Vienna. Have you ever been there?”
“Nein,” Anna said. “What is it like?”
“Perfect acoustics,” Max said. “It’s one of the finest concert halls in the world. And it’s incredibly beautiful, with towering ceilings ornately decorated in gold.” He looked toward her. “Someday, you need to go there.”
“I will,” she said, wondering if a postwar German Empire would provide her the opportunity to experience such luxuries.
