Yesterday Was Long Ago: Part Two Read online

  “I have to admit, everyone thought the world of him and his family. Consider yourself lucky as usually one doesn’t like the other,” Erika said, holding Isabella’s hand and turning it. “That is quite some diamond!”

  “I think so too. But I had to promise him never to question him where and how he got it. Between us, that wheeler-dealer Phil Feingold probably got it somehow. But since the black market is punishable in a military court, neither I or any of you can ever let on.”

  “As far as we are concerned, he got it from America,” Peter answered.

  “God, what will his parents say?”

  “William told me that his father thought you were too good for him and his mother compared you to a blooming rosebud, who would wilt from being homesick. I told him there are ships and planes to visit us.

  “The main thing is you love each other,” Erika voiced. “Look what Peter and I went through … and we are still together.”

  “And in love,” Peter replied quickly.

  “It all came so fast to me, though he told me he planned it from the day he first saw me.”

  “Isabella, we are all taking a week of well-deserved vacation. Andreas will take over for that time.”

  “Me too?”

  “I said all of us, which means you too.”

  “Thanks a lot Uncle Peter. It gives me the needed time to think about our future.”

  “Don’t change your mind,” Erika and Peter laughed.

  “Why would I do such a foolish thing?” she replied, amused. “I know a good man when I see one, and he is the first.”

  34

  Kathryn McAllister was in bed with a severe migraine. Even pain pills and an assortment of tranquilizers had no effect. She was in a state of depression, her husband told his brother Bill, who only shrugged it off. “What else is new? She will get over it.” As they stayed during the week in New York in their own brownstone house between Madison and Park Avenue, they hoped by their return Friday evening it would have somewhat subsided. The reason for all the excitement was William’s telegram stating not only his engagement to Isabella, but a forthcoming marriage in the very near future.

  “Without his parents,” she sobbed uncontrollably. “Don Reed, God bless his soul, would have never done that to his family.”

  “You can say that again,” her daughter Barbara fumed. She was supposed to calm her distraught mother, but poured gasoline on the burning fire. Having never met William’s chosen one, but hearing a few words about her, mostly via Uncle Bill, she hated her already. “It messes our family tree up. Just take a look at it, Mother,” she insisted, propping a third pillow under her head. “Our ancestors would turn in their graves with a name like Reinhardt. How much more German can a name sound?”

  “Austrian, Barbara.”

  “They are all Krauts, if you ask me. I read they were not an iota better than any other German. They just try to wiggle themselves out of it, that’s all.” Kathryn had to agree, but explained the Reinhardts’ situation.

  “So what if they hid some prisoners? There were no Americans among them. Just think about it.”

  “Barbara, they never cared for nationality. Anyone who needed help got it.”

  She didn’t have a good retort but brought her mother something to drink. “Mother, I have given up alcohol completely.”

  “I am so proud of you, dear. I wish I could.”

  “Mother, I have a great idea. We won’t tell anyone about it. Maybe they will break up. You know William. He has had women by the dozen, and I mean had them, if you know what I mean.”

  “I do, Barbara, but somehow I always blamed those easy and willing girls.”

  “Don’t forget, William is a hell of a good-looking guy, if I do say so myself. And with our money on top of it … they all had their hopes up,” Barbara snarled again.

  “That is so very sad. In my time, it was quite different. If I had had a lover prior to my marriage, your father would have had it annulled or divorced me. One waited for the wedding night.”

  “So did I, Mother,” Barbara lied, but Kathryn never doubted her daughter for a moment. But since the return of her husband from the war, Steve McBride was a changed man. She blamed the French girls for it, as he was stationed in Paris after the city’s liberation. Now her once decent husband wanted all kinds of kinky sex, and she gave him an unmistakable ‘no’ to his perverted advances, as she confided to her friend Beverly. Her parents were, of course, kept in the dark, as she took it as a passing fancy, still holding the war and France responsible for it.

  “Some of those tramps even date colored soldiers, I was told by Beverly. But to me, all of those European women are on the low side. Even being rich doesn’t mean one thing.”

  “I never heard of a colored man dating a white woman, but being rich doesn’t mean much in our country either. If it did, how come William had so many women? I am sure he never went on the wrong side of the tracks.”

  Barbara had to agree, and as always, went to another subject, this one concerning their family album. “Look, Mother. Every name starts with a ‘Mc’ with the exception of Huntington, Lanceworth, and Wingfields - all fine Englishmen.”

  “Well, some may have had mistresses. It was quite fashionable when one was rich,” Kathryn replied harshly.

  “Well, it’s October now and until May lots of changes may occur.”

  “Possibly, Barbara, but I have seen the young lady. Dear Lord, if she were only English.”

  ∼

  Over the weekend, with Don and Uncle Bill arriving, Barbara was still there and both men wondered why. “Don’t neglect Steve. He is your husband and should always come first,” her father admonished firmly.

  “Right now, Mother needs me more and Steve said he understands.”

  “Now that we are here, why don’t you come back Monday? That is, if she still needs you,” Uncle Bill added.

  “If you say so. And there is another thing, Uncle Bill. Get William out of your will. That woman may be a gold digger, divorce him and take the money with her.”

  He was so furious at her statement that he decided right then and there to write a new will and leave her out of it. “The way I see it, Barbara, they have a hell of a lot more than we do, and that includes their character,” Bill fumed while pouring himself some scotch.

  After she left to go home to Steve, who was nowhere to be found, Kathryn lamented about the cheap ring ‘the Baroness’ may have gotten from William. “Don, I’ll bet you anything he got it through the black market. He probably took that Jewish fellow from Stuttgart with him. He is a jeweler, you know.”

  “Most Jews are, and quite good at it too.”

  “You don’t understand, Don. A ring for this lady has to come from Tiffany in a little blue box or it won’t be right,” she urged grandly. “All of our jewelry is bought there. You and Bill should know that much by now.”

  Don only shook his head and joined his brother for a drink. When he told him about his wife’s great worry about a diamond which had to come from Tiffany in a blue box, Bill smiled and said, “Come with me, brother.”

  Kathryn was still turning the pages of her socially correct family album. “Don said you were worried about the proper ring for William’s fiancée.”

  “That’s only one of the things.”

  “Let me tell you, Kathryn, right after he took us to the airport, he returned to Salzburg and asked her mother for her hand in marriage.”

  “But he barely knew her.”

  “You surely remember when he told us of his intentions.”

  “Frankly, Bill, I did not take him seriously,” she admitted.

  “You should have because William never told us anything like it previously. Isn’t that right Kathryn? Or I would have heard about it too.”

  “Well… the way things stood in our household, you may have been the first one he talked to about it.”

  “And he did,” he replied proud and promptly.

  “So what about the ring? Or a
re you just assuming, Bill?”

  “I never assume anything, but her mother dealt with one of the best jewelers in Salzburg and he got Isabella Reinhardt … are you ready?” he stalled to keep her for a moment in suspense.

  “Ready as I will ever be. Come on, Bill.”

  “He got her a twenty-six carat diamond. How about it Kathryn? You think he could have done better at Tiffany’s? I received a letter from William via an officer who flew to New York and mailed it to me,” he replied smugly.

  “And we two were kept in the dark,” she pouted like a child.

  “You two got a telegram. I didn’t.”

  “So how could he have possibly paid for that kind of ring?”

  “I gave him several thousand dollars, sort of a pre-inheritance. After all, it’s now when he needed it,” Bill said very modestly. “We talked frequently in the hotel while you both were napping,” he grinned. “And I always preferred William to your Don Reed. I liked the one, but loved the other and never took to Barbara. Now you can tell me to move out of your premises,” he said nonchalantly and walked away.

  There was a long silence until Kathryn said, “I am getting out of bed and fixing myself a drink.”

  “Make that two, Kathryn. No, three. I’ll call Bill back and we’ll have a toast to William and his wife to be.”

  “Barbara and I decided not to talk to anyone about it until he returns with her.”

  “Great idea.”

  35

  Captain Sheila Brown took the day off work and her new date felt something was very wrong.

  “You had an affair with him,” he confronted her firmly a few hours later.

  “So what?”

  “It’s alright, but are you still in love with him?”

  “No, just mad because he dumped me for someone with money.”

  “That’s all I wanted to know, Sheila. Now let’s set our own wedding date.”

  “You mean it?”

  “Would I ask you otherwise?”

  “I hope not, Allen. We both were married before and know what’s it all about.”

  “Sheila, you make me feel like a man again. You are the best piece I ever had.”

  She turned red and showed him the door. “Get out, you filthy bastard. You are just like the rest of them. Once you have a woman in the sack, somehow she loses her value.”

  “What else is there?” he smirked, and left without a good-bye.

  Sheila went to the Officer’s Club, spread the news about McAllister’s nuptials to a few colleagues she had known previously in Italy, and kept on drinking until someone walked her home, put her to bed and left. The next day, she called the General for a transfer.

  “Take a few days off, Captain Brown,” he advised kindly. “until I get something for you.” A week later, she went to Wels-Upper Austria.

  ∼

  After a short ceremony in Vienna’s civil court, Isabella Reinhardt, formerly Rosatti, became Mrs. William Grant McAllister. Two witnesses were required by law and Dr. Andreas von Walden and his wife, Theresa, were unanimously chosen. Peter would represent his brother in Salzburg and give the bride away.

  Although William suspected Isabella to be a virgin, somehow he was overjoyed that she was. Her engagement to that very handsome pilot, Nico Wiland, made him at times think about it. Usually, before a departure for a long tour during the war, a woman would give in. He had, of course, his own experience in mind. But not Isabella. The wedding night for him was the closest thing to heaven, but he was afraid to ask her about it. He assured her that as time went on, she would feel better about it. She only smiled. “I know that much, William,” she said like a pro, but he knew she had only heard or read about it.

  The honeymoon week went by fast. They invited Peter and Erika to see Puccini’s, La Boheme, and Andreas and Theresa to see Verdi’s Aida, and went for long walks in the Viennese woods with exceptional fall weather. They also went to dinner at the McCains’, with ‘Honey’ doing her own cooking, so the new Mrs. McAllister would know what ‘Southern Style’ was all about. They loved the whole menu.

  Both women cleaned the table, washed the dishes, and chatted non-stop about Isabella’s new country. “God knows when Ian will retire, but I am ready to stay in one place. We always rented or were given places to live, but could never call anything our own.”

  Alone with the General, William admitted his short affair with Sheila, saying that she had wanted to get serious too fast. “I never even once told her I loved her. I would be glad to repeat it in front of her.”

  “That will be impossible. I got her transferred in a hurry to Wels–Upper Austria.”

  “Good,” he said with a sigh of relief. On the way home he told Isabella about Sheila.

  “I figured that one out the first time I saw you together. She was always trying to be so near you that in my mind, I compared her to the leaning tower of Pisa,” she laughed, but was somehow glad she was gone. Former lovers were not to her taste, though she knew he had had many affairs before. She was looking forward to being with him in America, as Vienna had changed drastically for the worse.

  “Are you sure about it, Isabella?” he asked after their arrival home.

  “I took your name and will take your country and religion the same way. It’s all so simple, William, because I love you very much.”

  “Not as much as I love you,” he said quickly in response.

  “As long as you think so.”

  “Not because I think so, but I know so,” he replied convincingly.

  ∼

  General Ian McCain was extremely upset, as he got word that a Major General and his staff were on a fact-finding mission and would arrive the day before the wedding on November 6th. Of course, William and Isabella would have to be there a few days before for the blood test, and whatever else the Americans required. But Ian was afraid the mission would be a drawn-out affair and the wedding in Salzburg would take place without him and Betty.

  “We’ll give a big party here after their return,” Betty soothed, but she knew it would not satisfy Ian.

  “The Reinhardts will go out of their way to make it an event, as she is the former Baroness von Walden’s only daughter. And besides, you’ve never seen Salzburg.”

  “We will be there during spring and summer, darling. November is always a dreary time.”

  “Not for the newlyweds,” he replied, displeased, but there was nothing he could do about it. Duty was duty, that’s all. Betty, however, planned an elaborate party, Southern style, for all her husband’s staff.

  Isabella and William, with all the requirements for a civil wedding behind them, were now told by Gaby and Astrid that they decided to have the wedding ceremony at the castle Mirabell, which had one of the most grandiose staircases with red carpet, and on the upper floor a marble hall strictly reserved for weddings and small concerts. The American chaplain gladly agreed, as it would be his first wedding since the end of the war. Isabella and William were ecstatic.

  “I thought if we were forced to vacate our own castle, we may just as well use someone else’s. It’s public property,” Victoria stated to William, to whom she took very slowly and watched his behavior towards Isabella very closely. After all, she had married a handsome and rich man exactly fifty years ago.

  Isabella was overjoyed with her mother’s idea to take Verena’s exquisite wedding gown out of a silk-lined trunk. She had it altered to fit Isabella, whose measurements around the bust and waistline she knew by heart. Her daughter was barely an inch smaller than Gaby herself, who was a few pounds heavier since she left Vienna. But no one would have ever noticed, only she herself. After Isabella tried it on, she decided not to wear the long veil, just the rose wreath all by itself. “I’ll keep my hair long and we’ll pin some little roses in my plait.” All the women agreed happily. After all, she was legally married three weeks ago, and they doubtless lost no time to use the bedroom. However, her wedding gown had to be white at the insistence of all her family.

&nb
sp; “Why did you hurry with your wedding so much? I am sure your parents would have been here by spring,” Gaby questioned again, though Paul was not any different from William’s insistence.

  “Three reasons. First, I couldn’t wait to be with her day and night. Second, someone else may have beat me to it. And third, Mrs. Reinhardt, all sensible men are selfish.”

  “I guess that sums it up,” she smiled, giving him a kiss on each cheek. “Just take good care of her, William.”

  “Just like your husband did. And I know all about him.”

  “I am sure you do. Isabella adores that man and vice versa. And before I forget, William, when you gave me the money for the ring, I also got the matching necklace with it. We Reinhardts always like that at least one thing matches the other so here it is,” she said handing him a black velvet box. William couldn’t believe his eyes when he opened it. A scalloped necklace of marquise round and oval shaped diamonds with a ruby drop was in front of him.

  “Mrs. Reinhardt, I know I owe you plenty. My mother lives for diamonds and I know what my father pays for them, and she doesn’t have anything near this exquisite,” he stammered almost in shock.

  “Don’t forget, one dollar is seventy schillings, William. Everyone is looking desperately for American currency to survive. Did I get a bargain? Yes. Did the jeweler make out all right too? Yes,” she smiled, satisfied. “She will get more of the Reinhardts’ diamonds before she leaves. They don’t like to be outdone when it comes to giving.”

  “I can just see the stares of Mother and her friends.”

  “I like your family, William, and I know they like her too. Everything else is up to both of you.”

  The Reinhardts had the traditional white horses and carriages for friends and family, telling the bridal couple at the last minute that the wedding would not be family only, as too many of the long-time friends of Victoria and Astrid wanted to be there. Then the chaplain, who knew William since the war days, knew he had friends in Salzburg too. So as to keep a fair balance and not leave him the only American among the wedding guests, they were invited also. William, too, had no idea. Every American knew about the Mirabell castle, its famous staircase and marble room; but to be seated there among wedding guests was something else. Since it was for concerts or weddings, one had the choice of a permanent stationed organ or a movable piano.