Chapter Twelve
Hermann Hauptmann stared down at his hands. Then he looked up at Loreen Stenke, eyeing her blankly for several seconds. His mouth twitched, and he finally spoke. “But I…”
Stenke nodded her head slowly. “So you see, Hermann, it simply won’t work out…not on this occasion. This memorial concert for Maestro Hauptmann…it must be a very dignified affair. He was, after all, a great man. It’s not that I don’t understand your feelings on this matter.”
“I’m not at all sure you do understand,” he said slowly.
“Of course I do. We’ve both suffered a horrible loss, Hermann. I realize that it was your brother who was taken from us so suddenly and unexpectedly, but he was my friend as well.”
“That is difficult to believe,” Hermann said quietly.
Stenke’s eyes flashed. “I don’t appreciate your insinuation, Hermann. I never claimed to be close to Maestro Hauptmann personally, but I respected him a great deal…as a colleague and a fine conductor.”
“That is not the point. It is important that I honor my brother’s passing. And you have made promises…on other occasions.”
“I’ve always been open to considering your work, Hermann. You know how much I respect you.”
“Where is the evidence of that respect?”
“Hermann, listen to me. I believe it’s important that you play a role in this memorial concert. I want you to give a speech…a little pre-concert talk…in which you can say anything you want to about your brother.”
Hermann was silent for several seconds. “Anything? Am I allowed to say anything I choose to say?”
“Of course, Hermann. I know how much your brother meant to you.”
“Thank you.”
“We are on the same side, Hermann. We are both grieving. It is important that we grieve together.”