Mozart's Sister by Nancy Moser Read Free Book Online

He was clapping too.
    I'd gotten my chance to perform. Papa was proud of me.
    The world was good and right. I would hold on to this moment
forever.

    We got paid, and it was good pay too, Papa said. One hundred
florins from the elector and seventy-five from the duke. Best of all,
the money took care of our bills. The inn cost forty-seven florins.
That left us a profit of one hundred twenty-eight florins-Papa
made us do the math. I got it right first. Wolfie said "twelve." He
was good at math, but when he didn't want to be bothered, he said
"twelve."
    Then we were on our way to Augsburg, the town where Papa
grew up. Papa never said much about his childhood. An hour out
of Munich I wondered about that.
    "Papa?"
    He sat across from me, making notations in his diary-he'd
made me start a diary too, but I couldn't write in the jostling carriage like he could.
    "Papa?" I asked again.

    With a sigh he looked up. "I'm busy, Nannerl."
    "I was just wondering if we are going to meet any of your family
when we're in Augsburg. Do they know we're coming? Will they
come hear-?"
    He snapped his diary shut, and Mama leaned forward and put a
hand on my knee. What had I said?
    "We will not meet my family, and I'm sure if they find out about
your concerts, they will purposely stay away."
    There was so much anger in his voice. "But why?" I asked. "Isn't
our grandmother still living? I'd like-"
    "I don't care what you'd like, young lady. Children should not
dig up what is better buried." He opened his diary. "Now, leave me
be."
    I wanted to cry. Why was he so angry at his own mother? I
wanted to meet her. I wanted to meet all the Mozart familyespe-
cially since our own family was so small. We should have been a
family of seven brothers and sisters, yet all but Wolfie and I had died.
    Mama patted my knee. She nodded slightly to Papa beside her,
put a finger to her lips, and mouthed, "Later."
    Good. Mama would tell me. I'd hear the truth from Mama.

    That night at the inn, while Papa worked with Wolfie on his
violin, Mama asked me if I'd like to go for a walk. When she added
"So we can talk" I hoped she would tell me about the Augsburg
Mozarts.
    We put on our bonnets and set out alone. It was a warm June
evening and we didn't need a shawl. The sun was just beginning to
set, so I knew our time was limited. Mama had taught me that
women were not to be out walking unaccompanied in the dark.
    As we moved past the edge of the inn, I didn't say anything. I
wanted Mama to bring the subject forward.
    And she did. "You asked about the Augsburg Mozarts...
    "Papa was angry."
    "He has a right to be."
    We walked past a store selling books. Mama pointed to the sign. "Your grandfather and his father were bookbinders"

    I hadn't known that. "I love books."
    She nodded but went on. "Your father could have joined them
in the business, but ... they wanted him to become a priest."
    I started to laugh, then put a hand to my mouth. "Papa? A
priest?"
    "It was not what he wanted either." She smiled. "Nor what he
was suited for."
    "They're angry at one another for that?"
    "They did not understand his passion for music."
    I lifted my skirt and stepped over some horse-dirty in the street.
"But if he had not become a musician, we would not ..."
    Mama put an arm around my shoulders. "He pursued what was
in his heart. That ... and me."
    It took me a moment to understand. "They didn't approve of
your marriage?"
    She shook her head. "My family was poor. When your father
and I fell in love, his father was dead, and his mother had remarried.
And your father's siblings ... they argued a lot"
    "Wolfie and I argue sometimes."
    "Not like they did." Mama withdrew her arm from my shoulders and I slipped my hand into the crook of her elbow. "I have
never met them."
    "Never?"
    She shook her head. "What distresses your father the most was
that your grandmother withheld money that was due him as the
oldest son."
    Money. Yes, that would upset Papa. "Was it