“It’s a little too early to talk. Nothing is definite, but my sister-in-law’s letters in the last two weeks are filled with this miracle, as she calls it.”
Mr. Lurie was interested and Uncle Yahn went on to explain. “A close friend of my poor brother managed to escape to America before it was too late. It was my brother who insisted that he get out. He was unmarried,” Uncle Yahn went on, “and could take the risks and he did. After many hair-raising experiences, he reached America and because he knew someone in Chicago, he went there. He got a job as a waiter in a restaurant. The rest is like a fairy tale. He met a man, a customer in the restaurant. They became acquainted, drawn together by the love of music. This stranger offered him a job. No, not as a musician but as a worker in his plastic factory. Now comes the fairy tale. After ten years, he is now a partner and rich! A few months ago he came to New York on business. He stopped in at Ditson’s to buy some music. Karl’s mother works there. They met. You can imagine the scene! He insists upon providing for Karl’s musical education. He says it is only justice!”
“And now?” Mr. Lurie asked.
“If Karl will put his music before everything else, put himself in Mr. Werther’s hands, his future is assured! He will have the best teachers, study abroad.”
“But why abroad?” Mr. Lurie interrupted. “We have the finest schools and teachers right in America.”
“That is true,” Uncle Yahn conceded, “but Mr. Werther received his training in Vienna. He feels that with the stamp of European approval, Karl will achieve recognition so much sooner.” He smiled and shrugged his shoulders. “The decision need not be made for a year, perhaps two. Karl finishes high school in a year. Then it will be up to him.”
The steak was finished and placed on a platter. There was laughter and anecdotes and beer. Judy mechanically chewed a piece of steak, her eyes staring at some far-off place. Why did this busybody of a rich man have to come and snatch Karl away just when she was getting to—she hesitated to name her feeling—like him so much.
She glanced at Karl. He looked untroubled and was enjoying himself. So was Uncle Yahn. She was worrying needlessly. It was only talk—Isn’t that what Uncle Yahn said? The decision need not be made for a year or two. So much could happen! Karl might prefer to go to the Curtis Music School in Philadelphia or David Mannes right in New York. Anything was better than having an ocean between them!
If she studied like mad, she could be through with school and college in six years—be equipped to teach—earn money—six interminable years! And why college, she argued with herself. Many clever people never—
“You’ve hardly touched the good meat on your plate,” Uncle Yahn observed, gently nudging her. “Dreaming instead of eating! That’s not what makes a nice, plump young lady.”