Free Bantam of the Opera by Mary Daheim Page A

a bat, and a witch. It was almost dark, with the lights of downtown glowing amber in the rain. Two big freighters were tied up in the bay, superferries crisscrossed the water, and a tug was hauling a big barge into port. In the cul-de-sac, Judith saw the headlights of Renie’s car. She shrugged into her coat, picked up her handbag, and started out toward the entry hall. A smile touched her lips as she took one last look around the living room. Warm. Cozy. Peaceful. Mike was content to be away at school, a solution for Gertrude’s dilemma was in the offing, and best of all, she and Joe were married. A sense of serenity came over Judith as she went out through the entry hall.
    It would, of course, not last long.
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    â€œWhat,” demanded Judith with a gasp as she and Renie settled into their front row center seats in the first balcony, “did you and Bill pay for these?”
    â€œWe sold one of the kids,” replied Renie, laying her black raincoat over the plush red chair. “Actually, I hammered out a deal when I designed that symphony brochure last summer. Bill and I weren’t that keen on going to the symphony more than once or twice a year, but we definitely wanted to upgrade our opera seats. I told Maestro Dunkowitz I insisted on having a better view than our orthodontist had. This is it. Dr. Feldman is around the corner, to your left, second row. Ha-ha.”
    Judith cast a discreet glance in Dr. Feldman’s direction. He, like several of the other men in the boxes, was wearing a tuxedo. Judith couldn’t imagine Bill Jones, who taught his university classes in a sport shirt and wash-pants, going to such bother. She said so to Renie.
    â€œYou’re right,” agreed Renie. “On the other hand, Dr. Feldman wears his tuxedo when he works on his patients.” Seeing Judith’s startled look, she laughed. “I’m kidding, but believe me, he could afford to. Not only is he raking it in as an orthodontist, but his wife is a throat specialist. In fact, she’s the family star, or so Feldman tells me. Pretty, too.” Renie nodded in the Feldmans’ direction.
    â€œAt least you’re past the braces stage now,” said Judith, taking in Mrs. Feldman’s black shoulder-length hair, classic profile, and chic white evening gown. “So am I, thank God. I guess you finish off with teeth just in time to start with college.”
    â€œHow true,” agreed Renie, glancing through her program. The opera house, which was located at the bottom of Heraldsgate Hill only five minutes away from Hillside Manor, was rapidly filling up. The rich paneling gleamed under the houselights; the heavy red curtain shrouded the stage; the murmur of three thousand voices echoed around them. The air of anticipation was tangible. Not only was this the opening night of the season, but serious opera lovers knew how rare it was to hear two singers of the first magnitude perform on the local stage. Judith had not been in the opera house for years. Wryly, she noted that it had changed considerably less than she had.
    A wave of applause broke out as Maestro Dunkowitz stepped up to the podium. A moment later, the poignant strains of the prelude filled the opera house. Judith sat back to enjoy an exceptional musical treat.
    As the curtain parted to reveal a handsomely decorated Paris salon of the 1840s, the orchestra shifted gears into Verdi’s mood of revelry. A glittering chandelier hungabove a long table set with crystal and china. Silver epergnes perched at each end, while in the middle a floral arrangement of exotic blooms held sway. Second Empire furnishings in rich green and blue velvet reposed against a backdrop of tall, arched windows. Half of the chorus was greeting the other half, while Inez Garcia-Green, in layers of white tulle, glided across the stage to welcome the mezzo-soprano. The mood on stage was festive, and Judith caught herself tapping her foot. Inez’s