Few things could break Schroeder's concentration, even as a teenager, yet even over the strains of Beethoven's Emperor Concerto, his sharp ears caught the gait of his girlfriend in the hallway. Although he did not pause in his playing (he had a recital coming up in a few days), he looked up as Lucy entered, and he noticed at once a sparkle in her eye, as if she were bursting to tell him a secret.
"I'm almost done," he said in greeting as she neared. "This is the last movement."
Lucy's smile widened, still mysterious. Reaching him, she ran a hand over his blond hair before she planted a kiss on his fair cheek like she normally did, but instead of taking one of the living-room chairs to wait, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders.
"Guten Tag, mein Schatz," she beamed. "Hast du mich vermisst?"
Still playing, he asked, "Warum sprichst du heute Deutsch?"
Lucy blinked at him a few times.
He translated, "I said, 'Why are you speaking German today?'"
"Oh, I haven't gotten that far in my lessons yet," she said with a dismissive wave, sinking onto the bench beside him, close but with enough space for his arm to move comfortably across the keyboard.
Schroeder raised an eyebrow. "And the next obvious question is, 'What lessons?'"
"The lessons my mother signed me up for after school," she replied. "I wanted to wait until I could say a few sweet things before I told you. I can also say 'Du bist sehr süẞ' and 'Du hast wunderschöne Augen' and a few other phrases. My teacher has been very accommodating."
He was reminded of when they were kids and she had started taking piano lessons in order to get his attention, except now, instead of weathering through her attempts to woo him, he welcomed her sweet talk with a small smile (although he still rolled his eyes).
"It's good that you want to broaden your horizons, Lucy," he said with an approving glance. "What brought that on?"
"Beethoven."
Schroeder stopped playing and twisted toward her. "And just like that you have my undivided attention."
Lucy feigned a (kind of cute) little pout. "Oh, sure! My wonderful presence and sweet kisses and bilingual skills can't get your attention. Only Beethoven."
"You knew that going into this relationship," he pointed out, but he took her hand to show he was only joking (mostly). "So, tell me about your German lessons."
Lucy rose to her feet and took a few light steps over to the bookshelf where Schroeder kept some of his record albums. With a flourish, she selected one with a collection of Beethoven's shorter vocal pieces, which she carried back to Schroeder. She spun it around, pointing to the lists of lyrics.
"A few weeks ago, while you were playing, I decided to look through your records. I noticed all these German lyrics without an English translation, and it suddenly occurred to me that I've been listening to your Beethoven records since I was a little kid, and I still didn't have a clue what any of these songs mean."
Her eyes widened in a playfully self-convicting way.
"That seemed like a miscarriage of justice! How could I, Lucy Van Pelt, be so negligent with my boyfriend now that I finally have his heart? It was unthinkable! It was inconsiderate! It was vulgar! So, I went to Mom and insisted that I needed to start learning German, and so she found me a tutor who sees me twice a week. I already had five lessons so far."
"Five lessons, and you don't know what warum means?"
"We're not on that chapter yet."
She looped her arm around his, nestling against him. Scanning the text, she suddenly pointed to one title.
"I understand that one! Der Kuss — The Kiss." She gave Schroeder a knowing look. "Do you know what it's about?"
"Sure," he answered. With his eyes on the lyrics, he laid his hands on the piano again and played from memory. As he went through the whimsical music, he explained the text: "A young man is alone with a girl and wants to kiss her, but she warns she will scream if he does. He dares to anyway, and he says she did scream — but much later."
He skipped ahead and played the final notes which formed the punchline.
She grinned. "And you're sure that was by Beethoven?"
"He had a sense of humor, you know." He tilted his head, reflecting. "Though I think he only composed music for an already existing poem."
"That explains it."
"I'll have to double check through my notes. The WoO pieces aren't talked about as extensively as his other works, unfortunately, so sometimes I have to scour libraries and bookstores for relevant information."
She covered her mouth with faux surprise. "You mean you don't have every last detail of his life memorized ten times over?"
"I'm only human, Lucy."
"I'm glad." She returned to the album, pointing to another title. "And Ich küsse Sie — I kiss you."
"Oh, that's not even a minute long." Once again, he started playing, singing the German words. "Ich küsse Sie, drücke Sie an mein Herz! Ich, der Hauptmann, der Hauptmann. — 'I kiss you and press you to my heart! I, the captain! The captain!'" he added in explanation.
"Captain?"
"Ich, der Hauptmann — I believe he wrote it for Anna Milder-Hauptmann, who was his favorite soprano. She was supposed to sing for his 1808 benefit concert, but they had a falling out, and Beethoven replaced her with a singer who ended up having stage fright on the big day."
"Was Anna another one of his failed romances?"
"No, I'm pretty sure they were just friends."
"Moving on then," Lucy said, pretending to be bored. She pursued the album sleeve, her finger gliding down the words before she tapped on one line. "Ich liebe dich — I love you."
"Does your mother know she's paying for you to flirt with your boyfriend?"
"You ask too many questions sometimes." She turned to him. "So, do you know what it says?"
"That's Zärtliche Liebe, another poem which Beethoven set to music, by a pastor named Karl Friedich Wilhelm Herrosee."
Lucy batted her eyes at him. "You sure do like to show off around me, don't you?"
He rolled his eyes, not unkindly. "Anyway, the poem is about how the speaker and the one he loves share sorrow, and how they comfort each other, and then he says a blessing for God to protect and keep her."
"That's cute." She took his arm and snuggled against him. "You know, for a guy who says too many love songs is like eating too much ice cream, your hero sure wrote a lot of them."
"Who am I to challenge Beethoven?"
He at once started up the dreamy melody of the piece, and Lucy adjusted herself to allow his arm to move comfortably. She nodded along, closing her eyes with approval.
"That's the kind of song a girl could walk down the aisle to," she noted casually, but she peered at Schroeder through her lowered eyelids with a sly gleam.
He did not take the bait, since he knew she was just being playful, but he favored her with a slight nudge of his elbow to show he acknowledged her suggestion. (He was of the opinion that a lot of wedding music could be improved with more Beethoven, a stance which he might prove someday with his own nuptials, depending on how things went.) Once he completed the piece, Lucy rewarded him with a soft applause.
"Did Beethoven write other romantic songs?" she asked.
"Oh, a few," he replied, giving the record sleeve a quick scan. Seeing nothing that matched what Lucy wanted, he added, "I got some of them on other albums. Remind me later, and we can go through them."
"And now for the more important question." Lucy slid closer and fluttered her eyelashes. "How come you didn't tell me about these Beethoven works years ago?"
Schroeder snorted. "And give you ammunition?"
"That's fair," she conceded. She tilted her head. "And how do you feel about me knowing they exist now?"
"I always support you learning about Beethoven, Lucy."
"Is that all?"
"Well, it means we have more to talk about, right?" he pointed out with a smile.
"Oh, hours and hours!" she declared. "I think it's an excellent compromise for us as a couple: romance and Beethoven! I might know all those songs by heart in a few months."
"You're awfully pretty when you talk like that."
"Just wait. I can get downright gorgeous," she smirked.
Schroeder chuckled and raised a hand to slide his knuckles gently down her cheek before he gave her a gentle pat.
"Now, let me practice, and we can talk more about those Beethoven songs later."
Lucy did not move. She gave him a coy smile. "Zuerst ich möchte dich küssen, bitte."
"You know, your mother is going to demand a refund for those lessons if you keep this up," he delivered dryly, but nevertheless he leaned forward and accepted her kiss.
THE END