Captain Von Trapp angrily stormed about his study, frowning as he held his folded finger to the crown of his upper lip. Frustration creased his brow, and he felt his mouth twitch in an irksome grimace.
Darn that woman, this, so called "governess". So frustrating, so defiant and unwavering. She couldn't obey a direct order, wouldn't follow the rules he set in his own house. Horribly irksome, that woman. This wouldn't work out; it could never work. What more rules would she start to break? How long would it be until she was running his own ship?
House, he reminded himself sternly, pausing and frowning at the opposing wall. House. This isn't the ship.
But it could very well be one. A man's house is his ship, and I am the captain of this ship.
Now he turned back to the phone sitting on his desk, waiting to be used. The Captain started towards it, confidence growing fast in him.
If I give her an inch, she'll take a mile; I can't let this happen.
So he grasped the phone, dialing the number of the abbey. He paused, waiting for a few rings until an aged voice answered from the other end.
"Yes? Hello?" it voiced, warbled from the phone.
"This is Captain Von Trapp. To whom am I speaking?" he asked as patiently as he could, though he did not try to hide the firmness in his tone.
"Oh! Captain Von Trapp! We did not expect to hear from you this soon." On the other end, it sounded like a few pages were being shuffled around. "Did Maria reach you? Has she not showed up? We expected her to reach your home around this time. . ."
"Oh, no, she's here," he reassured, struggling to restrain himself at the thought of that horrid, impossible woman.
The nun sounded confused from the other side. "Oh. Then there seems to be a problem." She didn't say these as questions, but as statements, almost as if this were expected.
The mere thought made the Captain grind his teeth in uncontrollable disbelief. "W-Were you expecting this?" He recalled the way the fraulein had rebuffed his question explaining how 'much more' trouble she was at the abbey. Did they intentionally drop her in his lap so they would be rid of her? The nerve!
A sigh from the other end, "Oh, Maria has always had a flair of . . .being herself. We were just hoping that it wouldn't show itself until later and not so soon. . ." Her voice drifted off while the Captain's hand tightened around the phone. So it was true!
"Well, I'm sorry to inform you that your thoughts were true; Fraulein Maria will be unable to stay here," he coldly decided. "I'll lend her the money to return to the abbey."
She sighed again. "Very well, if that is what you wish, Captain, then so be it. Will that be all?"
"Yes. Thank you." He prepared to hang up, halting when he heard her voice continue.
The voice went on a little, "Though I do not believe this will sit very well with Maria. She-oh but you wouldn't want to know about that, excuse me."
The captain was silent for a moment or two. Finally he found his voice. "What is it?"
The nun sighed tiredly. "Maria came to us as a young woman a few years ago, after her father was trying to encourage (force is the more accurate word) for her to marry a more wealthy man. She refused and he cast her out of the house." Her voice lowered in sadness. "She had to leave her younger siblings, and later her father went out to sea – he was a fisherman you see, a captain of his own ship- and drowned in a sudden storm. She never was able to mend their relationship." The voice sadly sighed again. Inside, Georg felt his heart twitch strangely in his chest.
Sympathy? Is that what this was? Did he feel sympathy for this young woman who just came into his house? How could he feel anything but distaste towards her after the way she so flamboyantly disregarded his rules and standards of the way he ran things?
Yet, he still did.
She continued on wearily and he started back to attention, "Leaving the children will break her heart, but if she's too much for you to handle, we will await for her to come home. We thank you anyway for this opportunity for her, even if it lasted a short-"
"No wait," he interrupted, voice firm but unable to believe that he was actually allowing himself to think these things. He sighed quietly, hoping she couldn't hear his defeat from the other line. "I suppose she deserves a second chance. It is what the good Lord asks of us, isn't it?"
The voice was calm from the other end, "Yes, Captain, it is what He asks of us."
The Captain sighed again, "Then she will stay here for now, on her second chance."
"I'm very pleased to hear that," she responded from the other end.
"Yes. Well then, good day," he murmured, and with a click, hung up on the telephone.
Just one chance, and that's it. Another mistake and she leaves.
(**)
The Captain stared at her, short hair ruffled from running around her room, singing and dancing with his children. He felt his eyes squint at her in disapproval as she sassed answers at him, holding a hidden smirk on her face while she attempted to remain respectful in front of him.
"Only in thunderstorms, sir," she responded, and something in him twitched again irritably.
Impossible, immovable, unwavering and ultimately frustrating. This could never work, never. She was too defiant, too headstrong.
But she looked at him so clearly, so determined, that he saw himself reflected back in her.
He held back his temper, sighing softly before her looked at her quietly and allowed her off again for this one time.
Just one more chance, and that's it, he vowed.