The harsh wind whipped across her face, causing her eyes to water and screw shut. The wind-induced tears took the same trail as the ones she'd spilled earlier in the Abbey. Trying to avoid attention, she meekly swiped at the tears with her coat, the rough back fabric scratched at her face, undoubtedly irritating her porcelain skin. She peeked around the train station and tried to people watch to pass the time. But, the anxiety over her placement danced around her belly like butterflies in spring. She did not know where she was going - only that she would be the governess to the family's children.
The Mother Abbess, bless her heart, had heard her silent pleas to be freed from the Abbey. To be a nun was always her future. To devote her entire self to the Lord and all of his earthly children was a beautiful future. However, the confines of the small brick abbey was just too suffocating for her. What good were God's trees, if there was no one to climb them. How could anyone truly know beauty without singing alone on a knoll? These were the questions she found herself asking a lot.
She found God in all things; earthly possessions did not attract her. Regardless of her vow of poverty, she had never been a materialistic girl. She enjoyed laughter, she enjoyed sunshine. Sometimes, she even enjoyed the feeling of belonging. To see Sister Jude, her superior and makeshift caretaker, smile from under the large veil was a feeling that only God could give. Some of the Elder Sisters at the Abbey did not agree. They spoke of her in disappointed tones and shameful scoffs. Their disdain for her was obvious, but she paid them no attention. The only people she was to please was the Mother Abbess, Sister Jude, and God.
The bell for the train sounded and she stood quickly. She slung her small bag over her shoulder and boarded the train. She wasn't too aware of the areas around her, but Sister Jude had briefed her she'd escorted from the Abbey the the car that would take her to the station. The Von Winters home was in Salzburg, about four hours from the station. Sister Jude - the only maternal figure she'd ever known, had pressed a medallion in her hand and kissed her gloved knuckles. For just a moment, she'd seen a certain sadness pass over the woman's features. They would definitely meet again - but under what circumstances?
The line for the train formed and she hugged her bag tight against her hip. Granted, it only held one extra habit, her sleep dress, her bible, a rosary, and the medallion of Sancta Caecilia. However, the sentimental value of her meager pack was priceless. All of her possessions had gone to the church, but even the smallest items meant a great deal to her.
She boarded the train and gave the uniformed man her ticket. He took his hat off and nodded to her. She smiled towards him and took the last window seat. It would be a dreadful few hours if she could not gaze at the beautiful mountains. No one sat next to her, so she let her bag sink into the seat next to her. Slowly, she reclined back - testing the cushion of her bench. From there she sat staring out at the group of people left behind and began to pray for her future.
The train roared to life and soon they were charging must faster than she'd ever gone. A tingle formed in her belly, but she gave her fear to God. Thankfully, she'd been too nervous to eat before her journey. After a long while, the mountains faded as the sun went down. Soon, she was lulled to sleep by the hum of the motor under her feet.
She dreamt of the Abbey and Sister Jude. Not that long ago she was a wiry short-haired youth, still jagged from being neglected. The cold had damaged one of her feet permanently, reducing her to a straggly limp for the better side of ten years. Lots of roaming the Abbey and running had improved her gait greatly. Sister Jude had said it was because of the terrible things her Aunt Celeste had done to her. She hadn't talked about it much, but she felt comfortable with the older nun.
Perhaps it was because Sister Jude was the first to find her on the street. She'd been sent to "buy" food from the market, but Aunt Celeste hadn't given her money. She did however, tell a young Mary Eunice not to return until she'd gotten the food. So, she never went back. It was a tough decision but homelessness won out over a beating over not being able to steal.
One day, while trying to ask a charming couple for one groschen, she was knocked down by a couple of children. They tried to beat her, but two strong hands had pulled her out of the rumble. She remembered a wave of safety when a nun came to her rescue. It had all been in God's plan. Or so she believed. Sister Jude had taken her back to the Abbey and together, with the help of the other nuns, raised her until she'd hit adulthood.
As she grew, she realized that she truly was not meant for a solitary life. She thoroughly enjoyed people. She loved talking and learning. Too many times she'd wandered away from the Abbey and gotten lost in the landscape outside. Every time it ended in extra chores and having her guitar take away.
A sharp jerk woke her and out of reflex, she threw two hands out to break her fall against the seat in front of her. A whistle rang through the cabin and people started to rise. Following in suit, she grabbed the railing along the seats and tried her best to stay upright. Perhaps she should have snagged one of the cups of water offered to her.
The cold winter air burned her scratched cheeks and she shut her stinging eyes again. Once her feet hit solid ground, she did a quick sweep of the crowd at the station. No one stood out. Sister Jude had told her that the Mother Abbess had arranged for a car to take her to her new home.
After a few minutes the crowd had significantly thinned; people were pairing off and lovers reunited in loving embraces. For a brief moment, a pang of jealousy sank in her heart. But, she had forsaken all earthly pleasures when she'd taken her final vows. She apologized to God for her moment of weakness and continued her search.
A man in a military uniform stood ramrod in front of a car. She cocked her head sideways and tried to prompt him into speaking first.
"Sister Mary Eunice?" he asked in a quiet baritone.
"Yes." she answered, thankful to have found her point of contact.
"The Captain awaits." he motioned to the back of the car.
She smiled sweetly and slid into the car. The smooth fabric of the seat indicated luxury. She tried her best merely tolerate it. But, after hours of sitting on cement and a train seat, the nice cushion was relaxing. This could possibly be the only time she'd be exposed to something like this, so she tried to revel in it without succumbing totally.
For the second time that night, a she was startled out of a reverie. She scolded herself for losing herself in the scenery on the ride home. The urge to apologize to the driver was there, but it seemed as if he wanted nothing to do for her. Perhaps she'd be able to travel back and appreciate all of the beauty. The car slowed to a stop and for a moment Mary Eunice wondered if they were there yet.
She jumped when the car door opened and a young boy stuck his head into the cabin.
"Hello!" he sang out cordially. "I am Friedrich Von Winters. I was instructed to grab your things and show you to the day room."
A tanned hand reached for her bag, and after a few seconds of panic, Mary Eunice handed it to him. With a boyish skip, he trotted towards the front gate. She turned to thank the driver but he was nowhere to be seen. She turned back and grimaced at all the stairs that were just passed the gate. She assumed they lead to the entrance of the manor. She took two big steps onto the property and steadied herself to walk the hill of stairs.
She stopped for breath once and tried to avoid a leg cramp that threatened her right calf. Once she was at the top, she turned around and looked out at where she'd come from and gasped. The stars glittered against the blanketed navy sky. The mountains poked out in between what looked like clouds and for few minutes, Sister Mary Eunice was speechless. She stared at the stars and wondered if they stared right back. She took in the mountains; their untouched beauty seemed almost too perfect to be real.
"The view is pretty grand," a voice rang out behind her. She turned around quickly, almost too fast as her veil began to slip. "And yes, I am talking about the mountains. Dusk is the golden hour - not much can reduce me to tears but this always will."
She righted it and smiled at the woman now in front of her. Her hair hung in silky earth toned ringlets, framing her cherubic face. When she smiled, Mary Eunice noticed that her lips seemed to shine. She'd take a vow of selflessness, so cosmetics were something unfamiliar to her. They looked very good on the woman though, if she were being honest.
"Are you Sister Mary Eunice?" the woman's voice was detached. She looked far away even though she stood no more than four feet from her.
"I am. I gave my bag to a young man." she started to sweep the grounds to search for the boy.
"Friedrich. Yes, he set it in the day room and has since gone to bed. He seemed excited to meet the new Governess and asked if he could help you. We expected you sooner, but I believe the weather here was not good."
"I actually spent most of the ride asleep, I'm not sure."
"A-ha, even better. Well, welcome to the Von Winters home."
"I appreciate it. You are?"
"Apologies. I am Lana. Lana Von Winters. I am the Captain's wife. He has been called to Vienna for important Government business. So, I am left to attend to the home in his absence. He is to return some time next week. I'm sorry you missed his departure."
"Oh! Pleased to meet you, Fraulein Von Winters. I appreciate you personally coming to greet me." Mary Eunice tried to hide the shiver that overtook her bones. The wind up in the mountains was much colder than back at the Abbey. The woman seemed to understand what was happening and turned back towards the door.
"Let's go inside, shall we? I'll make us some tea." Lana ushered Mary Eunice into the home. "It's unfortunately just about the only thing I can't make."
"It's quite alright. I was in charge of the bakery at the Abbey and I'm quite useful in the kitchen. I took classes in home making as well…" She trailed off once she entered the lavish home.
Mary Eunice had to cover her mouth with her sleeve to silence the gasp that threatened to escape. She'd really only been raised in poverty with Aunt Celeste and then in the Abbey, so to see such grandeur in a home was overwhelming. The first floor fireplace cracked loudly, and a warm haze bathed the whole home in a fuzzy warm tone. It seemed inviting to an extent. It didn't look lived in however. Every single accessory or piece of furniture seemed to have a place. Mary Eunice was nervous to even walk inside onto the ornate floor.
"You'll be staying the maid's quarters. She's been dismissed so there's no reason to let the room go to waste. Besides, I don't think you'll want to share a room with Liesl." Lana putzed around the kitchen, seemingly unaware of where things were. She opened and shut doors with foul language until she found what she was looking for.
"Who is that?" Mary Eunice took a seat at the table. The hard wood of the chair hurt considering she'd been pampered by the bench on the train and the automobile. She shifted back and forth until she found a bearable position.
"The eldest daughter. She's sixteen. Although, she acts as if she'd an old maid with her bemoaning over her lack of romance. She acts as if we are barbarians!"
"She's not betrothed?" Mary Eunice asked casually. She had no idea how matters of the heart worked. Nervously, she fiddled with the ring on her finger. "I'm not very well versed on companionship."
"Von Winters women are not permitted to court until they've reached adulthood. Eighteen. But, she is a good girl and Captain's first daughter. So, I think he'll concede and let her and Rolfe court."
Lana offered Mary Eunice a cup and saucer, which she took with a thankful nod. When was offered sugar, she politely declined. She recited a quiet prayer and looked around casually, taking the the entire mansion - or what she could see of it.
"So, tell me Sister. Why was your Mother so eager to assign you here?" Lana's fingers tapped against the pattern on the rim of her teacup. "We've been through a few governesses, but never a nun."
"The Mother Abbess and Sister Jude decided that I was better not kept in the Abbey. The other Sisters have taken a particular disliking to me. There's a few reasons, but I believe it to be the difference in our ages."
"How old are you?"
"Twenty-eight. Although Sister Ju-"
"Twenty-eight? You look a mere fourteen, Sister. No wonder all the nuns dislike you, they're probably angered by your youthful looks." Lana took a sip of her tea and shot Mary Eunice a pointed look. "Also, you're very pretty for someone who hides behind a veil all day."
"We've taken vows denouncing Vanity," Mary Eunice explained. "I was a few months short of taking my solemn vows. I believe Sister Jude has spoken with God about my future and has foreseen something I have yet to discover."
She chose to ignore the comment on her beauty.
"I see. You're a nun though, correct?" Lana asked.
"I could use the title after completing my Novitiate. I have used the title during my completion of my temporary vows. However, until I take my solemn vows, I would not be considered a Sister of the Dominican order. I can only imagine how confusing it would be to hear all this at once." Sister Mary Eunice blushed at her spew of unnecessary information. "In short, yes. I am a nun."
"It is, but I can tell by the passion in your voice that it's very important to you." Lana stood and motioned for her to hand over her cup. When she took it Mary Eunice thanked her.
"Passion isn't a bad thing, Sister. To truly believe in something with your whole being. Well, you'd understand. You've given yourself to Christ. I gave myself to my career first. Once that was gone, I gave myself to my husband. The only difference is, when you gave yourself to Christ there were no different intentions, no ulterior motives," Lana walked to the sink and set the cups in it with care. "You're lucky, actually. You don't have to experience the misery of mankind firsthand."
Mary Eunice had nothing to say in return. It actually seemed that Lana wasn't quite talking to her. Perhaps the lady of the house was speaking to herself. Was she mad? Is that why she had been sent here. Was Fraulein Von Winters a Loon? All in good time, she supposed. It would do her no good to be suspicious before even getting to know her employers.
Lana waved for her to follow her. They went up the ornate stairway and down a long hallway. When they arrived at the door to her quarters, Mary Eunice nodded gracefully towards Lana and entered.
"I appreciate you all giving me this opportunity, Fraulein. I will do my best to help out in any way I can."
"I know you will, I can tell you're one of the good ones."
Mary Eunice smiled at that and bid the woman goodnight.
When she cracked the door open, three bodies hollered and jumped out at her. She shrieked and scooted backwards, nearly knocking over an expensive vase. Her hands scrambled for anything to cling to, which unfortunately mean getting a handful of Lana's silk dress as she walked away.
"Kurt, Brigitta, Marta! You were told to go to sleep quite a while ago! Get to bed this instant, or I'll make sure the Captain hears about this." Lana shook out of her grip and pointed down the hall.
"Sorry, Mother. We won't do it again." one of the children - she assumed was Kurt - backed away with his hands in the air. "Please, we meant no harm."
Lana gave them a look, similar to the ones Sister Jude would give her when she was caught singing. The children ran to their rooms and a series of bangs rang through the hall when the doors slammed.
Lana grabbed her hand with both of hers and tugged lightly. "I apologize for their misbehavior. I'm afraid that they act out when the Captain leaves on business."
"Who is the Captain?" Mary Eunice asked cautiously.
"Oh, I'm dreadfully sorry. The Captain is my husband. He's part of the Navy and is frequently called to Vienna on business. He has a terrible habit of sneaking out when the children are sleeping. Tonight was different though. He left before supper was even served. It has thoroughly bungled our day."
"Well, Fraulein Von Winters, I can start tomorrow if you'd like? That way you can get back on track. I just love children!" Mary Eunice backed into the proffered room. Lana stayed in the doorway and gave her a slow half-smile."
"You're so fresh-faced. I'm envious. Oh well. We get up at six o'clock, not a minute later. Don't worry about oversleeping though, Sister. You'll know when it's time to wake. Goodnight dear, sweet dreams."
Mary nodded in return and bid the woman goodnight. She then discarded her habit and changed into her sleep gown. Tomorrow she would explore her room but for tonight she was bone tired. Even though she'd spent most of the day sleeping, the excitement and exponent dread had taken a toll on her physically.
Quietly, she knelt before the bed and prayed. She prayed once for Sister Jude; the woman was sometimes downright mean. But more often than not she always had a kind word and embrace for Mary Eunice. Who would Sister Jude bake pies with? The other nuns at the Abbey were more fond of other chores. Mary Eunice was the only one who was willing to peel apples for hours on end, even if she ended up with blisters and cuts. It also had a lot to do with the fact that Sister Jude let her sing in the deep freezer, so long as no one could hear her.
Perhaps Sister Jude would find someone to bake with.
Her second set of prayers went to the Von Winters family. It was obvious to her that Fraulein Von Winters was not used to caring for her entire family. Something else lingered there too. They had only just met, but there was something in her that needed fixing - Mary Eunice could feel it in her bones.
Well, God had lead her to this home. She would do her best and help this family in whatever ways she could. Quietly, she scrambled up into the bed and kissed her rosary. She hissed at the cold blankets on her bare legs but realized that unlike the Abbey's bedchambers, her room was pretty warm and the bed comfortable. It would be hard not to enjoy it too much. Although, sleeping quarters hardly seemed a luxury.
She stared out the window and tried to count the stars. After a few minutes, her long day caught up her and she promptly fell asleep after star number thirty-nine.
Dreams of her singing in the halls of the Abbey made her smile all throughout the night. She skipped around in lush green grass, her dress whipping around her legs. The mountains made for the most beautiful scenery as she danced with her old guitar. Years ago, her guitar had been taken from her.
Sister Jude had held her while she cried. It was foolish, but that guitar had been something she truly had bonded with. According to the Mother Abbess, it was too crass of a hobby for a woman to have. Oh, how the sound of it brought a fullness to her heart.
Morning came in the form of a sharp whistle ringing throughout the whole house. Mary Eunice was shocked into a stupor. A flurry of fists pounded on her door, and she only had spare seconds to throw on her habit before the door burst open. Children spilled in and sat on her bed, a tangle of limbs and chatter.
A solid second whistle sounded and the children silenced immediately. Two more toots happened and they scurried out of her door and ran downstairs. Mary Eunice, more curious than anything else, peeked out the door and was truly surprised by what she saw.
All seven children were standing ramrod straight. Their clothes were tucked and clean. Their hair seemed brushed and not a single child wore a smile. In descending order, they marched towards Fraulein Von Winters - who too looked pristine. The sight alone was intimidating."
"Sister Mary Eunice. Would you like to properly meet the children?" Lana called up the stairs with a wave.
Quietly, Mary Eunice tiptoed barefoot down the stairs and stood facing the children. They were far more put together than she was - perhaps she would be absolved of the judgement upon them.
Lana waved her hand and a darling girl with large doe eyes and a youthful spring walked forward. She curtsied to Mary Eunice and lifted her head to make eye contact.
"Please to meet you Sister. I am Liesl. I am sixteen, nearly seventeen." Her eyes glimmered in youthful joy. She stood from her curtsey and bowed to her.
"Yes, we all know you're almost seventeen darling. " Lana laughed and waved her back.
The trend continued with Friedrich, Louisa, Kurt, Brigitta, Marta, and tiny Gretl. Their ages escaped Mary almost as soon as she'd learned them - numbers were never her strong suit.
Fraulein Von Winters excused herself and left Mary Eunice alone with the children. She was instructed to feed the children and take them outside to play for a few hours. Lana said it was a distraction from their father being gone, but something in her voice made Mary Eunice think otherwise.
After learning some of the kitchen rules from the children (no scraping utensils on plates and no talking.) Mary Eunice had started to doubt her path. These children were acting like miniature adults. They even had a dress code. She guessed if she took a look at their rooms, they'd be pristine as well.
When it came time to play, once of the children (Kurt?) asked if they could grab their instruments to make music. Mary Eunice was delighted at the question. When she had met back up with the children in the entry hall, she was saddened to see only one children's flute and a tambourine. She shrugged and headed outside. Liesl lead them far down the path in the backyard. The children started to skip and Mary Eunice joined in. The doubt from earlier started to fade as she saw the happiness fill the children .
"Do you play anything Sister?" One of the young girls asked.
"Yes, I've played the piano for years. They taught me during my postulancy. I also play the guitar, although it's been years. I miss it though."
"The Captain plays guitar, but don't ask him about it. No one is allowed to make music." One of the boys admitted with a frown.
"You're not allowed?" Mary Eunice was astonished.
"Our mother used to sing - she's an angel." Louisa mentioned while skipping around in the grass.
"Your mother sang?" Mary Eunice sat gently on a rock and let the children frolic about. She tried to picture Lana singing joyfully and found that she could not.
Liesl sat next to her on the large stone and gazed at her siblings, "Lana is not our mother, Sister. She's our stepmother. Our mother died five years ago; Scarlet Fever took her."
"Oh, I'm dreadfully sorry. I had no idea." Mary Eunice placed a comforting hand on Liesl's.
"Oh, it's quite alright. We make due. Our father is the one who seems too desperate to fill her shoes. That's why we have Lana. She didn't want to be here, but I believe it was her only choice."
"In what way?" She noted how awkward their stepmother had been towards the children and it kind of made sense.
"I'm not sure, to be quite frank. One day she came to dinner and the next night they announced their engagement. Don't get me wrong, she is great. She's fun sometimes. It just seems like she doesn't know how to speak to children. One time I hear her talking to my father as if she was serving a prison sentence." Liesl seemed frustrated. "The young ones love her though, despite the awkwardness."
"I see," Mary Eunice processed the information she'd been given. The girl next to her shouted to a sibling to be careful. "I do have one question though. What happened to your previous governesses and the maid?"
"Truly, no one knows." Leisl sighed. "They were fine with the children and suddenly my father would shout at them a bit. Soon, they'd pack up and leave. None of us know why, but it has to do with Lana. That I do know."
The conversation dulled there. They sat together for a little bit, watching the children together. Mary Eunice took this time to think about her time at the Von Winters. She had no idea that Lana had been their stepmother. But, the way she failed to find anything in the kitchen indicated that she may not have been the most dedicated of wives too. Perhaps they'd talk about it over dinner.
"Come children! It's time to wash up for dinner!" Mary Eunice called to the children. They gathered their things and made their way back to the home.
The trekked back to the home and Mary Eunice sent the kids to their respective washrooms. She gathered the things for dinner and began to hum a tune to herself as she cooked. After a few hymns, she moved on to the musical scale. She sang the notes from top to bottom. Delicious scents wafted through the house.
"I didn't know nuns could sing," A voice startled Mary Eunice, who dropped the spoon she was using. It clattered against the stove and began to burn. She grabbed for the spoon and hissed when it burned her hand. Lana appeared next to her grabbed her hand, forcing it under the kitchen faucet and turned the water on full blast.
The pain dulled considerably, but a burn began to form in her belly. Sister Mary Eunice took a moment to admire the woman next to her. She was very pretty, although the concept of beauty itself was a sin. Fraulein Von Winter's hands were gentle on hers, not quite maternal but not brash either.
"I'm dreadfully sorry, Sister. I didn't mean to startle you." She said, reaching for one of the towels on the counter.
"You're quite alright, it was my fault for not paying attention. I apologize Fraulein." Mary Eunice stepped back to the stove to turn off the burner. She put a glass lid on the pot and wiped her hands on the small white apron she'd tied around her waist.
"You can call me Lana, Sister. I view us as equals." Lana motioned for her to sit at the table. Mary Eunice sat down while Lana sat around the corner from her.
"I couldn't, Fraulein. I am a Governess and it wouldn't be right." Mary Eunice insisted.
"How about privately then? Please? I hate to speak ill of my fortunate life, but it is awfully dreadful." Lana reached for her unharmed hand and squeezed gently. "I am here by choice, although I'm to wonder if it was the correct one. I presume your stay is similar?"
Mary Eunice look up at Fraulein Von Winters and tried to decipher the look she had. It was almost...romantic. The woman's eyes were glistening in the warm hazy dusk. Her cheeks were tinted rose - likely from the glass of bourbon the seemed to go everywhere she did.
"May I asked what you mean by your choice?" Mary Eunice returned the squeeze in their still-clasped hands.
"My choice of partners was not fitting for the country. Since I was a schoolteacher, I was given the option of being euthanized in prison, or being the surrogate step-mother and wife to the Captain and his youthful crew."
"Was your partner a crook.?"
Lana sighed and cast Mary Eunice a watery glance. "Nope, no crook. But the Government didn't see any difference."
A stampede of feet broke apart their moment. Lana sniffed and wiped her eyes on the back of her sleeve. Mary Eunice turned to face the children and when she turned back around to invite the matron to attend their dinner, she noticed that she had left them.
Dinner was uneventful. The children, now aware that they could talk during their meal, spoke of things even Mary Eunice found boring. What kind of youths spoke of the weather and the politics in Austria? It seemed more like a staunch dinner party than a family gathering. Soon after it was over, the children ran back to their rooms as soon as they'd come out. Mary Eunice cleared the mess and made a plate to take to Fraulein Von Winters.
She balanced the plate carefully as she climbed the stairs. Once, she nearly tripped over nothing in her haste to see Lana. It was dreadfully unlike her to be so nervous. Perhaps the story of Lana's forbidden lover had scared her more than she'd intended. She had never been one to pry, but she just couldn't picture the gentle woman harvesting a criminal.
She arrived at the door and took a few breaths to steady herself. She had to remind herself that she did not know this woman well, as intimate as their conversations had been. To mind her place in this home would be wise. She rapped twice against the heavy door and tried to calm her nerves.
A few moments later, the door opened to reveal a tousled looking Lana, silky robe and all. She looked up at Mary Eunice with a scowl but changed it to smile soon after.
"Come in. I apologize for being absent during dinner." Lana opened the door to reveal a lush bedroom. It was beautiful; almost like a castle in a distant land.
"I brought you a plate, are you hungry?" Mary Eunice asked as she stepped into the room. She inhaled deeply and smiled when an earthy scent wafted around her.
"Pine cones. They make the room smell heavenly." Lana waved towards the fireplace. "I appreciate the food, Sister. Go ahead and set the plate there, I'll poke through it later."
"Alright, Fraulein." She received a stern look and corrected herself. "Lana."
"Thank you, Sister. I-I sometimes to remember that there a genuine people out in the world." Lana sat on the bed and motioned for Mary Eunice to join her.
She walked the few steps and sat on the bed with a rigid posture. She was wildly uncomfortable being so close to someone she'd only just met and especially nervous to be in their private chambers.
"Could I ask you some questions, Sister?" Lana asked.
Mary Eunice nodded in agreement, unable to form a sufficient response.
"You're twenty-eight, correct?" Lana made eye contact with her. It was surprisingly comforting.
"Yes. I was born in the spring."
"You're very youthful. It's admirable. Perhaps I should have gone to an Abbey in my youth." Lana lamented. She laid back against the puffy blanket and threw her hands over her head.
Mary Eunice's eyes widened as Lana's robe opened slightly and she blushed furiously while looking anywhere but at the woman talking.
"Oh, dear I do apologize. I suppose I'm going to hell now. I've traumatized a nun."
Mary Eunice swirled around, "No! Not at all! I'm fine. You are in no way damned for that."
"Oh honey, I was joking. I'm sorry. I haven't had a soul to speak to in ages. I'm afraid the Captain doesn't let me out much. Friends are hard to come by when you're a Navy family." Lana tied her robe tighter and sat up. She strolled over to her boudoir and opened a bottle on it. "I suppose you don't imbibe?"
"Sister Jude says earthly temptations are a sign of personal weakness. I cannot. But, you may. I take no issue with it myself."
"How forward of you, Sister." Lana laughed and poured some of the amber liquid into a glass. She strolled back to Mary Eunice and sat on the floor against her legs.
Mary Eunice fought the urge to move. She wasn't used to be touched and it was strange. Perhaps..she could get used to it.
"What do you see yourself doing in the future?" Lana asked out of the blue. "Do you want to stay and work here until the children are grown? Will you return to the Abbey in a few weeks?"
"I go where God leads me; why do you ask?"
"I just don't want to get close to someone who's going to be leaving soon. It's awfully tiring." Lana's voice got lower and lower until it was nearly a whisper.
"I'm not sure Fraulein - Lana. I don't like to give up easily though. The children seem great if not a little overwhelming. I'm not sure if the Captain will be fond of me. I assume I've landed in your graces? Am I to your liking?" As soon as the words left her mouth, Mary Eunice blushed. It had come out much more serious than she'd meant it.
"Quite so. You seem very kind and earnest - which is something those children need. I am a shit mother, to put it kindly. I was never meant to have children."
"What makes you think that?" Mary placed a hand on Lana' shoulder.
"It's been made apparent to me in a lot of ways. I don't think wanted me to have them either." Lana sighed and got up. She wandered toward the boudoir and poured another glass.
"Well, I think you'd be a great mother. I can tell you're very caring." Mary Eunice leaned back, her veil spread out on the bed behind her.
Lana sipped her drink and eventually mumbled, "I appreciate the kind words, Sister."
They stayed like that until Mary Eunice felt her eyelids grow heavy. She sat up and shook herself slightly. Sleep was not to be had while the dinner mess still sat in the sink downstairs. The thought of doing dishes for a family instead of a whole institution was oddly relieving. Her chores wouldn't take her six hours a day, which she was thankful for. Perhaps they'd hire a maid too.
"Could I ask you something, Fraulein? I don't want to pry, but I am oddly curious." Mary stood and shook out her dress. She looked at Lana, who was gazing out her window into the sky.
"Alright. But, just one question. I'm not the most forthcoming person."
Mary Eunice nodded in understanding. "I just remembered that you mentioned going through quite a few governesses and maids. I'm just curious as to why. The children are well-behaved and seemingly well regimented. I can't understand why they'd all want to leave."
A sigh escaped Lana's lips and she downed the rest of her glass. She set it down quickly and the thump it made against the wood below it startled them both. Mary Eunice inched towards the door, hoping to make a polite getaway before Lana's alcohol caught hold.
"A few of them moved onto other families. A lot of women don't like being so far away from the city. Some quit, and some of them were fired."
When Lana didn't elaborate, Mary Eunice stepped closer to her. "What happened to them?"
"The ones who quit didn't like the way I lived. They all had their opinions of me."
"Why so? You don't strike me as someone who would be difficult."
"I can't really say."
"Well, what about the ones who were fired?"
"One. One was fired. The last one." Lana got quiet and when she looked up at Mary Eunice, she gasped as the tears fell down the older woman's face.
"What did she do?" Mary Eunice wrapped her arms around the shaken woman.
"She fell in love."
Mary scoffed, "Why would that be a fireable offense? Did she fall in love with a Nazi?"
Lana whispered into her hair, her hot breath tickling Mary's neck. "No, nothing like that."
"Oh."
Lana broke the embrace and walked away, arms tucked around her torso. "She fell in love with me."
Mary Eunice's eyes widened at the admission.
"And I loved her back."