THERE MUST HAVE BEEN A MOMENT OF TRUTH
A/N: This is the beginning of my version of what happens after the wedding. It´s AU, because in this one the wedding takes place about one year before the Anschluss. Maria is adjusting to her married life in Salzburg, and not everything is as easy as it seems.
Disclaimer: I do not own "The Sound of Music", nor any of the other works mentioned in this story.
Chapter I
You, you only, exist.
We pass away, till at last,
our passing is so immense
that you arise: beautiful moment,
in all your suddenness,
arising in love, or enchanted
in the contraction of work.To you I belong, however time may
wear me away. From you to you
I go commanded. In between
the garland is hanging in chance; but if you
take it up and up and up: look:
all becomes festival!Rainer Maria Rilke
The greatest enemy of any one of our truths may be the rest of our truths.
William James
Truth is a great flirt.
Franz Liszt
Tyrolean Alps – Spring – late 1930´s
The scenery was too breathtaking to belong to a world of mere mortals, even blessed ones such as Georg and Maria von Trapp. The Captain believed he had seen too many magnificent landscapes in his life, in all four corners of the world to be impressed by trees, lakes and mountains. "Seen one, seen them all," he had said once, cynically, to Elsa von Schraeder while he was showing off his villa in the outskirts of Salzburg. Nonetheless, even Aigen, in all its beauty, could be compared to this. The first sight of Maria's childhood home caught him completely by surprise. No wonder she once craved the peace and the beauty she could only find on top of a mountain.
He gazed at her, standing next to him, equally breathtaking in another one of her blue dresses – this one made of soft wool, suitable to the cool early spring temperatures. She did not seem impressed by the majestic sight in front of them, which would be only natural, at first glance, because she had lived practically half of her life in those surroundings and God knows what kind of painful memories she carried from that place. What troubled him the most was that he could hardly read the expression in her face. She had withdrawn to a place where he could not longer reach her – although he would certainly try.
"Maybe I shouldn't have done this to her… to us," he thought.
Maybe it was still too early, no matter that in the end she had been the one to suggest that they came here. Maybe she had been right when she had angrily accused him of prodding in her life, of interfering in matters that were none of his concern.
Maria had always been too private about her past - almost secretive. Understanding the complexities of her personality became a challenge to him, since her reluctance to talk about herself was a startling contrast to her usually effervescent ways. His questions about her childhood and early youth were usually answered monosyllabically, or sometimes not even answered, for she would abruptly change the subject. After only a few attempts, he decided that it was best not to insist.
Nevertheless, stubborn as he had always been, he refused to admit defeat. He used some of his resources to do some research of his own, but the results had been frustrating, to say the least. Maria's foster parents – the aunt and uncle she lived with after her mother died – had passed away only a few months after she was admitted to Nonnberg Abbey, and all that was left of them was the run down farm where they were now and their graves in the nearby village. Apparently, they always led a reclusive life, and had left no children, nor other living relatives other than Maria. The farmland was completely abandoned, and in a sad state of neglect, in a staggering contrast with the majestic mountains surrounding them. There were also so many debts attached to it that Georg believed an average Austrian citizen wouldn't be able to pay them with his lifetime earnings.
Without saying a word to his wife or anyone else, he paid all the pending debts and bought the property. It had not been an impulsive decision, but a very calculated one. His motives were not only sentimental, but practical as well. For months now, he had been preparing for the inevitability of the Anschluss, to keep his family safe from the nightmare that it would mean if it indeed happened. He had been wiring money out of the country, to trusted banks in Switzerland and England. But he would also need a hiding place if he was forced to leave the Aigen property, at least temporarily. The farm was located high in the Tyrolean Alps, close to the Swiss Border. It was also very remote and isolated. Georg doubted that even the Nazis would bother with such a place of little or no strategic interest. If they did, they could easily escape to Switzerland or to Italy, on foot if necessary. It was the safest place he could think of, at least until he could find a way for them all to escape Europe, in case his worst fears came true. He kept the business arrangement a secret from everybody, because it was crucial to the safety of his family. Until the day he decided to tell Maria about it.
It was worse than an icy cold shower in the middle of the winter. After he gave her the news, she was so upset that they had their first real fight since their marriage.
"How could you do this without even asking me? How could you, look into my past like that? What were you hoping to find? Inconsistencies in my family tree?"
"Yes, it was wrong of me, and I ask you to forgive me, but I didn't do it for the reasons you may believe."
She had merely stomped her foot on the ground, casting him a disbelieving glance. This was Maria at her worst, and he took a deep breath before continuing.
"It never mattered to me where you came from. As for any inconsistencies, as you so delicately call them, I must say to you I have one or two serious doubts about my own family tree, so I would be the last man on earth to judge you for something of the sort."
Her expression did not soften a bit.
"Nothing happened in my life before I met you, Georg. Nothing. It just wasn't as eventful and noteworthy as yours. Why can't you just accept that? I did not circle the world fighting enemies underwater, I never even left Austria. I was just a mountain girl who one day decided that she should be a nun, there was all there was to it. Why did you do it?"
"You… you helped me to banish my ghosts, my love, the least I can do for you is to help you get rid of yours too."
At first he believed she had been touched by his words, but if she was, she did not make things any easier for him. She would not listen to him, and showed him a side of her he hadn't even known existed. He always knew Maria had a strong personality and that she could hardly be described as a meek, submissive wife. What could hardly imagine that she was able to throw a tantrum, let alone such a spectacular one – with him in the uncomfortable position of the target. After her anger subsided, she closed herself, and he was having a hard time trying to reach her again. It was frightening. That had happened three weeks ago, and things were strained between them ever since.
Naturally he knew that there were other things that were upsetting her, and most probably, to have him investigating her past and buying her childhood home without her knowledge had only been the last drop. The complex tasks involved in the running of an aristocratic household were taking their toll on Maria, although he tried to help her as much as he possibly could. Not only she was having some trouble earning the respect of the other servants, and whenever she tried to change some pre-established rule, she would hear the inevitable "Oh, but that is not how the Baroness did it!" She was still leaning to deal with those hurtful, albeit well intentioned comments and was making slow, but sure progress with her household woes. That gave him the illusion that, as troublesome as they were, it was not the main source of her worries.
No, something else occupied most of her thoughts and it was very clear what it was: after nearly nine months into their marriage, Maria had not yet conceived.
The first month, still in Paris, the news that she was not pregnant came as a relief to both of them. They had been so caught up in each other and in their newly discovered passion that they had not even stopped to discuss the subject until they realized they had not created their first child in the first days of they honeymoon. After that, they decided that no matter how much they wanted to have a baby together, it would be better for the safety of everyone involved that if they waited until Austria's political situation was more clearly defined. Bringing a new life into the world in such brutal times might not be the wisest thing to do. The last thing he wanted was to have to run away and become a war refugee, carrying a pregnant wife and seven children along with him.
It would have been easy to live by that decision and take the necessary precautions, if they only could keep their hands off each other for at least a few days! The skeptical side of his brain - still very much alive in spite of the inner peace Maria's love brought him - had somehow believed that after a few months, although their love for each other would be there, strong as ever, the passion, the physical need would have diminished, and it would be easier for them at least to control themselves for a few days each month. It had happened more or less like that with Agathe.
But he should have learned that nothing with Maria would be the same as it ever was before in his life. Their courtship had been unusual, their marriage unique. He should have expected that the most intimate aspects of his marriage would not be any different. The first month when they had to abstain for a few days had been sheer torture for both of them. The second was even worse, and they vowed they would never want to live through the experience again. Life was just too short – Maria's words, not his, although he earnestly agreed.
After two months, the news that Maria was not yet pregnant came with the first snowfall. It was when, for the first time, he detected a glimmer of disappointment deep in her eyes when she gave him the news, something that she did her best to hide from him.
"Don't worry, darling. At the rate we are going, I am quite sure you'll be expecting by Christmas," he reassured her.
Christmas came and went, and Maria was not pregnant yet. And they would both be just fine with it in the end if everyone else did not begin to talk about it: the servants, his friends and family and even the nuns in the convent whenever he accompanied Maria to a visit. After all, with seven children from a previous marriage, it was only natural that the second one, to a woman nearly twenty years younger than he was, should in theory produce an equally impressive offspring.
Sometimes their inquiries were discreet and veiled:
"Didn't Agathe get pregnant with Liesl during your honeymoon, Georg?"
"Did you hear about Pauline Eberfeld? She got married only days before Christmas and she is expecting already. What a true blessing!"
Others attempted a more vehement approach.
"You are not doing anything you should not be doing, are you Baroness?"
The question was asked in an accusatory tone by one of the elderly nuns of Nonnberg Abbey – Sister Augusta was her name.
Maria became deadly pale, and for the first and only time in his life he had felt the irresistible urge to punch a religious woman in the face. What the old nun meant was obvious – she suspected that he and Maria were using unnatural methods to avoid children, something that would be completely unacceptable for a Catholic, according to the nun's strict views about the subject. His one defense was to utter a shocking response to the interfering nun.
"I can assure you that the Baroness and I are doing everything just right! Now, if you have any suggestions about what we should do, how and when do it, we would be happy to hear…."
Sister Augusta left them alone, with an outraged moan, crossing herself as she left. Maria had refused to return to the Abbey ever since, vowing that she would not go back there until she was eighteen months pregnant and looking like a whale.
Thankfully, she had been spared of another even more embarrassing situation. He had taken her shopping in downtown Salzburg one day, and while Maria tried a new dress, he overheard a conversation by two other women, one of which had attended their wedding.
"The poor girl, the new Baroness von Trapp! I do pity her, you know. The Captain married her, all right – God knows how much those seven children needed a mother. But I wager that he never forget the other one – now she was a real lady. It will be one year in September, and no baby yet!"
"Well, she was practically a nun before they married. I wouldn't be surprised if the marriage was not even consummated," another costumer chimed in.
"Oh, I had completely forgotten about that!" The woman giggled. "The girl probably just lies there as stiff as a board while the Captain tried to …"
That was the last drop – he interrupted, making his presence known and thus giving both women the shock of their lives. It had been the only satisfying thing about the awful scene. When Maria emerged from the dressing room, looking absolutely lovely in a dark blue tailored suit, the two old crones were long gone.
It was unbelievable! Utterly unacceptable!
First people talked because they thought that he had seduced the innocent governess of his children and had only married her for that reason. Now they talked because after all those months without adding a baby to the family, they believed Maria was still as pure and unblemished as the lilies she carried with her as her wedding bouquet. Before they came close to branding her as a wanton, now she was frigid.
It was maddening!
The episode upset him so much that he mentioned it to his personal friend and family physician. Herr Dr. Wolfgang Thürmann sat quietly in his study while he paced around the room, fuming, venting about the inconsistency of society's gossipers in a vicious, sarcastic tone, permeated with his dark sense of humor.
"O-ho, but they forgot that I seduced her before the wedding, didn't I? I waited before the children were in bed and completely ignore the presence of my fiancée at the time in the house. I used to go to her room and have my way with her whenever I wanted to. That is what they would say about us less than one year ago."
"Did you?" the doctor asked calmly after he finished his heated speech.
"Did I what?"
"Sleep with Maria before the wedding!"
Georg cast him a murderous glance.
"Of course I did not!" he yelled. "Of all the absurdities anyone could say about us, that is the most ridiculous …"
"My dear friend!"
For a moment, Georg thought that was all he would say, as the man began the meticulous process of cleaning the lenses of his spectacles with a pristine white handkerchief he retrieved from his pocket.
"Let us return to the source of the problem."
"There is no problem, Wolfgang! Not with me or Maria."
"At least you are right about that one. From what you told me I see no reason to believe that there is anything wrong with your wife. Or you, although you should do something about that temper of yours."
"Wolfgang," he began in a warning tone, but the man silenced him with a calming gesture.
"Georg! You should also know that medicine has evolved and now we are just beginning to understand how much the mind can affect the body, in ways that appear to be inexplicable at times. Your Maria, for instance – in just a few weeks she went from a bride of the Church to your bride, with everything that it implied."
"Yes, but she dealt with it beautifully!"
"Allow me to finish. The whole process may have been harder for her than she ever realized… or you! However, there are a few things that you could do to help…" It was nothing that Georg had not guessed before, but being offered practical, medical advice about what to do to aid conception was unprecedented for him, since he never faced a similar problem in his previous marriage.
And then, two days ago, there had been the little episode in Hans and Peggy Schneider's antique shop (1).
He somehow had coaxed Maria in to accompanying him downtown that day. It was actually the first time since the argument about the farm when they managed to be alone and talk without arguing, the first time in weeks he was actually able to breathe a little easier. Yet, the tension between them was still noticeable to anyone, most especially their closest friends. His own dark, brooding expression was back, and Maria was not smiling and talking as often as she used to. What was strange was the fact that Peggy made no comment about it as soon as they entered the crammed shop in the Getreidegasse.
"What the hell is wrong with both of you?" the Irishwoman asked boldly, as soon as she set her piercing green eyes upon them.
"Nothing!" he and Maria answered at the same time.
"Nothing my foot. I haven't seen you both so tense and ready to jump at each other's throats since the first time you brought Maria here, months before you were even engaged! What is the matter?" She turned to Maria. Softening her tone, she asked playfully. "Please don't tell me that he has been acting so beastly with you lately that you are not considering going back to that Abbey of yours. Are you?"
He could tall that Maria was making her best effort to laugh, but the result was only an apologetic sad smile.
"According to some people, she had never really left the convent," he muttered ironically under his breath, only to curse inwardly because he felt Maria stiffen next to him.
"What so you mean?" Hans asked sharply, joining his wife.
"Nothing, Hans. There is nothing to worry about. We are fine, the children are fine. We are just a little tired, and frankly, a lot worried. You have been reading the newspapers lately, haven't you?"
"Mmmm…" Frau Schneider scowled at him, but made no further comment. She did leave him alone, but she began watching Maria like a hawk after that, while she walked around the cramped little antique shop, picking up one item or another but gazing at the objects with little or no interest.
"Maria… would you do me a favor, dear?" she said to Maria. He raised his eyes from a book Hans had brought him – a new item in his notorious collection – and began watching the scene intently.
"Yes?"
"Could you just… walk over here?"
"Erhm – walk?" Maria's frown deepened.
"Yes, darling. Just a little walk, one foot after another, as simple as that. There is something I need to see. Please?"
Maria frowned, and stole a quick, quizzical glance at him. One of their usual silent conversations - he replied with a shrug of his shoulders and a little smirk, as if saying: "It's Peggy Schneider, darling, just humor her otherwise she will not leave you alone until you do!"
"All right!" Shrugging, Maria walked the few steps that separated her from Peggy Schneider.
"Mmmmm," the Irishwoman muttered, one hand scratching her head.
"Peggy!" her husband warned. "I know what you are doing, and I don't like it one bit. You heard what the Captain said. Leave Baroness von Trapp alone!"
As usual, Hans's warnings were completely ignored.
"All right then. You can walk back now, darling."
"Fine," Maria said, rolling her eyes in amusement. Later, she told him that she thought Peggy was about to present her another outlandish costume for her to try on, and only wanted to check her figure to see if it would fit her.
It turned out to be a very wrong assumption of her part.
"Ha-hah!" Peggy exclaimed, turning around to face him. "So that is what you are keeping from me. You should know better, Georg – I always guess those things, and I am always right. I knew it. I was never wrong before, and this time should be no different."
"Uh – you knew what, Peggy?" Georg asked, while Maria was again busy, interested in miniature porcelain statue.
"I knew the moment both of you walked in here, I knew the moment I laid my eyes upon your wife, Captain."
"Peggy, don't do it!" Hans warned again.
Frau Schneider then turned to Maria, pointed a finger to her and abruptly announced.
"You, my dear, are pregnant!"
"I'm whaaaaat?"
The precious porcelain miniature fell from his wife's hands, and the crashing noise it made when it broke was the only sound heard in the room for the next embarrassing moments. Maria was rendered absolutely speechless, her face became as white as a ghost.
He was speechless.
It all became hectic after that.
Maria's deadly parlor scared him out of his wits. He ran to her because he feared she would collapse, all the while barely conscious of Hans giving Peggy a piece of his mind for being unforgivably forward and meddling again.
"Uuhhh – me and my big old mouth. That was uncalled for. I guess they didn't know it themselves, did they?" Peggy said.
"Of course they didn't know it!" Hans bellowed. "Just look at them! Do they look like a couple who knew they were going to have a child?"
Maria did not collapse, did not faint or swoon. She held her ground beautifully, her distress entirely focused on the broken porcelain figure.
"How clumsy of me, look at what I have done!" she exclaimed.
"Do not trouble yourself with that now, my love. Are you all right?"
"Yes, I'm fine," she smiled. "I was just caught by surprise, that is all. It is not something that you… ehrm… that you hear every day…."
He did not have the heart to tell Maria at that moment that Peggy was indeed most probably right – the Irishwoman had guessed that Agathe was pregnant of five out of his seven children. His wife was much too distraught, and, quite frankly, so was he. Could he have missed the obvious signs? If he had, he would never be able to forgive himself. He had been through that seven times – eight if he counted one of Agathe´s pregnancies which had unfortunately ended in a miscarriage. Of course the tension between then had not helped at all, blinding him for everything else. He experience a violent rush of feelings, just like it happened when Agathe told him that she was expecting Liesl, only stronger, at the thought of Maria carrying his baby. Every moment they spent together, ever since he saw her for the first time, flashed before his eyes in a maddening speed.
After they left the antique shop in the Getreidegasse, they walked in silence, hand in hand, for a while. He decided to break the silence.
"Maria, are you…"
"Oohhhhh," she moaned impatiently. "If you ask me again if I am all right, I swear I will…" His laughter drowned the rest of her words. There was some color in her face and his relief was so great that he wanted to shout.
"At least I'm glad to see your old temper back!"
"It was about time, wasn't it?"
"It most certainly was. I missed it terribly. Are you…"
"I'm fine!"
"Do you think Peggy might be right?" he prodded – he just could not help himself.
Her expressive face went from aggravated to serious again. "I don't know… Do you?"
"It is not impossible. We've been at each other's throats during the day lately, but at night… well, you know what we've been doing in the middle of the night," he teased, wondering how was it possible that after knowing Maria for nearly one year, he still had the power to make her blush.
"Has she ever said anything like that before?"
"You mean inappropriate? Entirely vexatious? O-ho, constantly! You should know her better by now."
"No, no that. Can she really tell a woman is carrying a baby just the way she walks?"
"She says it's the Irish witch in her, she can't help it."
"Was she ever right before?"
"What do you think?" he winked. "She did guess that we were both in love with each other before any of us knew it, didn't she?"
"That was different. It was all too obvious."
"Was it?"
"Ooohhh…."
He sighed. "Their names are Louisa, Brigitta, Kurt, Marta and Gretl. The only reason why she did not guess about Liesl and Friedrich before we had the chance to tell her first was because by the time she saw Agathe, both pregnancies were more than obvious. It never came as a shock before because although she did not know what was happening, we certainly knew already. This time she caught me completely off guard, I must say that!"
"Oh dear! But… but I don't feel anything. I am not sick in the mornings, I am never dizzy, I do not have strange cravings… And no, don't look at me like that, there is nothing strange about Schnitzel with Noodles!" He laughed. "I am just more tired than usual, but that is from learning how to run a household properly and dealing seven children and a stubborn sea captain at the same time. Ooohhh… What should we do now? I have no idea what to do."
"Maria?"
"Mmmm?"
"My good friend, Dr. Thürmann, lives just half a block from here. If you want to, we can go there, I am sure he will see us. If you are, we'll know right away, if you are not, we can start to find out why."
"No."
"No?"
"No. I know I should listen to you this time, but I happen to know a few things too - it might be too early," she said. "I don't feel any different and I think I am not even late yet!"
He nodded and did not insist. "Do you promise me you'll tell me if anything happens. Anything at all?"
"You know I will. I would not dream of keeping such a thing from you."
"Do you know what I think we should do while we wait?" he asked when an idea suddenly hit him. He only wished the thought had occurred to him sooner.
"What?"
"We could – uh - get away for a few days. Just the two of us."
That did it. For the first time in two weeks, he saw stars shining in Maria's eyes again. She stopped in the middle of the street and looked at up at him, wonderingly.
"Really? Do you think we could?"
"Yes, we could and we most certainly should. I think it is about time we have some time to ourselves again, don't you? After everything that's been happening - the threat of the Anschluss, me meddling into your past – and now this. We have not been completely alone since the honeymoon. How would you…" his lips slowly curved into a smile, "… like to finally see the ocean?"
Impulsively, she threw her arms around his neck and kissed him fully in the mouth. He made no motion to stop her – in fact, he wanted to grin like a silly teenage boy. Maria hadn't touched him spontaneously like that ever since their argument, and although it had been only a couple of weeks ago, he missed her open displays of affection. His aversion to such demonstrations was momentarily forgotten and he kissed her back in broad daylight, in Salzburg's busiest streets.
"I'm sorry, I forgot myself again," she said, breaking their brief kiss and stepping away from him quickly.
"It´s all right, darling. I wouldn´t dream of holding it against you this time." He brought her closer again, keeping her by his side with one arm firmly wrapped around her waist.
"The children…"
"The children will be fine, as usual. They'll understand. As a matter of fact I think they may need some time from us too," he grinned. "Things have been hectic lately, haven't they? You are exhausted. In fact, that might have been what gave Frau Schneider the impression that you are expecting."
"Do you really think so?" His wife was visibly torn between excitement and relief after he said that. He leaned towards her, kissing the frown in her face.
"It could be, but I don't want you to fret over it! As you so wisely suggested, let us wait a few days to find out, shall we? After we return from… wherever we are going, we'll know what to do."
"I realize that it is not exactly on the way to the Adriatic, but before you take me to the sea… I would like to see the farm!"
His wife would never loose that uncanny talent she had of completely taking him aback at the most unexpected moments. He stopped walking again, and his hold on her hands tightened.
"Are you sure?"
She nodded.
"That place made me what I am today. I need to be the one to show it to you."
He patted her hand. "Then it's settled – we'll do it. Now, what if we walk across the river and have lunch at the Sacher Hotel? To celebrate."
"Celebrate? But we are not even sure yet. What if…"
"There are other things we need to celebrate today, don't you think?"
"I agree, wholeheartedly. I think that it was fighting you that had me so exhausted. You have no idea how tiring you can be when you act like an abominable beast, as Peggy described you."
"Ah ha! Peggy did not call me an abominable beast, darling. You did!" She wrinkled her nose at him, and he tapped her nose, playfully.
"Do you mind if we stopped at the Cathedral for a few moments before we go?" she asked, uncertainly.
"Certainly not, but… what are you frowning about now?" he asked abruptly.
"I was just wondering that I'll probably have to spend half of the night packing!" She scratched her head. "I have no idea what to wear on a boat, you have got to help me with that!"
He chuckled. "You are planning to spend the night packing, Baroness?"
"I said half the night." She stomped one foot on the ground, like she usually did when she wanted to make a point with him. "Georg, I'm serious!"
"O-ho, I would not worry so much about our clothes if I were you. I am planning to keep you naked most of the time," he winked, grinning wickedly at her.
An elderly woman on her way to church snorted when she heard him saying that. The sound of Maria's laughter echoed in Salzburg's busy streets. She had not laughed like that in weeks, and the sound was more beautiful to him than the best music he had ever been able to play.
While Maria said her silent prayers in the Salzburg's Dom, Georg made a few promises of his own. The last important of them all he carried away with perfection that same afternoon.
He made Maria fall in love with him all over again that day.
He acted like the perfect gentleman, only to make her laugh unexpectedly because of some outrageous comment. He flirted shamelessly with her, as if she were a woman he wanted to win over, and not his wife of nine months already.
It was raining heavily by the time they left the Sacher Hotel. The drive had been silent at first, since both of them were still digesting Peggy's words.
"Maria, I asked you not to torment yourself about it, darling," he started. "Whether she is right or not, it worrying won't do either of us any good."
"Are you trying to tell me you were not thinking about it ever since we left? Because if you are, I won't believe you. You had that certain brooding look in your face and I know very well what it means, Captain."
"Touché! As usual, you hit your mark with incredible accuracy, Fräulein!"
"I just wish I could feel something. I always thought I would know. Well, I just don't!"
His grip on the wheel tightened. "Actually, I think that you have been feeling too many things lately and that just might be the problem."
"I don't know… Georg, do you know how many pregnant women I have been around in my entire life?"
"Living in Nonnberg?" He snickered. "Unless the lifestyle of your average Benedictine nun has changed drastically over the past ten years… not too many!"
"Two!"
His eyebrows raised in astonishment. "Two?"
"Oh, yes. One was my aunt, when I was a child – she used to feel so terrible most of the time. She was sick all day, not only in the mornings. In fact, she hardly ever got up from the bed. She lost the baby after only a few weeks…" Her voice trailed down, and she took a deep breath before continuing – this time telling him of a happier memory. "The other one was a woman who rang the bell at Nonnberg in the middle of the night two winters ago. She was in labor, and the nuns did not have a clue about what to do. They woke me up, because they knew I grew up in a farm. I argued that all I ever saw were a few animals giving birth, not people, but Sister Berthe only said "just pretend she is a horse"." Maria finished the phrase mimicking the nun's sour tone and he laughed.
"What did you do?"
"I followed her advice and everything turned out just fine. It was a poor baby girl, but the woman decided right away to name the poor little thing Berthe."
The rain became heavier, and he could hardly see the road in front of them, even with the windshield running at maximum speed. When he opened the window on his side to try to see better, he was greeted with a gush of water.
"It's no use," he said, removing his hat and raking his fingers through his wet hair. "If we go on we'll probably be stuck somewhere. We are much too close to the river, and if it starts flooding, we can find ourselves in trouble."
He did not give Maria any time to worry about their predicament. Making a quick turn to the left, he drove the car to a shaded road, bordered with tall, thick trees that kept the worst of the rain from reaching them.
"We'll wait here until it stops. You see," he began, pointing to the distance, "it shouldn't take long, the horizon is clear…" He turned off the engine and looked at her.
No woman in the world had a more expressive face than Maria. Slowly, he was learning the intimate meaning behind every subtle change in her eyes, things that only he knew about her. There was no mistaking what was her message to him now.
"Yes, darling?" he asked – she might have spoken his name or not, he was never sure. If she had, it was a mere whisper, drowned by the sound of the rain against the roof of the car.
"I love you," she said slowly, the meaning of the words magnified one hundred fold because she was still too shy to say them very often.
Leaning forward, he kissed her. Her lips quivered slightly beneath his and he pulled back immediately to look at her again. She wasn't crying, as he feared she might be, but the white-hot light in her eyes burned even brighter.
It would be crazy, unthinkable – and yet, utterly impossible to resist. They were in a public road, less than a mile from home, but the heavily falling rain, and the trees surrounding them gave them the illusion that they were completely isolated from the rest of the world in a warm cocoon. There was not a soul in sight, and most surely there would not be until the storm was over. They were as alone as they could possibly be.
"Maria?" he spoke softly, questioningly, even knowing only too well what she wanted.
"Make love to me."
He did.
Two days later, they left for Tyrol.
A/N: (1) "Treasures".