Chapter 2: Appropriate
Six long hours later, she knelt by her bed to say her prayers. Maria was exhausted from a full day of supervising schoolwork and play, capped off by an half-hour's uproar when Liesl came looking for her book.
"Your father counts on me to supervise your reading material, and if you'd like to take your case to him, you're welcome to try," Maria said firmly, knowing the girl would do no such thing.
As she did every night, Maria asked God's blessings on the sisters at Nonnberg and on everyone at the villa, with a special nod to Liesl – "the girl needs a mother, Lord, if you can do something about that, because I'm not sure a governess can give her what she needs."
And then a new prayer, one she'd just added in the last day or two. While she was proud of how things had changed for the von Trapp family, she was less satisfied with her own progress.
"Lord, help me understand your will for me. I came here hoping to prove to myself, and Reverend Mother, that I can serve you at Nonnberg. I have learned a great many things – about children, about teaching. About patience and holding my tongue. Not to mention that you created a whole very strange world out here that I barely knew existed. Anyway, Lord, I am doing what I can to prepare these children for a new mother. But I'm not sure I understand . . . your will for me. Please help me find my way back to the Abbey. It's where I belong."
With a sigh, Maria climbed into bed and turned out the light. Her thoughts went back to Liesl, and the secret the girl had shared with her only days after Maria had first arrived at the villa. "Please don't tell Father," Liesl had said, coming to Maria's room one night after the younger children were asleep. "I - I want to show you something, Fraulein, but you must promise me you will not tell him about this."
Briefly closing her eyes to pray that the item in question had not been a gift from Rolf, Maria nodded her agreement. Liesl opened her fist to reveal a gold locket, with the letter "A" inscribed on the front, and clicked it open to reveal a tiny portrait of a laughing young woman who looked just like an older Louisa. "My mother," Liesl whispered. "I stole the locket from her room the day she died. Before… before he had everything of hers carted away. And I begged the picture from my grandmother."
Their mother. At the thought of the Baroness von Trapp, Maria's mind turned to the walled garden. The garden was the first physical evidence, other than children themselves, that the Baroness had actually existed. It was as though her very memory had otherwise been erased, the family's history wiped clean.
What was she like? What kind of woman had led a happy life with a man as difficult as the Captain, had given him seven such different and wonderful children? Thinking of the garden, Maria slipped out of bed and went to the window, hoping she could see – but no, the garden was out of sight, tucked into the woods beyond the far end of the lake.
Maria had lost her mother very young, and spent the next six years living with a grudging uncle and aunt who fought with each other constantly and barely acknowledged her. But at least Maria had her mother's rosary. And her uncle could be heard, on occasion, to invoke her mother's memory, even when it was used against Maria - "your mother, girl, she made a fine loaf of bread, what's wrong with you?" or "your mother was such a quiet type, girl, can't you keep still for even a moment?" Those few scraps were all Maria had of her mother, and she treasured them.
As she drifted off to sleep, she thought to herself, These seven children are growing up surrounded by luxury. But they are living in a kind of poverty too.
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"Good morning, Captain. Good morning, Baroness Schrader. Good morning, children." By now, it was simply understood that Maria would always be the last one at breakfast, except for Herr Detweiler, who rarely appeared until lunchtime.
The Baroness nodded a polite greeting, but the Captain merely grunted from behind his newspaper. The children greeted her enthusiastically, Liesl having apparently forgiven her for confiscating her book.
"Fraulein Maria," asked Marta, "will you do my drawing today?"
"Yes, dear, of course. You in your braids."
"I don't want a picture of me. I want one of you," Marta protested.
"Of me? Why on earth would you want a picture of me?" laughed Maria.
"Because Liesl told me about how beautiful you were when you were a little girl, with your long golden hair. You must have looked like a princess, Fraulein! I want a picture of you with your hair long like mine, your pink cheeks, and your beautiful blue eyes with very long eyelashes. In a sparkly pink dress, and diamond necklaces. You know! And in the picture, you could be dancing with . . . ."
Maria interrupted. "Goodness, Marta, that is not exactly what I told Liesl!" She felt her cheeks turning pink, indeed, but with embarrassment. What must the other adults think she had been filling these children's minds with? She heard the rustle of a newspaper and, involuntarily, looked to the end of the table. Was the Captain staring at her?
Hastily, she finished up, "… and anyway, remember what we've talked about: being beautiful on the inside is more important than the outside. Now let's all finish breakfast, it's Saturday, and you've got that birthday party in Aigen to attend, and we've simply got to get working on the puppet show."
Saturday morning. That reminded her. She glanced his way again. "Captain – will we be …"
"Will we be doing what, Fraulein?" He still looked oddly distracted.
"You asked to see me every Saturday morning with a report on the week's schoolwork," she reminded him.
"Of course." He put down the paper and addressed Baroness Schrader. "I'll just do this one thing, Elsa, and I'll be ready by nine, all right? Our appointment's not until 10, if I recall."
Maria herded the children away from the breakfast table as quickly as she could, but not before she heard him grumbling about the need to spend a beautiful day indoors in his solicitor's office. Ten minutes later, a stack of papers and books in her lap, she sat across from the Captain in his study, talking as quickly as she could, knowing that Baroness Schrader was waiting for him.
"So that's the report, Captain. An hour's reading every day. Arithmetic for the little ones and mathematics for the older. History. Some botany, and a little French."
"Why only a little?" he challenged.
"My French is not that good, sir. Oh! and that reminds me. I wanted to ask you – well, tell you, really - about this."
She dug into her pile and handed over the book Liesl had been reading yesterday. He raised an eyebrow, and Maria closed her eyes for a moment, chasing away the memory of the cover image: a buxom young girl, nearly popping out of her dress, being ogled by a muscular young swain.
Hastily, she explained, "Liesl has been reading it. As I said, my French is not that good, but it is good enough to know that they should not be reading this sort of thing."
The Captain seemed to be in no hurry at all, Baroness or no Baroness. In fact, he almost seemed to be enjoying himself. He flipped through the book for a few moments, and then looked up at her.
"In this case, Fraulein, a true appreciation for the French language would only be a hindrance. May I offer an example?"
Without waiting for her response, he cleared his throat, and then, in a tone that mixed irony with melodrama, he began to translate. " 'Her lips were like ripe plums, spilling juice everywhere, and her eyes like warm pools on a summer day. His eyes read every inch of her as though she were a poem, and he ached for his lips to follow behind. He knew that she would follow him anywhere he chose to take her, and that the night would keep their secrets.'"
It was too awful, really, to be embarrassing. Maria tried to fight off a giggle, but gave up when, much to her relief, she saw him biting back a laugh himself.
"It's just dreadful. Wherever did she get it, Fraulein?"
"From their last governess. She may only have been here for two hours, Captain, but if this is any indication, she did a great deal of damage, I must say."
"Oh, no." He waved Maria's answer away. "It wasn't that one. She never even unpacked. This must have been, was it, Fraulein Nina? She was the tenth, I think. The woman had a positively unhealthy interest in romance –" he broke off, awkwardly.
"Sir?" She was puzzled.
He shook his head. "Never mind. What did you give her to read instead? I hope you steered her toward something more suitable."
"Oh, don't worry, Captain. I don't give them anything I haven't read myself first. Only, er, suitable stories. Nothing immoral. No disgraced heroines. I'm going to give the older girls the Bronte sisters. Do you know them? Brooding, romantic heroes, lovely innocent young girls, full of tragic misunderstandings and broken hearts. Entirely appropriate. And I ordered the books in English, to make it a challenge. You do want the children to keep up their English, don't you? Because I know their m-"
He silenced her with a look that reminded her that Baroness von Trapp was a forbidden topic. " You read English?"
"No, but I made a deal with her, and Louisa: they will teach me as they go."
He gave an approving nod. "Why do they have to read this type of thing? Why can't they read – I don't know – history? Adventure stories?"
"They are girls, Captain. They want romances. It's only natural that they..."
"O-ho! Was it like that for you? Did you read romances at Liesl's age?"
"No. I was never like that. By the time I was her age, I was already living at the Abbey and…"
"And you knew, even then, that you were intended for better things?"
She flushed. "Not better, just different." I had nowhere else to go, she thought. At Kurt's age, I already knew I knew that real life is not a romance story.
At that moment, there was a soft knock on the door, and Baroness Schrader entered. "Georg, dear, I don't want to rush you, but do we have an appointment . . ." She smiled an apology in Maria's direction.
"Don't blame our Fraulein, Elsa. I'm afraid I've detained her." He stood, and Maria took that as her cue to exit.
"Thank you, dear," Baroness Schrader said, dismissing Maria gracefully. "I was terribly fond of my governesses growing up, having lost my mother so young."
So she knows what it is like to grow up without a mother, Maria thought, as she climbed upstairs to join her charges. If the Captain marries her, she will be a good mother to his children.
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A/N: thank you very much for the reviews, follows and favorites. I don't own the Sound of Music, but I love it!