A Time for Clarification
"Children, come into the drawing room with me, please."
This was Georg's gentle request as he rose from the dining room table when the dessert course had been taken away. The children obeyed without protest, rising from the table like sad and gloomy spirits: slowly and with heads down.
Max watched them leave the room with a sad sigh. He had been the witness to all seven children rushing down the stairs, panicked, to inform their father that their beloved Fraulein Maria had disappeared. He had also been witness to Georg taking the full blame for that: as an explanation, he'd told the children that, in his anger over the rowboat incident, he'd fired her and she'd left before he'd had a chance to apologize and take it back.
On the one hand, Max was not surprised. After all, Georg could hardly tell his children the truth of why Maria really left, could he? On the other hand, however, Max was surprised at the reason Georg gave. He had so newly reformed the bond with his children, and he was taking a big risk by giving this reason.
Well, he has a lot of guilt, as he should, thought Max as he finally rose from the table. Typical Georg: when he makes a mistake, he'll do at least three times the penance before he can even consider forgiveness as a possibility.
Elsa had retired early for the evening just before the dessert had come out, so he decided to do the same, praying that the so newly reformed bond between father and children would not be severed.
Liesl came into the room last, Gretl clutching her hand tightly. The little one no longer made an effort to hide her tears. Coming into the room, Liesl seated herself on an armchair beside the couch her father had seated himself on. Wordlessly, he reached a hand out for Gretl, who immediately went to sit by him, leaning against his side. Liesl smiled at how easily the little ones, who could not remember their mother or any loving contact from their father before she died, went to him and reached out to accept the love he was now showing. Just like with Fraulein Maria – those two had been the first to open to her, to trust her, to love her.
Her father, after putting his arms around both Gretl and Marta, took his turn to look at each of his children. Liesl wasn't as angry with him as she thought she would be – the more prominent emotion was just sadness that Maria was no longer there. Maria had become her best friend, her older sister, and confidante. The same seemed to be true for her siblings also, looking at each of them. Louisa seemed the most angry, but she would have been the most angry in any situation. She was so like Father in that way – preferring to be tough rather than vulnerable. And because the children knew this, perhaps that was why their anger was not as high as they had thought.
Her father took a deep breath, and then began to speak, in a controlled but soft voice, to his children. "I want to tell you seven a story. It's a story you should have heard a long time ago, and one which, I hope, will help you understand."
The children looked at their father with a new curiosity.
"Once upon a time, there lived a young man who loved the sea. He joined the navy, naturally, wanting to serve his country and be of use in some way. He rose quickly in the ranks to Captain, even winning the admiration and decoration of the emperor."
Small smiles appeared on the older children's faces, understanding the allegory. Marta said, "You're talking about you, Father, aren't you?"
He chuckled and kissed her head. "You caught me, sweetheart, yes. Anyway, after the recognition, the Captain was invited to meet a lot of people and go to a lot of parties. One of these parties was a coming-out ball for a Miss Agathe Whitehead."
"Mother," smiled Brigitta. Georg nodded.
"It was love at first sight. The Captain fell immediately when he saw her coming down the staircase in a white gown. And by the end of their first dance together, she'd fallen for him, too. They became inseparable, and soon became engaged, then married. Less than a year later, their first child was born." He smiled at Liesl, who had a tear in her eye. "Six more healthy children followed, each one so precious and wonderful. Their names were Liesl, Frederich, Louisa, Kurt, Brigitta, Marta, and Gretl."
The children smiled at him and he smiled back. But their smiles faded, because they knew what was coming in the story.
"Then…about three and a half years ago…there was a small outbreak of scarlet fever in Salzburg. It got so bad that the Captain and his wife didn't want to take any chances, so they sent their seven children to their grandparents in Vienna. The Captain had some work to do in town and his wife…decided to stay with him."
Her father's voice faltered, and Liesl felt a lump rise in her own throat. Looking at the little ones, their eyes were as big as saucers; this was the first time they were hearing any of this from their father.
"The Captain had had the fever as a small boy, so he was not in danger of being sick. But his wife…Agathe…" He took a deep breath to stop the tears in his eyes from flowing out. "The fever took her, and within a few weeks she died. The Captain was so devastated and so shocked he had to ask the doctor to phone her parents and his children with the news."
Now all of the children were silently weeping, looking at their father, who was hugging his two youngest close to keep his composure. He had to finish his story, the most essential part for his children to hear.
"The Captain…was very hurt and very angry about what had happened. He couldn't understand why God would take away his wife, who was still so young and had done nothing deserving of death. It became painful to care for anybody now, even his own children, because he now knew what it was like to lose someone you loved so dearly. So, determined that he would never be that hurt again, he distanced himself from everything that reminded him of his late wife, especially his children."
Liesl and her siblings sat with wide eyes looking at their father. This was the first time they were getting any kind of explanation from him as to his behavior. Of course, over time, they had produced theories, but to actually hear it from the horse's mouth was wonderful.
Now their father looked close to tears as he looked at them all. "But he was wrong, very wrong. He didn't realize that by trying to protect himself, he was hurting those that he loved most. It took a long time to realize that, as well as the children's twelfth governess." Liesl was shocked to see a tear drop from her father's eye and land on his thigh, but he wasn't sure any of her other siblings saw it. But his composure returned somewhat as he leaned forward towards his children. They all leaned in closer to him.
"I'm so sorry, my children. The last thing I ever wanted to do was hurt you or make you doubt my love for each of you. I thought by treating you coldly like adults, you would learn how to prevent yourselves from dealing with pain later in life, like the pain I felt when your mother died. In a way, I was trying to protect you, and I was also scared."
"Scared?" asked Frederich, surprised. He'd never thought his father capable of that emotion, but it didn't disappoint him; it reassured him that it was all right for him to feel fear sometimes, too.
"I didn't know grown-ups got scared," said Marta softly, taking her father's big hand in both of her small ones.
Georg smiled at his seven-year-old and kissed her brow. "Grown-ups get scared too, just as much as kids if not more; we all get scared about different things. No one is born brave; we have to learn that in life, and keep practicing at it. That was easy for me to do at sea on a ship, but the idea of being left alone to raise you children, the possibility that I could do something horribly wrong in the process…scared me so much that…I did. Can you ever forgive me?"
Brigitta, who was crying freely and had been the first to embrace their father earlier that day, embraced him fiercely now. "Of course we can, Father, we love you! We've already lost Mother, we can't lose you too!"
Their father hugged Brigitta back, and all of the children rushed forward to do the same. Except Liesl. She was so overcome with emotion, good emotion but overwhelming nonetheless, that she had to walk to the window, her hand covering her mouth as she let herself cry. After her mother's death, she had not let anybody see her cry, not wanting to scare her siblings and feeling a lot of responsibility to be the role model. That had changed with Fraulein Maria, once the two had become close. Liesl had felt so safe with her, and she felt safe now. So she cried.
Then she felt warm hands gently turn her around and then her father's embrace. She collapsed against his chest and held him tightly, not wanting to let go. How she had missed this – her father's love.
"I know it's been the hardest for you," he whispered to her. "I've asked you to grow up much too fast. Don't think I never noticed how you've looked after your siblings. Your mother would be as proud of you as I am, and you deserve my apology the most."
And Liesl, so full of happiness and relief, cried harder and held her father harder, needing reassurance that this was real. It was.
After this life-changing day, Georg felt drained. Completely drained. He'd experienced the sweetest joy, the fiercest frustration, and the deepest regret in one day. One had disappeared, and one was more dominant than the other at the moment with good reason.
He now lay on his study sofa, staring at the ceiling, a half-glass of amber liquor in his left hand. Max was seated nearby, listening silently.
"There was a practice in ancient Israel, on the day of Yom Kippur. This was the main day of repentance in their year. What the high priest would do is pass all of the sins of Israel onto the head of a single goat, and then banish it into the wilderness…it's where the term 'scapegoating' comes from, and it's exactly what I did to Maria."
Max nodded, twirling his own glass in his hand. "I can't disagree with you about that, Georg." He spoke gently now, for he did, after all, understand what was going on with his friend, even if he didn't agree with what he had done in terms of the innocent woman.
Georg sighed again, rubbing his face. "What I don't understand is…I've been expecting a confrontation from Elsa ever since our last conversation. Not that I would stop her, she has the right to be angry."
"I have no doubt that she is," said Max. "But you know Elsa better than that. She never deals with these things directly, head on, she prefers…the subtle but just as effective approach."
Georg nodded, not really scared by the thought. "To tell you the truth, I don't feel comfortable marrying her anymore, especially now that my children and I are so close again. Everything's changed now. I don't just need a wife, I need a mother for my children, and I can't see Elsa filling that role. Besides that, I never loved her. I never planned on loving her, and I didn't really try. I needed her at one point, for things I'm too ashamed of to admit, and she would have made a good social and physical match if I were the person I had been six weeks ago. But I'm not that anymore."
"You're going to have to talk to her soon then, Georg," said Max, not really surprised by the decision of his friend. "It wouldn't be fair to leave her hanging."
"I know. I'll talk to her tomorrow when I can." He covered his eyes again as a new revelation crossed his mind.
"What is it, Georg?"
He laughed without humor, not removing his hand. "I'll still dream about her every night, Max…She was the first person to show my children love and happiness when I couldn't. In a way, she became their mother. I don't know why I'm so attracted to her, why I want her…but it makes more sense now…she's an extraordinary person, and if I were to marry the right person for myself and the children, it would be Maria…" His hand dropped from his face to his chest, and he stared at the ceiling, resigned. "But that can never happen, my actions made sure of that. I don't resent these punishing feelings at all. I deserve everyone of them and more."
Max looked sadly at his friend. "Let the punishment fit the crime," he said, but under his breath. Because, after meeting Maria and hearing all had about her, he too felt that she would be a good match for Georg. Only someone strong enough to stand up to him and look him straight in the eye at great risk to herself was that.
Just outside the slightly open study door, Elsa wiped away a rare tear. She had heard everything. Unlike Georg, she had found the courage to try to love again, and she'd succeeded to a degree. She had wanted to marry him, to eliminate her loneliness and to try and help him too. But from the start it had all been a lie. He had just wanted her for her body and social status. He hadn't even tried to love her. And her chance had all been ruined by a postulant who was also an attractive young woman.
Steeling her heart, she walked quietly back to her room. She had bags to pack and calls to make. Lots of calls to make.
