She sighed, wiping the sweat from her forehead as she finished sewing yet another dress for one of the women in town. Leaning back in her chair, she ran her hands over her face, truly exhausted from a long day of sewing, mending, stitching, literally everything that could be done on her sewing machine. A talent of hers that used to derive great joy was suddenly a job, and she found that she wasn't necessarily as passionate about it as she had been in the past.

America was nothing like she imagined it would be. They had fled Austria right after their honeymoon, dragged the children across the world to escape war, only to drop them into a completely different culture than their own. The food was different, the language was different, and it seemed that the status that the Von Trapp family had in their homeland meant absolutely nothing. While she was used to being nobody special, her husband and their children were having a particularly difficult time adjusting.

Georg found work doing various odd jobs, the boys working as well when their schooling allowed, and the older girls made extra money by babysitting or cleaning houses. She smiled at the memory of the children realizing that there would be no maids or butlers in their lives, that they were expected to pitch in and keep house too. Teaching them how to clean toilets and scrub floors was an amusing highlight of their new lives, she had to admit. Even months after the fact, she couldn't stop herself from smiling about it.

She found herself splitting time between sewing and tutoring some of the children in town. Nothing paid enough to support the former lifestyle they had all become accustomed to, but together they were finally making enough to live comfortably. She felt very fortunate for the opportunities that God had provided.

Suddenly, a wailing cry came from the little pram across the room, and she stood to stretch her back for just a moment. As she approached the pram, she smiled at the angelic face of her son, scrunched up and fussy for being hungry. She gave birth to a healthy, beautiful little boy nearly six months prior, and he had her wrapped around his little finger ever since. He was absolutely perfect, she couldn't imagine him being anymore perfect. He was even-tempered most of the time, he slept well enough, and he couldn't get enough of his father, which came as a great relief to her in times when she needed it most.

"Come here, darling." She cooed at him, lifting him into her arms and cuddling her face against his soft hair. He was absolutely perfect, the most perfect thing that had ever come from her, and she couldn't believe the love that overwhelmed her soul when she looked into eyes that were identical to her own.

She and Georg had only been married for a little over a year at that point, and her becoming pregnant so soon into their marriage certainly came as a surprise. She calculated that she would have become pregnant at some point during their honeymoon; she hadn't even really known what she was doing in bed with him before they created life together. Looking back, she had no idea how she did it all. They travelled everywhere, by train, bus, car, and boat, and all the while she continued to expand and swell as their baby grew inside of her. She recalled how her body ached constantly, and yet she still continued to push ahead and keep everyone in good spirits as they made their new life in America.

She laid the baby down upon the sofa and began to change his nappy, making quick work, as she had fallen victim to his mess enough times by then to know how to avoid it. She smiled as he brought a fist to his mouth, biting at it as if he were truly starving. In reality, he had eaten just before his nap. He was surely growing at a rapid rate with how hungry he always seemed to be, she mused. She sighed as she unbuttoned her blouse and brought him to her breast, easing her nipple into his mouth as he opened wide and greedily began to suckle. She bit her lip until they got the latch right, and the pain of his initial bite eased.

She thought she would have certainly died during childbirth, the pain more unbearable than she could have ever imagined. She labored for many hours, her body covered in sweat and shaking without her control. She had been afraid, tears falling from her eyes the entire time as the pain thrashed about, her contractions squeezing her from the inside like a vice. Georg held her hand the entire time, not even flinching when it was time for her to begin pushing. While men typically did not stay around for that moment, he remained by her side, whispering words of love and encouragement to her as she gasped and strained to push. She had never felt more loved than in that moment, even though it was mixed with such an unfamiliar vulnerability as well.

"You will never guess what just happened." Liesl stormed into the house, very clearly frustrated. She sat down her purse and crossed her arms over her chest as she sat in a chair across from Maria.

"Are you alright?" She scoffed, meeting her eyes in frustration.

"I was cleaning at the Easton house across town, and just as I was bent over the side of the bathtub scrubbing, I felt someone pinch my backside." Maria raised her eyebrows in question, not really fond of the idea that her eldest daughter had just been assaulted.

"Mr. Easton?" Her words were unintentionally sharp, but she had met the man many times before. He never struck her as someone who would come on to a seventeen year old girl, but he was quite an unpleasant man.

"No, their son." Maria gave her a confused look for a moment before she was unable to contain herself and began to laugh. "Mother, this is not funny."

"I'm sorry." She laughed harder, bringing a hand to her mouth to try covering herself from Liesl's very clear frustration.

"I have just been assaulted."

"Liesl, he's eight years old." The girl didn't find it at all humorous, so Maria calmed herself as well as she could. "I'm sorry, but…"

"I was fired for scolding him…I called him a few things they didn't appreciate." Maria smiled, simply glad that her daughter hadn't been the victim of something truly sinister.

"What did you call him?"

"Stop it, I know you're loving this." She began to take her shoes off, and Maria smiled.

"I don't derive joy from your frustration. I'm just glad it wasn't anything more severe than an eight year old." She helped the baby release his latch and propped him upon her shoulder, patting his back to help him release any gas bubbles he may have. She met Liesl's eyes and smiled, but the girl merely frowned.

"How on earth are you so comfortable with your blouse open like that?" She looked down to notice her breast was still exposed, and she shrugged, tucking herself back into her bra.

"You lose a lot of modesty when you have a baby." She brought the baby down to her other breast, and he latched on as if he hadn't eaten in days, causing her to groan a bit as she tried to adjust him.

"Does it hurt?"

"Sometimes. It was extremely painful at first, but better now that we know what we're doing. He's quite greedy about it though." Liesl smiled, feeling herself calming down a bit from her frustrating afternoon. Her school day ended earlier than the other children due to the fact that she had tested out of several classes, so she spent the time cleaning houses after school. Maria gave her a smile in return, so proud of how her daughter had taken charge of herself and never complained about working for the good of the family. Though she also felt an immense amount of guilt that any of the children had to work at all, as she wanted nothing more than to be able to support them without such need. Financially, things had been quite difficult.

Georg entered the kitchen through the back door, coming home from his own odd job for the day. He had learned many crafts since they came to America, hoping that one of them would provide for his family and make life a bit easier, but he hadn't quite found his niche. He took a drink of water, sighing to relieve the stress of his day. As much as he wanted to be a stereotypical, manly kind of man, he was not a big fan of physical labor. He preferred when he had the opportunities to work indoors, doing paperwork or balancing ledgers, that sort of thing. He felt old and exhausted otherwise, and he often wondered how much longer he had before he wouldn't be able to do such strenuous jobs. His body often ached, and his mind was never at ease.

Life had been strange since they left their homeland. A marriage, honeymoon, and escape happened all within the course of a month, and nothing had felt quite right ever since. It didn't necessarily feel wrong in any sense, of course, but it all felt fleeting and temporary, as if they were living a life that didn't belong to them. He wondered if Maria felt it too, but was afraid to ask for fear that she would admit her own unhappiness. He couldn't bear to know that she was unhappy. He didn't see her smile like she used to, there was a light missing somewhere inside. Her voice lacked a musicality that it once had, making her sound much less joyful. He found her particularly moody at times, speaking in ways that were quite unlike herself.

Of course she was exhausted too, he would have had to be blind not to see it. She took control of the operation of the house, keeping all of the children on a schedule, working as a sort of seamstress for their neighbors as well as a tutor, taking care of their son…he had to admit, it certainly didn't leave her with a lot of time for him anymore. He shook his head at the thought, it was no time to be selfish, after all. It was just a financial rough patch they were going through, quite temporary, he was certain. They would be able to make plenty of time for one another again soon enough.

"Hello darling." Maria smiled as she entered the kitchen, walking around the island counter to place a quick kiss to her husband's lips. He stopped her from pulling away so quickly, pressing his lips harder against hers for a moment. She kissed him back before smiling into their connection and pulling away. "What's that for?"

"You're my wife, I need a reason?" She shook her head, smiling as she stepped away from him, moving to get herself a glass of water. He frowned at her appearance. She had dark circles beneath her eyes, messy hair, and her blouse was wrinkled and stained with milk and likely spit up from the baby. She was having difficulty losing weight after giving birth, even with the breast feeding, and her clothes didn't quite fit the way they used to. He didn't mind all of that, finding her beautiful from the inside out, but he did mind when it appeared she wasn't taking proper care of herself. "Have you eaten today?"

"Yes, why?" She took a drink of her water, her eyes meeting his in question.

"I know you skip meals sometimes when you're working." She rolled her eyes, and he gave her a stern look.

"I swear I've eaten."

"Since breakfast?"

"Georg, honestly." She sat down her water glass and grabbed a cracker from the jar on the counter, quickly shoving it in her mouth and giving him a look of annoyance as she chewed.

"Oh yes, that's more like it." His voice dripped with sarcasm, and she groaned.

"Your son bleeds me dry, I have to eat to keep up." She took another drink, the dryness of the cracker she had eaten making her quite thirsty. She hated when he fussed over her, made her feel as if she couldn't manage to take care of herself. She ran everything else in their lives, certainly she could feed herself when she needed it.

"I'm sorry…I just worry."

"You know you don't have to." He stepped closer to her, meeting her eyes and looking deeply for the woman he married. Beneath the exhausted, over-worked woman in front of him, she was in there somewhere.

"Do you think we need some time alone? Perhaps I can take you to dinner tonight?" She didn't want him to feel like she wasn't interested in alone time with him, of course she was, but her body felt so heavy with exhaustion that she only wanted to make it to bedtime that night. She had craved the comfort of her bed all day, if she were honest.

"Who will keep the baby?"

"Who has him now?" She smiled, knowing that any of the children would be willing to watch their brother, no questions asked. He frowned, looking her over once again. "You don't want to go?"

"Of course I do, it's just…" She met his eyes, and he could finally see her, familiar tears brimming just below the surface, but she never let them fall. "I'm so tired, Georg."

"Oh, darling, come here." He pulled her close, and she wrapped her arms around him for comfort. He kissed her head, his heart hurting for her, as he simply knew she wasn't doing as well as she made it seem. She had always had difficulty sharing her true feelings, preferring to forge ahead and put on the happy, sunshine facade that they were all accustomed to. There were still so many things about her that he was certain she hadn't even begun to think about telling him.

"Mother, we're home!" Gretl's excited voice echoed through the house as the rest of the children arrived home from school, and she pulled away from him quickly to wipe her eyes.

"I'm sorry, I don't know what came over me." She tried a laugh as she wiped her face and cleared her voice, unwilling to meet his eyes as she gave a sigh and faked a smile, rushing to greet their children.

He watched her leave, his heart aching and his mind wandering. Eventually they would all be happy…wouldn't they?