Max walked up the stairs, and Georg caught him studying him carefully. When he reached the top, Max cleared his throat and smiled as the lights flickered again.
"I see the evening is rather uneventful," he remarked, his attempt at lightening the mood falling flat. He looked over the balcony at the four remaining children, and then back up at his friend, flanked by two of his daughters. "Why don't we all go downstairs?"
Georg looked at Max as if seeing him for the first time. Thunder rumbled outside, and he looked down at the girls, who stared back up to him in agreement with their uncle.
Shaking his head, Georg smiled. The presence of the doctor and what the surgeon had just told him calmed him slightly. He put his arms on Brigitta's shoulders. "You two go down," he told her, glancing up to nod to Louisa.
"But you should come too, Father," Brigitta said softly. "There's nothing you can do."
"I'm here if she needs me," he whispered and winked at the girl. "Please, go downstairs and stay with your brothers and sisters."
Brigitta looked over at Louisa who reluctantly nodded. The two girls retreated down the stairs, leaving the Captain alone with his thoughts and his unconventional best friend.
Georg walked over to the door. Placing his hand against the wood, he closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. "Which rule states that a man cannot be with his wife as she delivers their child?"
Max chucked and shrugged. "And old aristocracy one, I believe," he suggested and watched the children return into the parlor. "Do you know how far along she is?"
Georg shook his head. "No one has come out of there since you left," he said. "From the sound of it, I would say she's pushing. But then, I have no idea."
Max brightened. "It shouldn't be long now, then, Georg," he offered. "You'll be a father again in no time."
Georg's mouth tightened. "I know that first deliveries are usually long, but this has got to be a record."
Max raised his eyebrows. "Oh, I don't know," he mused. "I distinctly remember Kurt taking his time, and he was the fourth."
Georg nodded and smiled at the memory. "I should just go inside. They can't dismiss me from my own bedroom."
Max walked over to his friend and put a comforting hand on his shoulder. "It's not your bedroom right now, Captain," he said.
Georg narrowed his eyes at him. The sound of another cry ripped through him, and he pivoted quickly and reached out to the doorknob. Max grabbed his arm and pulled it away.
"Georg," he said firmly. "They'll get you if you're needed, and that is something you don't want, isn't it?"
The Captain closed his eyes tightly. "She's so small," he whispered, images of what was happening on the other side of that door torturing him.
Max laughed, and Georg whipped his head up in anger.
Upon seeing the Captain's indignant face, Max ceased his laughter and smiled at him. "I don't remember Agathe being an ox, Georg."
Despite himself, Georg smiled at Max's attempts to calm him down. "No, she wasn't."
"And aren't you always telling me that Maria is stronger than anyone you've ever met?"
Georg nodded, his eyes narrowing as he tried to focus on how strong his wife was, rather than letting his frustration at not being able to help her overcome him. Unfortunately, he found himself losing that battle. He sank to the floor.
She must be terrified, he thought, feeling the knot reform in his stomach. He put his hand in his pocket and felt his face pale as he fingered the object inside. Withdrawing it, he held it closer and examined the delicate pendant. It was a small gold cross; an object meant to reassure and to bring inner strength. He pressed it to his lips, finding himself in need of that assurance more than he ever had in his life.
The low calling of an owl roused Georg from a light sleep, and he lazily opened his eyes. Moonlight soaked the bedroom, and he inhaled the fresh late August air. A light breeze shifted the thin drapes over the door leading to the balcony. He absently noted that he and Maria had either neglected to close the door before they went to bed, or she had opened it sometime during the night.
Georg reached over for his wife, and was surprised to feel nothing but the pillow instead. Instantly alert, he shot up and looked around the room.
"Maria?" he whispered. Not hearing a response, he leaned forward, trying to see through the gossamer drapes. Suddenly, a figure came partially into view and rested her hand onto the banister as she stood looking out onto the lake. Smiling to himself, Georg got out of bed and wrapped his robe around him before going out to join her.
As he walked closer to the balcony, he paused and stood there, studying her silhouette through the sheer drapes. Her back was to him and she stood still, watching the movements of the water. Then she turned and he could see how round with child she was, and suddenly his breath seemed to leave his body.
Georg wasn't sure if he wanted to break the spell, yet he was compelled to join her in her late night – or was it early morning- thoughts. As he watched her turn her back to him and gracefully rest her hands on the banister again, he opted for the latter. Careful not to startle her, he cleared his throat softly. She turned her head, and he heard her laugh.
"You're up early, Captain," she said, stepping towards him and pulling back the curtain.
Georg walked out onto the balcony and took her hands in his before kissing her forehead. "I was worried when I didn't feel you next to me," he murmured to her.
She sighed and leaned into him. "I can no longer get comfortable," she admitted.
"You should wake me when you cannot sleep," he said, his hands traveling up to rub her arms soothingly.
"So you'll be tired all day too?" she asked.
"No," he leaned down so his lips were next to her ear. "So I can find ways of getting you tired."
She laughed and wrapped her arms around him, bringing him even closer than before. He was slightly surprised by her lack of remark and how she chose sentiment over a retort.
"Just hold me," she whispered.
He hugged her closely to him for a long moment, savoring the feeling of how soft she was in his arms and how sweet her hair smelled. He reached down to rest on her stomach. There was a slight jerk beneath his hand.
"Are you keeping your mother awake?" he asked the child within. He heard her laugh as she covered his hand with hers. He looked up and stared into her eyes.
"You're breathtaking," he murmured to her.
"I'm bigger than the villa!" she protested, a tired smile lighting her face.
"You're the most beautiful I've ever seen you," he assured her, shifting so his hands caressed her shoulders. She moaned in response and leaned her head against his chest.
"I almost believe you, Captain," she mumbled. He smiled and pushed her closer to him so her head turned to rest completely against his shoulder. He brought his one hands up to massage her neck while the other kneaded away the fatigue of her strained lower back.
"Maybe you should sit down," he suggested.
She responded by holding him closer. "I'm fine," she said to him. "I don't want this moment to end."
They stood like that for a long while, letting the moonlight cover them and the comforting sounds of the night fill the air. Georg felt that he would be content to stay there with her for the rest of the day. Just standing there with her and their child between them, he felt energized and alive. He closed his eyes and listened to the comforting sound of her soft breathing.
He felt her shudder beneath him, and he withdrew to see her shivering a little. "Let's go back inside," he suggested. She offered no resistance as he took her hand and led her back into the room. He switched on the lamp on the nightstand as he guided her to sit on the bed.
"What is it, Georg?" she asked, staring at him in confusion.
He leaned forward and kissed her lips. "Close your eyes," he told her.
Before she did, she gazed at him in suspicion.
"Trust me," he said. She shook her head as she obeyed. Georg walked over to the bureau and opened the top drawer.
"What are you doing?" she asked, still seated.
"Patience, Fräulein," he told her, and they laughed. He found what he was looking for and returned to her. Sitting on the bed next to her, he placed a small box in her hands.
"I had wanted to give this to you for our anniversary, but I think now is a good time," he explained.
She opened her eyes and looked down at the present. "Georg," she started, but smiled as he shook his head.
"Open it," he instructed.
She laughed as she removed the paper covering the small box and opened it. Her mouth dropped slightly as she picked up the delicate cross that was resting within. Holding it up in the air, she looked up and met his gaze.
"You'll forgive me for being overly sentimental," he started. "But I wanted to show you how much you've given me over the last year and three months; much more than what can be seen."
A loving smile formed on her face. "Oh, Georg," she murmured and hugged him to her. "I love you."
When they separated, he took the necklace from her and unhitched the clasp. She leaned forward as he placed it around her neck. Once he had fastened it, she leaned back and sighed happily. Georg studied the cross as it lay against her throat, the moonlight giving it a fuzzy sparkle. He looked up to see her watching him.
"I love you too," he whispered as he leaned in to kiss her. They lay down onto the bed, each falling into a peaceful sleep.
"Shall I go downstairs and make us some drinks?" Max offered, running his hand absently along the railing.
Sitting against the wall next to the door, the Captain shook his head as he continued to stare blankly out the window. The wind hadn't died down, and the rain seemed to increase. The thunder and lighting were practically on top of one another, each following the other within seconds.
"This is some storm," Max commented.
Georg looked over at his friend and nodded. "Thank you for getting Dr. Kesler," he said. "I feel more confident now that he's here."
Max laughed aloud. "If you feel more confident, I'd hate to see you a nervous wreck."
Georg drew his lips together in a tight line, at first angered by his friend's constant barrage of jokes. As he looked at him, he couldn't help but feel thankful for Max's insistence on trying to make him feel better.
"Why don't you go and get yourself a drink, Max?" he said. "There's no reason for you not to."
The other shook his head. "I just thought of one," he said. "If I leave, there's no one to prevent you from barging into that room and making a spectacle out of yourself."
"I would just be there for her," Georg whispered. "She needs me."
Max shrugged. "Personally, I don't care if you go in or not. But Frau Schmidt will have my head if I let you in there, and I know better than to cross her."
Maria let out another cry, and Georg buried his head in his hands. The sound was weaker than before; she was getting tired.
The silence that followed it was just as tormenting.
"Isn't she late?" Max asked after a moment.
Georg looked up at him. "A week."
"Somehow, it doesn't surprise me that she's giving birth in the middle of the Storm of the Century," Max said. "She always does things so grandly, doesn't she?"
Georg smiled and looked up at the ceiling. Exhaling slowly, he shook his head. "If I had known the day was going to end up like this, I…"
"You what?" Max asked.
"I would have made sure we could get the doctor."
"But he's here now, Georg," Max pointed out. "It's a little unconventional, but there really is nothing to worry about, and you know that."
Georg glared at him. "This may not be the first time I've gone through this, but Maria's never experienced it before," he said hotly just as another scream made the hairs on the back of his neck shoot up. He rose abruptly and stood poised in front of the door.
"Georg," Max said lowly, and he turned to see his friend staring at him. "You know how it's done."
"Damn propriety," Georg said, a dangerous tint to his voice as he leaned his head against the door with a loud thud.
"It may be, but it's best that you're not in there," Max said. "Are you really prepared to see her like that?"
The Captain glared at him. "It's not about what I'm prepared for, Max," he said. "She needs me."
"A birthing room is no place for the father, I'm told," Max said. "I've heard grown men have fainted at the sight of a child being born."
"Stop trying to cheer me up, Max," Georg growled.
Max opened his mouth to reply, but seeing the glint in his friend's eyes, he remained silent.
Georg sighed, trying desperately to push the feelings of frustrated agitation out of his body, but failing miserably. With all the strength he could muster, he turned away from the door and walked towards the banister. He looked over down the foyer in the direction of the room where the rest of his children sat, fighting their own fear. He exhaled slowly, hoping that the evening would end conventionally, even it hadn't begun that way.
Georg and Max dashed from the car to the front door of the villa, unable to escape getting thoroughly drenched as the rain pounded down upon them. The sky had been darkening all day, and the heavens had chosen to open up the precise moment the pair had pulled into the driveway.
Georg flung the door open and the two ran inside.
"It couldn't have waited a minute longer, could it?" Max asked, an air of irritation in his voice as he brushed off his coat
Georg opened his mouth to reply when the sound of running from above caused them both to look upstairs. They looked up to see Friedrich and Louisa leaning over the balcony near his bedroom.
"Father!" Louisa shouted. "It's Mother—"
Georg never heard the rest of his daughter's sentence. Immediately, he dropped his briefcase onto the floor and all but flew up the stairs to his children. Running past them, he swung the door open to the master bedroom and entered.
Sitting on the bed, a blanket drawn up to her waist and shadowed by a fussing Frau Schmidt, was Maria. Scattered about the bed were the rest of the children, most of them failing miserably at hiding their fear. Liesl, fanning Maria's glistening face, was the only calm one of the group.
Georg studied his wife for a moment. Her eyes were closed, and she exhaled slowly. She seemed remarkably calm. However, when her eyes opened and she saw him, panic instantly covered her face.
"Georg!" she breathed. "The baby!"
He smiled and walked over to her. Kurt and Marta scooted out of the way to allow him to sit next to their mother.
"The baby is finally deciding to join us," he said, taking her hands. "How long have you been here, Maria?"
She shook her head. "Forever."
Laughing for the sake of it, Georg looked up at his housekeeper.
"For about an hour, Sir," Frau Schmidt answered. "She was complaining of stomach cramps all afternoon—"
"All afternoon?" he repeated, returning his gaze to Maria and staring at her. "Darling, I was only gone for a little over two hours. Why didn't you say something before?"
She shook her head again. "I didn't know what it was," she said defensively. "It wasn't until I—"
Georg's stomach dropped. "You what?"
Whether she would have answered him or not, he never found out, as another contraction seized her body and she shut her eyes tightly. Georg clenched his jaw as he squeezed her hands. "Just breathe, Maria," he whispered.
She opened her eyes and gave him what he swore was an angry glare of indignation, but it passed as she re-shut her eyes. As the contraction ended, she exhaled again, and leaned her head against the back of the bed.
He looked over at Liesl, still in need of knowing what had led his wife to delivering their child that night. "What happened an hour ago?" he asked her.
Liesl looked over at Maria, wondering if she should answer.
"Please?" the Captain asked again, tightening his grasp on Maria's hands.
"She just sank to her knees in the parlor," his daughter told him. "She made a funny sound and suddenly, she was on the floor."
"We couldn't get a hold of the doctor," Frau Schmidt explained. "We've been calling every few minutes."
Georg barely heard her as he stared at his wife. "Did you hurt yourself when you fell?"
She shook her head. "No, it just felt as if something, uh...became lose."
"She fell in a puddle," Gretl said, and Georg's stomach tightened even more as he turned to look at his youngest children.
"Franz had to help get her upstairs," Marta chimed in.
"Please don't say that I was too heavy," Maria muttered, and Georg, forgetting his fear at the thought of his wife near collapsing, smiled at her wry spirit. He looked over at her and found her staring at the ceiling.
"I should have been here for you," he murmured.
She smiled. "So you'd be panicked that much longer?" she asked, reaching up to take his face in her hands. "Please don't punish yourself, darling."
He opened his mouth to reply, but was silenced by a clasp of thunder which startled everyone as the rain pounded the window.
"Wonderful," the Captain muttered. He looked around the room and found Max standing respectfully in the entrance to the room.
Reading the request his friend couldn't voice, Max smiled at them. "I shall be back post haste with the doctor," he said and vanished.
"In this storm?" Maria asked, staring at the spot where Max had once stood and struggling to lean forward. "It's too dangerous!"
Georg leaned over to kiss her forehead, pushing her back to rest against the headboard. "Don't worry about Max. He'll be fine."
"This is all wrong," she whispered.
"It'll be alright, Maria," he tried to assure her. "You can do anything."
She looked over his shoulder. "The children," she said and shook her head.
"Yes, the children," he repeated and turned to them. They all looked terribly uncomfortable at the sight of their mother in pain. He smiled at them. "I think it's time for you to all go downstairs."
They offered no resistance, and scrambled out of the room. Liesl remained; she was eager to help in any way she could.
"You too, Captain," a voice said above them. He turned and saw Frau Schmidt standing at the foot of the bed, her expression bearing no rebuke.
Georg's mouth dropped open to reply, and he looked down at Maria, who also looked as if she thought unfavorably of the idea.
Her eyes locked with his. "I don't want you to go," she whispered, tightening her hold on his hands.
"Neither do I," he said.
"This is no place for a husband to be," Frau Schmidt said with authority. "You remember how this is done, Captain."
"Yes, but times have—"
"This is not your place, Captain," the woman said. "I'm afraid I have to insist."
He looked down again at Maria and tried to smile. "Bully," he whispered, and she laughed.
Maria stared up at him, her laughter fading away as she truly thought of him not being with her. Her chin started to tremble, but she shook her head and shoved the fear out of her demeanor.
"It'll be alright," she said. "Go, Georg. I'll be fine; we'll both be fine."
He gazed at her, his eyes filled with doubt at her declaration.
She offered a tense smile. "I can do this," she said with bravado. "It isn't so bad, you know."
He gave her side-ways glance, about to comment that the real work hadn't started yet, but the unwavering look in her eyes silenced him. He stared at her for a moment, touched that she was trying to be brave for him.
"You can do it," he said and leaned his head closer to her. "But I can still worry about you, can't I?"
"It's alright, Georg," she said. "I don't want to have you fussing over…" She trailed and inhaled sharply as another contraction took over her, and she closed her eyes.
"Breathe, Maria. Don't fight it," he said, returning the strong grip on her hands. "It will only hurt worse if you fight it."
"She knows that, Captain," Frau Schmidt's voice startled him. He looked up to see her staring at him expectantly.
He nodded, returning his gaze to his wife as she breathed her way through the discomfort. He hated the thought of leaving her, alone as she did one of the hardest things she would ever have to do. Despite his growing panic, he admired her determination to hide her fear and pain.
"Captain –"
"In a moment," he snapped at his housekeeper, keeping his gaze locked on his wife's face.
Maria opened her eyes and exhaled slowly as the contraction left her. "That one was stronger," she said, sounding a bit surprised. She looked at him. "You go; the children are worried sick."
"They're not the only ones," he whispered. Frustration soon replaced his anxiety; he could think of no good reason to leave other than the outdated and nearly barbaric tradition of a man forced to wait helplessly as his wife risked her life to bring another into the world.
She reached up to stroke his cheek. Their gazes held for a moment. "I can do this," she said again, but her eyes betrayed her own distress.
Georg resolved to push his fear and aggravation aside and kissed her again in assurance. "You'll be fine," he murmured into her ear as he tightened his arms around her.
When they parted, she smiled at him. She reached up over her neck and unlatched the small cross around her neck. His mouth dropped as she put it into his hands.
"You need this," she told him, her voice catching, but she set her chin bravely.
"Maria," he started, but the look on her face silenced him.
"Pray for us," she said, her eyes locking with his.
"You know I will," he said vehemently and grabbed her face in his hands, kissing her again.
"I love you," she said when they parted.
"I love you too," he told her. He stood up before she could see his fear for her intensify. He gave Liesl a pleading look as he headed to the door. Before he left, he turned and looked one last time at Maria, who was almost convincing in her valiant demeanor.
"Until he's here," he said, and with a heavy heart, he left.
To be concluded…