I feel like a terrible person, for several reasons - the lack of response to your lovely reviews and encouragement, this extraordinarily delayed chapter, the fact that you'll probably have to refresh several chapters on what the heck is happening, exactly (esp as this chapter was supposed to flow from the last one)... I'm so sorry! Time really got the better of me, this time around. xx

The Ward (Cont.)

If Friedrich had Georg's nose, Liesl his hair, and Louisa his spirit, then Kurt, Georg's younger son, surely had his father's smile.

He came in the afternoons to drop off Friedrich's work for the day, in accordance with Louisa's meticulous plan. Kurt was a cheerful and curious youngster, all limbs and a mop of thick straw-coloured hair. He was happy to sit beside Maria and pepper her with questions on just about anything while his brother studied. He had an insatiable appetite to know, and it manifested as a tentative sort of eagerness, as though he'd been told one too many times that children must be seen and not heard. He and Maria were kindred spirits right away. She, cheerful and curious just as he was, was happy to supply all sorts of outrageous explanations to his questions. His slow, shy smile, which inevitably turned into an outright grin, was identical to Georg's.

Liesl visited every morning, always arriving with a stack of her own textbooks under her arm, and stayed as long as the nurse would allow. Maria never got around to having her little talk with the young lady. Liesl never brought up the subject of Maria and her father again, and Maria never mustered up the courage to. Instead, she heard all about Liesl's college woes, from her classes to her new beaus. Louisa dropped by when she could. It was nearing exams, and all three of them had buckled down, even Friedrich, who had been told he might be well enough to be wheeled to his exams in a chair. Maria was intrigued to find they spent most of their time together studying in silence, when they could have been studying alone. For the siblings, she realized with a tug of her heart, being together was both comfortable, and comforting.

Maria didn't meet the rest of the children until the weekend. And then, early in the morning, all six of them descended upon her and Friedrich like a whirling dervish, leaving a swath of flabbergasted unit staff staring in their wake.

The mayhem was immediate. Maria, who had half-gotten up from where she was sitting near Friedrich's bed, fell back into her chair with the force of it. Kurt proceeded to dump a pile of schoolwork on top of Friedrich's blankets, who protested as papers flew everywhere. Liesl and Louisa both excitedly tried to introduce the younger ones, each in a different order. Brigitta stopped when she saw Maria, causing one of her sisters to walk right into her. Maria knew her right away, of course, this wistful grey-eyed girl with the elfin face who shared her name with Georg's yacht. She was Georg under the stars, Georg when he allowed himself to dream.

Dark-haired Marta was sweet and shy, while little Gretl with the delightful honey locks harboured no reservations, walking straight up to Maria and asking wide-eyed, "did you really throw an ice cream into father's face, Fraulein Maria?" Marta sidled up to her other side, eager to hear the answer.

Maria laughed. "Right here." She reached out to tap Gretl's own button nose, which the young girl automatically scrunched up.

Kurt settled on Friedrich's bed, giving his half-eaten breakfast tray a lookover before pushing it aside. The three older girls piled onto Maria's narrow bed. Marta went to join her sisters, but Gretl settled herself straight onto Maria's lap, smelling wonderfully of soap and something vaguely buttery she must have had for breakfast. Her solid weight reminded Maria so strongly of Johannes that for a moment her breath caught. She buried her face against Gretl's hair, hoping the children hadn't noticed her sudden change in expression. Would that longing, that little ache of loss, ever leave her?

"What was it like, sailing on father's boat?" Kurt asked.

Maria took a breath, pulling herself together.

"Oh, and tell the girls the story where you two went bicycling!" Louisa said, as Friedrich nodded from the other bed.

And just like that, Maria's audience grew to seven.

The visit was over all to soon. While the nurses could make an exception and extend the hour-long visiting rule for Liesl, seven children plus an excitable young woman intent on making just as much noise as the children was more than they could accept.

But the Von Trapp children returned whenever they could, in groups of twos or threes, drawn to the small room on Unit 3, where it was warm and cozy, and they could always find an understanding ear in the sympathetic Fraulein Maria. She was a grown up – someone to look up to, someone who gave them the attention they craved – and yet she was young, remembered exactly how it felt to be young.

Marta and Gretl adored her, badgering their sisters to take them to visit Friedrich and Fraulein Maria nearly every day. Maria was there to comfort Marta when she spilled sauce on her best dress, when Gretl was left out of a game her friends had played. When Marta received a perfect grade on her spelling quiz, she couldn't wait to show Maria. When Gretl decided she was going to marry the boy in the desk behind hers, Maria was the first to hear. And every visit, they waited eagerly – Marta patiently, Gretl less so – for the music, for her to pick up her guitar, for her to sing them songs. It was clear all of Georg's children had inherited their mother's love of music.

It was hard not to fall in love with Marta and Gretl. They reminded her so much of herself, the little dears who just wanted to be noticed, just wanted to be taken seriously, just wanted to be loved.

Brigitta was quietest of them. When she visited, she liked to curl up on the only chair in the room while her sisters chatted up a storm, usually with a book propped in her lap. She had the air of a daydreamer, but Maria didn't miss the way her keen eyes took in everything, noticed everything.

One afternoon, she came in place of Kurt to drop off Friedrich's schoolwork. It was a blustery, rainy day. Despite her umbrella, Brigitta was wet and cold when she arrived, announcing to Maria her brother had detention for playing a prank in the lunchroom. Friedrich had not yet returned from therapy. Maria had been sitting in bed reading a book, the warm hospital room and extra blankets the nurse had brought her a cozy reprieve from the dreary day outside. She hopped out to help the young Von Trapp peel off her coat as she wrung water from her long dark braid. They both looked at her damp skirt and hose. Brigitta wore the same exasperated look her father had when he'd once tried to wring out his shirt in her sink.

"Oh Brigitta, this won't do." Shaking her head, smiling at the memory, Maria went to her bags and pulled out her spare nightdress for the girl. While Brigitta changed behind the curtain, Maria arranged her wet items against the heater.

The shift was several sizes too big. Already loose fitting, it looked as though Brigitta had wriggled into a large white sack. She had to hold up the sides to keep the hem from dragging on the ground. Hiding a smile, Maria got back into bed. She patted the space beside her. "Come, let's get warmed up."

Brigitta hesitated, then climbed in next to her. "I used to love rainy days," she confided, wriggling to get comfortable. "It used to feel cozy. But now it just feels gloomy."

Maria nodded sympathetically. "I feel that way about thunderstorms. I liked them as a child, but now I don't. When it storms, I hide in bed and sing songs about my favourite things to keep my spirits up."

Brigitta's face brightened. "Really? What kind of things?"

"Mmm…well, let me see. Daffodils. Green meadows." She smiled. "Skies full of stars."

"Does it really work?"

"Of course it does. You give it a try. What do you like?"

"Books," Brigitta said immediately. "Um… chocolate icing. Christmas presents. Any presents." She was laughing. "More books. Mother's piano."

"See what fun it is?" Maria put her arm around Brigitta's shoulders and gave them a squeeze.

"You're right." Brigitta looked thoughtful. "I'll have to tell the others to try it next time, when we're feeling sad."

"I have a song I put the words to. I will teach it to you when your brothers and sisters come next."

Brigitta nodded vigorously. "That would be wonderful, Fraulein Maria!"

Maria smiled. Brigitta's blue-grey eyes, she noted, lit up like stars when she was happy.

"What are you reading?" The girl asked her now, comfortable enough to become quite chatty. Maria had set aside her book when Brigitta arrived, and now she picked it up again to show her. She had started reading it the morning before they docked in Ancona. Georg must have noticed, for he'd tucked the unfinished book into her belongings.

The girl was silent for a moment. Sitting beside her, Maria couldn't see her face, but felt – not a jolt, precisely, more of a stillness – go through her. "Little Women," Brigitta whispered finally. She reached out to trace the embossed title with shaky fingers.

"Have you read it?" Maria asked, wondering what about it had touched the sensitive girl. "It's an American novel. About four courageous young sisters, their mother, their neighbor Mr. – "

"Fraulein Maria," Brigitta interrupted flatly, "but this book is mine."

Maria paused. "Yes Brigitta," she started to say. "The way the sisters care so for each other does remind me of your brothers and – "

"No, I mean this is my book." She showed Maria the top edge. "See this stain here? Frau Schmidt accidentally knocked over a cup and some water soaked in." She flipped the book over, revealing the slight rip at the bottom of the back cover. "This happened when I was reading it to Marta, years ago, and she was tugging on it."

"Oh, I see." Maria was quiet a moment. So Georg had taken one of Brigitta's books. When he'd sent the children away and Baroness Schraeder had left him, when he'd shuttered his villa and moved his life onto his yacht… he hadn't left everything behind, after all. She thought back to his diverse collection of books, in his small cupboard full of curiosities. What other mementos of the children had he taken?

Brigitta was still staring at the cover in Maria's hands. "You father kept this as part of his book collection on the yacht," she said gently.

The other girl blinked, and said quietly, "I didn't think he knew it was one of my favourites." She thumbed gently through the pages, then asked suddenly, "did father really talk about us as much as you say?"

Maria hesitated. How could she describe the relationship that had sprung between her and Georg? "Not at first," she admitted finally. Could she have this conversation with anyone besides Brigitta? "He was angry… he was hurting. He didn't like to be reminded."

"I know. He's been that way for years. Because mother died."

"Not quite, darling. Because he sent you children away. He loved her, but he loved you too. He never forgave himself for it."

"He told you that?" Brigitta asked, her face full of doubt.

"Not in as many words," Maria replied. "It was in the way he talked about you. The way nothing he did could keep him from thinking about you. He told me what happened. He didn't want to send you away. He missed you, but he didn't know what else to do."

Maria didn't want to tell the young girl that sending them away had broken Georg so completely it'd turned him against Austria, against home, against the man he had once been. She didn't want to tell Brigitta that his grief had driven him across the globe, into the arms of countless women, into nights of oblivion in seedy port bars. What powers had been at work, that kept Maria from becoming part of that narrative?

"We never saw it," Brigitta told her, blinking bright eyes. "That side of him. We couldn't get his attention any way we tried. It was like he didn't know where he was half the time, after mother died. It was like he didn't know who we were. Did he really think about us, did he miss us, after he sent us away?"

Her voice was small, plaintive. Maria hugged her closer. "I know he did. And more than that, I know he wants very much to be close to you again."

Brigitta turned he head to look up at her. Questioningly. Skeptically. Are you sure?

Maria nodded. "I lost my family as a little girl. And I lost my second family – a little boy I loved very much – not too long ago. For awhile, all you want to do is wall yourself off, to save yourself from losing anyone else. And it can be very dark, and you don't know if the sun will ever come out. But it does. It always does."

"How did you do it, Fraulein Maria? How did you make him see it?"

Maria smiled. "Well, I yelled at him a little bit." She saw the corners of the young girl's lips turn up before she twisted to lean into Maria's shoulder. "And the rest he came to realize all on his own."

It was a quiet and contented girl who curled at her side to wait out the rain. Maria pressed her cheek against the top of her dark hair. Each one of Georg's children were so very like him, each in different ways. It made Maria happy to see them, and miss him all the more. But as she and Brigitta snuggled under the hospital covers and waited out the rain, Maria wondered if there really came a day when she had to say goodbye to Georg… could she bear to say goodbye to his children, too?

The very next day, Maria said goodbye to Liesl. She came with Louisa, pulling along a small suitcase. She would be leaving for the afternoon train to Munich. Friedrich was at therapy, working hard after being given permission to start weight-bearing with support. The sisters sat down to wait.

Maria knew Liesl had an exam the very next day, her first of her freshman year. If she hadn't packed all her study material, the girl would likely be pouring over her books as she waited. "I'm nervous, Fraulein Maria," she admitted.

Maria smiled. "You've worked very hard."

"And you're a bookworm," Louisa put in. "If even you can't do well, none of us have a hope."

Liesl made a face at her sister. "I didn't do will the first half of the semester, though," she said. "I need to score high to make up for it."

"Yeah, because you were distracted by a boy," Louisa teased.

Liesl flushed, and buried her face in her hands. Maria was about to rescue the poor girl from her humiliation when Liesl herself asked, "I don't believe you were ever this foolish, were you Fraulein Maria?"

By now Maria had heard bits and pieces of this boy Liesl had been infatuated with, from Georg – although she new better than to tell Liesl that – from Louisa, and from Liesl herself. A dashing, handsome young man from an old aristocratic German family, who seemed to care only for having a good time and not at all about earning a college degree. Liesl's first few months of college had been filled with outings and parties and cotillions. It was not clear to Maria who had gotten bored of whom first.

"Not foolish, darling. It's difficult at the best of times to know which experiences are worth chasing, particularly when college offers so many to choose from."

"Did you ever go to college, Fraulein Maria?" Louisa asked curiously.

Maria shook her head. "I never did. I took a college teaching course by correspondence. But I imagine I was much the same – green and inexperienced – when I left Salzburg to travel across Europe."

Liesl and Louisa were listening raptly. They were fascinated when Maria told them of her experiences as a performer on the island, leaving out the details that would have been too shocking for these well-bred girls. "I never imagined I would become a governess, even less did I imagine I would become an entertainer. You can't shy away from new experiences, Liesl. And they'll find you too, Louisa. You can only do your best to keep sight of who you are, of what is important to you. You have to be your own defender."

"You have to stand up for yourself." Louisa nodded thoughtfully, thinking the advice over.

"That's right." Full of fight and the most independent of all Georg's children, Maria had no doubt Louisa would stay true to who she was.

Talking about self-preservation reminded Maria of having a similar conversation on one of her last days as a postulate at the Abbey. She had been nervous to present herself to Sister Berthe that evening, the severe mistress of Novices whose sarcasm Maria would have admired if it hadn't always seemed to be directed at her. She had gotten the biggest surprise of her life, that night.

"Nobody can save you but yourself," she murmured, remembering what Sister Berthe had said.

Liesl and Louisa were looking at her with wide, curious eyes, responding to the change in her expression.

Suddenly, it seemed like the most important thing in the world to share with Georg's daughters what Sister Berthe had once passed on to her. If she got the chance, Maria thought, she would pass it on to all the girls in the world.

"Do you know, girls, it was a nun who once told me how to protect myself? She told to keep my guard up, not to be too eager to please (Sister Berthe had not been the least worried in that respect, vowing Maria could be so aggravating she could drive a hornet from it's nest). She taught me tricks to defend myself if I ever found myself cornered, if anyone forced me to do anything I didn't want to do."

"How would a nun know that?"

Maria laughed. "Nuns aren't born nuns, Louisa."

"Shhh, Louisa." Liesl hushed her sister. "What were you saying, Fraulein Maria?"

Maria's voice had dropped to a conspirator's whisper, but the girls hung on to her every word.

By the time Friedrich returned from therapy, Maria had taught the girls everything Sister Berthe had imparted on her.

"Have you ever had to use it before?" Louisa's voice was a whisper, as Maria finished telling the girls about screaming fire to draw attention.

Maria nodded. "Yes. In fact, only this past summer I had just escaped two drunk men on the island, when I ran straight into your father."

Thank you… for saving me.

You looked like you were doing just fine on your own, to be honest.

When Maria thought about that night, she never allowed herself to doubt she would have been okay. The important thing was she had gotten away, had fended off the attack. Even if Georg had not arrived, she would have made it back to the town, back to the Siren. Someone would have heard her, would have helped dispatch or scare off the drunken sailors. But it had been Georg who had come running for her. It was Georg who had comforted her afterward, who had walked her home and talked her through the trauma. Georg who had stayed. Georg who had woven himself into her life that night, and forever changed it.

And now, in some strangely fated way, she was repaying him by teaching his girls.

Liesl was even more loathe to part with Maria after that talk. After so many years as the eldest Von Trapp girl, it was hard to put into words how she viewed Maria. More than a friend, she was someone Liesl could look up to, could seek out for guidance and advice. And yet Maria was like a friend, who sympathized with her and never frowned upon her college-girl antics the way most adults did. It never occurred to Liesl to think of Maria as a mother, as a member of the family, so used was she to navigating the world alone. But when it came time to say goodbye, Liesl realized she would miss Fraulein Maria as much as she would miss Friedrich, or Louisa.

"I'll book my train ticket as soon as exams are done," she promised them, as Friedrich, evidently the Von Trapp siblings' timekeeper, fretted over the time. "It won't be long." She gave her brother a hug, making sure to elicit a promise from him to work hard at therapy. She went to Maria and hugged her too.

"You'll still be here when I return, won't you?"

Liesl was smiling, a carefree, girlish smile that must wreck havoc amongst the campus boys, but Maria could hear the trepidation in her words. "I expect I will be," she said lightly, giving Liesl's hands a reassuring squeeze.

That much she could promise, Maria thought, her heart refusing to be the cause of another disappointment. Surely she would still be here by Christmastime, very possibly recovering from surgery, if the timeline went according to Karl's plan. And yet the prospect of rediscovering her voice couldn't entirely erase the heartache she felt watching Liesl and Louisa leave the room, a feeling Maria knew all too well. Were the Von Trapp children destined to become another ache in her heart she'd have to carry all her life?

Ever since she'd been warded, Maria had been counting down – counting down the sessions of painstakingly slow therapy, counting down the tentative days until her surgery was scheduled, counting down the moments until Georg returned. But suddenly, all she wanted was to hold onto time. The hospital room that had seemed cold and sterile when she first arrived had become comfortable and warm, the ward filled with friendly and familiar faces. There was Karl, the children, the note she kept in her beside drawer from a certain aristocratic sailor which made his absence a little more bearable, and hinted at the promise of reunion. Maria didn't feel ready to face the surgery, to face the long, uncertain road that would come after. She didn't feel ready to part ways with everyone and everything she knew. She didn't feel ready to say goodbye, yet again.

Maria had been in the hospital nearly two months before Karl Bonnetsmueller returned, several weeks later than planned. Her tentative surgery date was rescheduled twice. Maria agonized as each date approached, and felt oddly both deflated and relieved when they passed. By the time word came from the unit clerk that Dr. Bonnetsmueller was back in the building, Maria had come to a decision. It had cost her many sleepless nights, many cold hours pacing around the hospital gardens, but she no longer felt uncertain. She was so eager to discuss it with Karl that she sought him out in the office before he even had a chance to make his first rounds.

"Maria!" Karl looked up from his desk to see her standing in the doorway. Karl's office bore evidence of his recent travels, thick manuscripts spilling from half unpacked boxes onto every available surface. His hair was longer than she remembered it, curling in tight ringlets around his head.

He smiled widely, coming around the room to greet her with a kiss on both cheeks – a far more personal greeting than when she'd first met him here, Maria reflected, yet somehow still hitting the right note between genial and cordial. He was full of apologies for his delay, having been prevailed to stopover in Germany to consult and assist in a particularly difficult throat tumour surgery.

Maria asked for a moment of his time as he drew her into the office. They were immediately sidetracked, and indeed, Karl seemed in no hurry as Maria inquired after his conference. Excitedly, he described the presentations that had been given and the promising new surgical techniques workshop the Americans had run. At some point, he unearthed a box of fine Belgium chocolates from his luggage, and they dug into it like a pair of children. Maria had long stopped marveling at how one of the most brilliant throat surgeons in the world – he'd humbly glossed over the fact that he'd been the conference's keynote speaker – could be so laid back and down to earth. She missed him, hadn't realized how tense she'd been the last few weeks until she was here sitting in his office.

"How have you been keeping?" Karl leaned back in his chair to take her in. "You look full of life, even more so than when I left you. What a sight for sore eyes in this gloomy December weather."

"I've been entertaining guests." Maria smiled impishly. "I suppose you know all about that."

Karl grinned. "I may have heard something about it. Stories of seven children and the young woman from 3C have been the talk of the hospital." He chuckled.

Maria laughed. "Gossip travels as fast here as when I worked at the Siren."

"I believe it." Karl made a face. "People everywhere like to talk. The hospital is no exception. In the time I've worked here, I've acquired a dozen backstories and double that number of brides." He grinned at her. "Last I heard, the two of us were on our way to the alter."

Despite the lightheartedness of his tone, Maria found herself blushing. She looked down. She arguably had just as much practice as he had in brushing off gossip after her years as Maria of the Siren. But now she was just Maria. She knew Karl better than she knew those men, thought more highly of him than of all of them put together. What it protectiveness she felt now, the need to defend them from prying eyes and wagging tongues? What did it matter, what anyone thought?

Ever astute, Karl seemed to push back in his chair, granting her the impression of even more space. "Maria, it doesn't matter what anyone thinks." His words echoed her thoughts. "You were introduced to me as a dear friend of Georg's, and I think it's suffice to say we've become good friends. As for the rest – I never forget that you are first and foremost my patient."

He spoke in his trademark straightforward and easy manner, always reassuring, but there were layers under his words that Maria heard. Heard, and understood.

Perhaps there was something there – something that had him taking particular note of this piece of gossip, had her reacting to it.

Perhaps there was a possibility – an opening, if she were interested, in the future.

I'm under the impression that he does have female company from time to time…

Are you looking to fill the void, Maria?

She made herself look up at him, refusing to hide when he was so forthcoming.

She remembered thinking when she had first seen Georg and Karl side by side that they were opposites. How true it was. Georg – there was helplessness, almost a necessity, when it came to Georg, as though they had roots that had intertwined long before they realized it. In contrast, there was a simplicity and ease of being with Karl. Moving forwards, anything that happened between them would be a choice.

And yet, it was not a choice. Had never been.

Their gazes locked for a moment. Karl seemed to relax as he said lightly, "men and women can be simply good friends."

Maria nodded. They exchanged smiles, and that was the end of that.

Karl got up and walked toward the small counter at the end of the room where he kept a selection of premium coffee. "Can I get you anything, Maria?"

He knew she didn't drink coffee. "A tea, please." Maria couldn't pretend what transpired between them hadn't thrown her off balance, and was glad he was giving them both some space to recover. He busied himself for several moments, his back to her so she didn't feel pressured to look at anything. It was quiet, but not awkward. Was it that easy, between most people?

"So, seven children. Georg Von Trapp's children, eh?" He shook his head, the gesture almost self-deprecating. "The universe certainly knows how to play a joke," he murmured.

Maria nodded. "I could hardly believe it. But they're so much like Georg it's impossible not to believe it."

Karl chuckled as he brought her cup of tea over to her. "Rest assured, I have since received confirmation from their school."

"You have?"

"Oh yes. They were frantic to review whether our young patient would be able to sit his exams." Coffee in hand, he returned to his chair. "Not that I'm in any way qualified to comment on that."

Maria laughed. "He really has studied hard for them. Oh, Karl, they're such dears."

"Are they dears, or heathens?" Karl asked, his brown twinkling eyes indicating that he too, had heard the stories of the infamous wild and unmanageable Von Trapp brood.

"Oh!" Maria knew he had to be teasing, but still she felt herself on the defensive. "Well, they're children. Of course they want to be boisterous and it's natural they get excited. But they're also kind, and thoughtful, and responsible, and they are not one entity – "

"Maria!" Karl look genuinely surprised at her tone. She stopped, looking sheepish. She had never before lost her temper at him. "I was jesting. I have met the older three, Liesl – "

" – Friedrich and Louisa," Maria finished for him.

"Yes. Only once many years ago, while visiting Georg in Aigen on holiday during service. But I knew the Baroness well, and I know Georg like I know my own brother, even though there may be years that go by when I hear nothing from him. I would know his children without ever having met them."

"Oh." Maria looked down, embarrassed, although Karl looked more thoughtful than angry. "I didn't mean… I wasn't trying to offend – "

"I'm not offended," he reassured her. "In fact, I'm grateful."

"Grateful?" Maria repeated, bewildered.

"Yes. Grateful you were there for them. Grateful his children know it's not them against the world. Grateful to find someone standing on the same side as Max and myself."

Maria stared at him, dumbfounded. She knew Karl was a kind and generous man. She just never knew it extended to Georg's children. "You know Max?"

"Quite well. We served together, way back when. Even before I met Georg. I don't much talk about it because Max doesn't like to be reminded of the fact he'd once worked so hard." Karl chuckled. "In fact, Max has been redirecting most of the information from the children's school to myself. Given my proximity to the school, I've been able to inquire and fend off some of the issues that have arisen without having to track down Georg."

Maria thought of the desperate way the children had wanted to avoid trouble for their father, never knowing they'd had a buffer between them. "That's very good of you."

"If I hadn't been away, I'm sure I would have heard about Friedrich's accident through Max."

Maria was reminded of something else the children had said. "I was under the impression Max doesn't always open the mail."

Karl laughed. "He likes to play the buffoon, but he's really much more competent than people give him credit for. I trust him. Georg trusts him."

"I've always imagined Georg as a lone wolf," she told him. "I never imagined he had such good friends waiting for him on the mainland, even when I pictured him amidst all the glitz and glamour of high society."

"Georg has never been the easy-going type," Karl admitted, smiling ruefully. "Although he could be very charming when he wanted to be. But he inspired loyalty. Those he counted as friends remain his friends."

He didn't have to elaborate on what exactly Georg's friends had to remain friends through.

"Does he know?" Maria asked. "That you've been looking out for his children this whole time?"

"I believe he knows," Karl said easily. "And I don't hear from Max often. Despite what word from Vienna would have me believe, the children are model pupils, most of the time."

"Aren't they?" Maria smiled. "They try so hard to be good, and stay out of trouble. They're lucky to have you looking out for them, although they don't know it."

Karl returned the smile with lifted brows. "And they're lucky to have you looking out for them, and I imagine they do know it."

Maria shook her head. "If it weren't for the children, I imagine I'd have gone mad here. It was hardly a chore, getting to know them."

He was looking at her strangely.

"Karl, what it is?"

He blinked. "Merely going down memory lane, and forgetting where I am." He smiled at her, but Maria had the sense he was still somewhere else. "I met Georg here the first time he came to visit them – not when they first arrived, mind, he didn't even come to settle his children in. I told him outright the arrangement was terrible – anyone with eyes could see how it destroyed him. I told him if the new Baroness isn't able to handle seven children, perhaps she was not the right woman for him. If looks could kill, I would have died a thousand deaths… He must have been entirely drunk by that point, but I'll always remember his exact words. He told me, 'what sort of woman could handle seven children? There's only one, I tell you, and she's six feet underground.'"

Maria stared at him. Karl was sitting upright in his chair, looking past her. His expression was a mix of awe and weariness, as though he were saluting a long lost comrade. He shook his head, as though trying to clear it. "I'm sorry Maria. You've indulged an old man's musing far too long. What is it you wanted to talk to me about?"

A few days after her meeting with Karl, Maria was walking along the corridor to her room, deep in thought. It was hard to believe she'd been in hospital two months to this day. It had been fall then, and it was winter now. They'd had their first snowfall last night, a good few inches, and all the youngest Von Trapps could talk about was their first sled outing. Maria too, was eager to get outside, to greet snow for the first time in three years. Snow sticking to her mittens, clinging to her lashes, crunching under her feet. But she was pushing through her last few days of therapy, and had back-to-back sessions to conquer before she could escape outdoors.

She heard excited chatter coming from her room as she drew close to it. The girls, she thought, must be back from sledding.

"Children, back from the hills already?" She swept into the room to find them all there, everyone but Liesl, bright eyed and rosy cheeked, and found herself immediately caught up with excitement. Therapy could wait. The future could wait.

"Fraulein Maria!" Faces with wide smiles turned to greet her.

"Fraulein Maria! Guess what!" Gretl came to take her hand, drawing her inside with bouncing steps.

Maria laughed, trying not to lose her balance. Before she could indulge the youngest Von Trapp her question, Gretl blurted, "Fraulein Maria, father is back!"

Maria stopped suddenly. "Your father?"

"Yes, he arrived from Vienna this morning!"

"Can you imagine, he was in Austria this whole time!"

"In Salzburg!"

"And he brought presents!"

Maria took a shaky breath. She found herself ensconced in the rooms' only chair with no idea how she got there. Had it only been seconds?

Georg is here.

Where?

It was as though the past two months had suddenly receded, and she was standing with him, on the veranda overlooking the lake, dancing around the topic of a future that brought them together.

Will you visit and sing for me sometime?

I will. Whether on your little yacht or your grand house in Salzburg, I'll come.

The children crowded around her. She looked at their expectant faces, shining with excitement. She managed a smile. "See children, didn't I tell you he would be back before the holidays?"

"You did, and oh, hear this Fraulein Maria!" Friedrich was so excited he was tripping over his words. "He's opened up the villa!"

"He's what?" Under this second piece of news, Maria fell back against the chair.

So it was to be the grand house in Salzburg, after all.

But why was she surprised? He'd been gone so many weeks. Longer than she would have thought for managing finances, longer than either of them had expected when they bid a hasty early morning goodbye at Karl's villa, Maria still groggy from sleep. She'd never allowed herself to wonder what was taking him so long – after all, unlike his last departure from the island in the middle of the night, he'd promised to return. As it turned out, he'd left to rediscover a home. Maria smiled at the thought.

Georg the sailor might be mysterious and alluring, but she remembered Georg the aristocrat under the hotel lights, charming and completely in his element. The Georg that had been so happy, so carefree, so wholly present.

"Yes, he has. That's where he's been nearly all this time," Brigitta was explaining.

"He says Franz and Frau Schmidt are both back, and the staff is back too!" Kurt said happily.

"He's going to move home again. He's going to stay there!"

"Oh! Louisa, is he really?" Maria turned from one child to the next, half dazed, but it was impossible not to share their excitement.

"And, Fraulein Maria!" She turned to Marta, tugging on her sleeve. "Father says we can move back too, if we want!" A huge smile lit her face.

"Oh, children – "

The Von Trapp family would be whole. Georg would be whole.

"Friedrich and Louisa say they won't – "

" – because it's our last year before college – "

" – and Liesl won't, obviously – "

" – but we'll only be a short train ride away. We'll be back all the time. We'll be a family again!" Louisa's eyes sparkled.

"Oh children – children." Maria gathered them close, the shock of their news behind her. "I'm so happy for you. You'll be together at home with your father. Did he say when?"

"I think after Christmastime. It won't be for a few weeks yet. Father says there is still some work to be done on the house – "

" – before he gets married – "

"No, after he gets married. He said after – "

"Married?" Maria squeaked, looking from Louisa to Kurt, her voice most unlike her own.

Married.

She had a sudden vision of herself in his grand mansion, performing for him in the cozy sitting room he'd told her about (not the ballroom, Maria could never fathom singing there). He'd sit, charming and carefree and present, arm around his wife, surrounded by the children and the children he would have together with her.

Her throat burned.

"He's not married yet," Friedrich explained. "He said he first wanted to ask if we were alright if he were to get married."

She willed herself to speak. "Who – who is he going to be married to?"

"He hasn't told us yet – in case we say no, I suppose."

"He spent a lot of time with Baroness Schraeder… maybe Baroness Schraeder will be our new mother, after all."

Louisa frowned. "I don't think so. I will say no if it's Baroness Schraeder. She might want to send us away again."

"Father wouldn't let her." Marta said firmly. "He's different now. I'd say yes if it made him happy."

Friedrich nodded. "He wouldn't send us away. He said he didn't want to be parted from us again."

Maria watched the children talk amongst themselves. So Georg really was whole. Wholly restored to the esteemed and exultant aristocratic position he'd occupied before. Husband and father. Complete and fulfilled.

Isn't that what she'd always hoped for him? Shouldn't she be happy for him?

But, oh –

She didn't want to think about how the one time she'd seen him that way, the one time he'd allowed himself to be that way, she had filled the role of his wife.

And oh, but she wanted –

"Fraulein Maria, you'll stay and see father, won't you?"

"Oh… Gretl…" She smoothed the girl's hair – a mop of curls made wild by excitement – away from her face. I don't know.

How could she face him, knowing now what she knew?

Knowing now what she wanted?

A/N (2): We're almost there... just a few little things to tie up, no? :D I've been working on the next chapter to make sure I have the proper segue for it, so rest assured it won't be too long! xx