To celebrate Fraulein Maria's return to the Von Trapp Villa, the children proposed a picnic and outing on her mountain for the whole family. The adults agreed eagerly and happily. They had to wait a few days for the perfect conditions, and when it came, the family wasted no time.
The children dressed in their play clothes that Maria had made for them in that first week with them. Maria smiled at the sight, wearing the simple brown and tan dress she had worn with them the first time she had taken them there. "Something about this sight is familiar, don't you think?" she said cheekily.
The children all shared a laugh, and their eyes turned towards the staircase, lighting up at the sight of their father. Hearing his footsteps, Maria turned around and almost gasped. Georg came down the stairs wearing casual clothes: dark brown pants held up by a leather belt, that were hugging his legs intimately, accentuating the moving muscles; worn leather boots nearly up to his knees, but worn in a good and comfortable way; a loose, off-white shirt covered his upper body and was tucked into his pants. Even his hair seemed different – still combed and neat but in a way that made him look a little younger.
Georg noticed her staring and smiled, causing her to blush and look down, caught. While the children chattered merrily all the way to the car, carrying the various picnic baskets and games, they fell into lazy step beside each other.
"I had begun to think you always wore a tie, even to bed," she said, trying to make light of her blushing reaction.
He laughed. "Have I really been so uptight as to give you that impression?"
"Not the word I would have chosen," she replied. "I would say more . . . refined. Always looking your best, and very elegant."
"I'm flattered," Georg said, and he was. Not only had he wanted to dress comfortably for this outing, but he wanted Maria to see him outside of the upper-class exterior he was required to have. If he was going to win her heart as she had won his, Georg wanted her to know him: the man, not the title. "But I can't believe you think I wear a tie to bed!"
"Don't you?" She looked a little confused. "I remember my first night when you came into my room during the thunderstorm. It looked like you were wearing night clothes, and even then you were wearing a tie."
"Ah," said Georg, recalling that memory. "Those were evening clothes, not what I wear to bed." He felt embarrassed, suddenly. He really was too uptight, wasn't he?
"Oh," she said, and he saw her trying to hide a chuckle, and then suddenly blush again. This young woman was such a mystery sometimes, but so fascinating! Georg knew he could never be bored or tired of her.
Maria was glad he couldn't read her thoughts. After hiding a laugh at the thought of him wearing a tie even when relaxing, she'd ventured to wonder what he did wear to bed, and that made her blush.
Upon reaching the ideal spot for the picnic, Georg stopped to take in the scene. The children had run ahead excitedly, and were already setting up the blankets and baskets full of food. Maria had led the way until they had decided to run, so he was the last to arrive. It truly was a beautiful spot: the Untersberg standing as a guard of honor, the crisp blue sky flecked with small cumulus clouds, the radiantly green grass and wildflowers covering the gently sloping hills that surrounded the mountain. A queen and her ladies-in-waiting thought Georg.
But then his gaze fell on Maria and he changed his mind. If anyone was the queen here, she was, and the fact that he was in love with her was just circumstantial. The way her eyes glowed with some inner sparkle as she looked at the familiar sights, the way her body seemed to both relax completely and yet retain the dignity of royalty. She was captivating.
As Maria looked around, she caught Georg's gaze on her. Even as a tinge of rose colored her cheeks – making her all the more lovely in his eyes – she smiled at him and said, "Welcome to my home."
He smiled in return. "Thank you for bringing me here."
Maria's gaze turned to a nearby tree and her smile widened. She pointed to it and said, "That's the tree I would use to practice climbing on. Now, it's as easy as climbing the stairs, even though I'm not a child anymore."
"Hm," said Georg, looking at the tree, with a sudden spark in his eyes. Without another word, Georg took determined strides towards the tree.
"What are you doing?" asked Maria, suddenly realizing exactly what he was doing. Before she could do anything to stop him, Georg had already grabbed a lower branch and begun to climb. "Captain!" she exclaimed as his feet came off the ground. "Get down!" Both were mindful of the children's presence nearby, so they called each other by title. It's not that they wanted to keep their courtship a secret; it was so that Maria could have something familiar amidst all of the changes in her life.
"You have no sense of adventure, Fraulein," he said as he went further up the tree.
"Look at Father!" shouted Gretl, pointing at the tree.
"Is he climbing?" asked Louisa, incredulously and with new admiration.
"Oh my goodness, be careful!" called Liesl, a hand to her heart.
"He sure has changed, hasn't he?" Kurt asked his brother.
"Maybe he's gone crazy," Frederich replied.
"I heard that!" came Georg's voice near the top of the tree.
After another minute of rustling branches, Georg's upper body appeared and the children all cheered at his triumphant smile from the top of the tree. His gaze turned to Maria, who stood there shaking her head and hands on her hips, but chuckling and keeping a huge grin from spreading across her face.
Georg's spontaneity, up until that moment, was completely unknown to her. She looked forward to anymore spontaneous moments she might witness.
After the delicious picnic lunch, the children proposed a ball game, four on four. Brigitta, not very athletic but very observant, was voted referee. On one team were Gretl, Kurt, Frederich and Maria. On the other were Marta, Louisa, Liesl and Georg. It was pretty evenly matched, so the games were always close. Maria and Georg became just as competitive as the children during these games, which was not surprising to either of them. There was so much life and energy in the both of them.
For Maria, this was a heartwarming sight, especially when all of the children tackled him to the ground, everyone laughing. She hung back to watch, reflecting on how different they had all been from the first day: from a captain and his crew to a true and loving family. The sight was so powerful that tears came to her eyes, and her heart suddenly felt very full, of both happiness at the sight and sadness for something that had been torn away from her, barely known. Overwhelmed, she covered her face and turned away, wiping away the lone tear that managed to escape.
"Fraulein Maria? Are you all right?" A hand tugging at her skirt made her turn around. There was Gretl, staring up at her with her round eyes. Looking up she saw that all of the children and Georg were looking at her with curiosity and concern, Georg most of all.
Pulling herself together in a flash, she hugged Gretl to her and said cheerily, "I'm absolutely fine, sweetheart, just a little tired."
"Why don't we all settle down for some activities that don't involve running and unfair tackling?" said Georg, rubbing his back and wiping the sweat from his brow. Casting a good-natured scowl at his children, they just grinned mischievously back.
After that, everyone settled down in the afternoon sun. Georg, who was beginning to feel his body reacting to the exercise and excessive tackling, decided to rest beneath Maria's tree in the shade. Frederich, Louisa and Kurt, who were still a bit energetic, settled for throwing the ball back and forth between the other a safe distance away. Marta and Gretl picked flowers near the remaining three, who all were seated on a blanket. Brigitta was reading a book (of course), Liesl was daydreaming and twirling flowers that the little ones brought back between her fingers, and Maria was doing some needlework that she had brought with her.
"What are you making, Fraulein?" asked Liesl.
"Oh, just some flowers for you girls," answered Maria idly, not looking up from her work. Indeed she was; it was a little something she had learned a long time ago from her mother, with the scraps left over from making a dress. Her mother, a talented seamstress, had shown her how to make little flowers, like rosebuds, teaching her that waste can always lead to something beautiful.
Liesl leaned closer to look. "They're so pretty! Can you teach me how to do that some time?"
Maria smiled and looked at the girl. "Of course!"
Brigitta, who had looked up from her book, made one of her uncanny observations again. "Fraulein Maria, where did you get that lovely pink fabric?"
Maria looked up from her work again, as if she'd been caught. "Oh, it's just part of one of the fabrics I received," was her elusive reply and immediately went back to her work. Maria wasn't lying; she just hadn't said when she'd received it, which was two days ago. Upon going to bed, she'd found a package on the end of her bed, much like the one Georg had given her with the lovely blue fabric. Sure enough, inside was a new fabric. This one was just as lovely: a lovely rose color, shiny fabric like silk but not, that felt like fluid between her fingers. With the package had been a small note from him: Thank you for this second chance.
The memory still made her smile.
"And Fraulein, can I ask another question?" asked Brigitta.
Maria chuckled. "All right, oh-ye-observant-one."
Brigitta laughed. "When I came to get you in your room this morning, I saw some roses in a vase. Where did you get those? We have no roses in our garden."
A small part of Maria was laughing at Brigitta's insistent observance, but a bigger part of her felt caught again. She wasn't sure how, or if, to tell the children of the new relationship developing between them and their father. After all, she was still their governess, and she didn't want that to change right now. She decided to tell, yet another, small truth. "Well, every morning I find one lying outside my door, so I think it only polite to give it someplace to rest."
"Ooooh! Who's leaving you roses, Fraulein?" asked Liesl excitedly.
It was no secret to her where the roses came from, but Maria just replied truthfully, "There's never a note, and no one has told me they have left them."
"A secret admirer," said Brigitta, sharing a mischievous glance with her older sister, and they giggled. Like Maria, they too knew exactly who was leaving roses at her door.
Maria decided to end this conversation now before it could turn to dangerous territory, and the fact that she finished her last rosebud gave her the perfect excuse. "All right, these are finished," said Maria, and held out the rosebuds to the girls. "Give some to your sisters, too, all right?" The girls thanked her genuinely and fingered the pretty workings of Maria's hands.
"Fraulein, you look tired," said Liesl. "Why don't you go rest for a while? I'll keep an eye on everyone."
Maria, who did feel tired and lazy in the hot afternoon sun, thanked her gratefully and got up to walk away. She missed another mischievous and excited glance between Liesl and Brigitta.
Not really surprising her, Maria ended up under her tree, looking down at Georg. He was fast asleep on a blanket, on his back. His breathing was deep, steady, peaceful. Not thinking twice, Maria sat down beside him on the blanket, careful not to wake him up. She took this rare opportunity to look at him without reservation.
The breeze swaying the branches above created a dancing pattern of light and dark across his body, which she found fascinating. Her gaze fell on his chest, where she saw the top buttons of his shirt unbuttoned. A few dark hairs were visible between the fabric folds, and Maria felt an unfamiliar wave of heat go through her. She suddenly had a wish to see what he looked like without a shirt, but she pushed that out of her mind quickly, embarrassed.
Turning her gaze to his face, Maria felt a new wave go through her, more tender. He looked so at peace, sleeping as peacefully as a child. He looked younger this way, despite the graying at his temples. The fact that Georg was nearly twenty years older than her had never bothered Maria, even when their courtship had begun a few days ago. She wouldn't change a single thing about him . . .
The most endearing sight to her at that moment, besides the expression on his face, was his hair. It was all mussed up from the days activities. Maria was experiencing so many new things about him today: casual clothes, him actively playing with his children, climbing her tree spontaneously, sleeping peacefully under a tree, and now his usually perfectly-combed hair was mussed. A small, pretty smile crossed her face.
Suddenly, a breeze moved a lock of his hair over his forehead. The opportunity was irresistible. Her hand, almost moving on its own, reached out for his face. She stopped herself just in time, but only for a moment. With the gentlest of touches, Maria tenderly brushed the stubborn lock aside, her fingers touching his skin. It was so warm – which wasn't surprising – and smooth – which was. She became fascinated by it, and allowed the back of her fingers to linger on his forehead.
When the fingers of her hand had slid down to his temple, Maria saw his eyes open and meet hers. She felt caught, guilty for waking him from his needed nap, and immediately lifted her fingers from his face. But he quickly said softly, "Please don't stop."
His tone was softly pleading, filled with compassion, as was his gaze. Both went straight to her heart. Again, her hand went to his forehead, moving from there to his hair, softly stroking.
Georg closed his eyes again. "Thank you," he breathed, still half-asleep and perfectly content. He was soon fast asleep again, and Maria didn't lift her hand from his face until she was absolutely sure he was.
Finally, the family decided it was time to go home. The children carried the folded blankets, empty picnic baskets, and games with them, all talking amongst themselves happily, all agreeing this had been one of the happiest days of their lives.
Maria and Georg walked some distance behind them. Both walked with their hands swinging at their sides. The third time his hand bumped into hers – whether he did that on purpose or not, she didn't know – on a whim of bravery she took it with her own. Meeting his gaze, wondering if that was all right, he just gave her that smile she loved so much and laced his fingers through hers.
They walked back hand-in-hand, Maria's heart filled with happy butterflies. Their hands felt natural together, as if they were one. She wished she wouldn't have to let it go.