A Time of Confession
When it came to dealing with strong and powerful emotions that threatened to overwhelm him, motion and activity were always an effective method of calming them for Georg. Now, driving proved to do him good, especially since his destination was clear across town, giving him plenty of time. He refused to enter his destination in a volatile mood. In the meantime, he let the sound of the engine growling and the sensation of the air rushing past him above his head. He willed his frantic emotions to leave along with that air.
Georg ignored the empty feeling in his stomach. His family was probably sitting down to dinner now. His heart ached for Liesl's pain, hating that she was the one who had discovered the gossip. He should have expected Elsa to do something like this…it was just her way of fighting. Classic upper-class female: don't tell someone you're mad at them but just get everyone else to hate them. He had always detested people who fought like that: sneaky, dishonest, without honor. But he had not counted on Elsa to be so vicious to his children, for they were just as much victims to this gossip as he and Maria were.
Maria…Max's proposed solution…
Gritting his teeth, he put all of his concentration into driving perfectly until he had finally gotten to the part of Salzburg he wanted to find. It was clear across town from his villa and the lake, but had the same type of homes. He drove slowly as he approached one in particular, so he could get a better passing glance. Through the iron gates he saw it briefly: the house he and Agathe had lived in throughout their marriage. All of his children had been born there, and he would have stayed there if not for Agathe's death. When that happened, all he could see inside that house were memories that caused him pain. So, within a week, he'd put the house up for sale; within three months he moved his family out and to the villa on the lake. He'd never seen it again until this day, even just in passing.
It looked do different than when he had left it: a beautiful three-story house in the shape of a square, painted yellow and white, surrounded by a spacious green clearing in a little forest on their border. Georg couldn't even recall who lived there now or if they were still there. He saw no signs of life coming from the house, no cars in the driveway, but also no signs for sale or closure. Whomever lived there was obviously away somewhere else.
For a moment he was tempted to stop the car to look at it a little longer, but it only lasted a moment. He resumed the natural speed and headed a short distance down to the edge of the road.
At the end of his road was his destination: a small but elegant stone church on a little hill with the forest nearby – The Church of St. Joseph. Several cars were already parked around it, so Georg assumed that a mass was still going on. Looking at the watch in his pocket, he saw that it was nearly six o'clock. If the old mass schedule had not changed, the service was nearly over. Georg got out of his car and went inside quietly. He slipped into the empty back pew – there wasn't a huge congregation, it not being a Sunday.
The first thing that Georg heard, even before slipping inside, was the sound of the old organ from the balcony above, playing the ending bars of the communion hymn. The few minutes of silence followed, and Georg knelt in the pew as was proper, sitting only when the priest did, just as the congregation did.
To his relief, the priest was Father Norbert, looking a little more wrinkled and silver than he had three years ago, but it was still him. Georg felt his heart ease for the first time all day. This was the man he had come to see, the man he had always considered his first and true role model and mentor. This man had baptized him as well as all of his children. Georg had served briefly as an altar boy when he was twelve in this church. The only reason he had not married Georg and Agathe was that the ceremony took place in Vienna, among her family. Three years ago, he had presided over the funeral of Agathe, and that was the last time Georg had seen Father Norbert. He realized now that he had not come back here because if he had looked into Father Norbert's eyes, the brown eyes of the man who knew him so well, he would see all he had done wrong to the fullest.
That's what he had to do now, and more.
Sitting in the back pew, left to his own thoughts about what he was going to do, Georg did not hear the final rites or the closing hymn. The people of the congregation passed him and he paid them no mind, just sitting there in his lost thoughts.
It was not until a gentle hand was placed on his shoulder did he come back to reality. Georg turned his head left and up, his blue eyes meeting the deep-set brown ones that held pride and affection. "I am glad to see you again, my son."
Immediately, Georg felt as if he were twelve again, being addressed like that. He felt more safe than he had in a long time. Standing up, he grasped his mentor's hand with both hands for a hearty shake. "Father…it's been much too long, and that is my fault."
Father Norbert looked closely at Georg, whom he had known from his christening. At Agathe's funeral, he had seen the face of a man in deep suffering hiding it behind a stone mask. Now he saw the mask was cracked beyond repair, and he was relieved to find the blue eyes not ice cold anymore.
"You have been through something like hell, haven't you?"
Georg laughed humorlessly and hated the lump that rose in his throat as he lowered his gaze for a moment. When he brought it back up, he asked, "Are you up for a long and overdue confession? I also confess I need your advice on an important matter."
Father Norbert nodded, and grasped Georg's shoulders. "I am just glad to see you again. Come, my son."
Still with a hand on his shoulder, Father Norbert led Georg to a separate chamber, where the confessional for reconciliation was.
For the first time in his life, Georg understood why Reconciliation in the Catholic Church was considered a sacrament; he could think of no better description of his time in there that evening as spiritually cleansing. Through his friend and mentor next to him he could feel the grace of God emanating.
Georg told him everything, absolutely everything, that had happened and what he had done since Agathe's death. He told of how he had seen Agathe everywhere, like a torment, how he'd sold the house so quickly and pushed his children away, how he'd treated them like sailors reverting to using a whistle, his frequent trips to Vienna, his empty and physical affairs especially with Elsa. Talking of Maria was the most difficult, but he held nothing back about what he'd felt or what he'd done. He was glad that a screen blocked his view of Father Norbert's face; though he knew it was there, Georg couldn't bear to see the shame he knew would be written there, however briefly.
For a man like Georg, trained in the military to control and hide his emotion, doing something like this was very hard. But it was not as hard as he imagined it would be. This was because he knew that Father Norbert, the man who had known him longest and best, would pass no judgment upon him and would listen with an open mind and heart.
Finally, Georg reached the end of his story, telling of the gossip that Elsa had spread like the plague, and the solution that Max had subtlely proposed. And Georg wanted to know what Father Norbert thought.
The priest sat in thought for a long moment, mulling everything over. Finally, he said, "The man I know you to be always tries to do the right and honorable thing, putting his family and nation before himself. I am glad beyond words to see this man back, and because this is what you are like, you know what you have to do. Or at least try to do."
"It's impossible, Father," said Georg, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees and shaking his head. "Do you think she would even want to look at me again? She saw a monster, and I am a monster."
"No, Georg, what you did was monstrous," said Father Norbert. "Those are very different things. There is a big difference between a good man making a mistake and a completely corrupted man."
"But I was corrupted then," said Georg. "I was a monster then."
"And you are not now," said Father Norbert. "Now you are your true self, no longer the shadow of yourself. Let her see that."
"But how when she will not even see me?"
"I believe she will see you eventually. The poor child sounds as desperate for answers as you had been; her curiosity will win out in the end. In the meantime, talk to the Reverend Mother. I have met her once before and is a very wise woman. She was right to be harsh with you when you visited her, because she loves that young woman as much as I love you. But she has heard you out and understands, I think, that what you did did not come from your heart but your grief. Talk to her, telling her this matter is urgent, and she can tell the young woman. After all, this is for the children's sake too."
"Yes, my poor children…" Georg covered his eyes briefly. "God, Father, I'd hoped I would never see my Liesl so upset…"
"I know, my son. No father wants to see their children hurt. This solution is not only the honorable thing to do, but it could prove to be very good for your family. After all, do not your children consider her a mother figure already?"
"A governess is one thing, a mother is another."
"From the way you describe her behavior with the children on the first day, she has already taken that place in their hearts, even if they don't know it yet. They love her, and she loves them."
"There is still a very big problem with this solution, Father," said Georg, feeling a little bit exasperated. "How can I, in good conscience, ask so much of her? It would be taking the life she's always wanted away, chaining her to the man who treated her unfairly from the start and whom she could never love?"
"Who says that she can never love you? She does not even know the real you yet, my son, so you cannot say for certain what she could feel. I am not saying this will be easy; quite the contrary, it will be difficult for you both. But if the both of you are determined to make the best of the situation…" His tone became a little more intimate. "Is there another reason you are not telling me, my son? Anything to do with Agathe?"
Georg sighed deeply. "On her deathbed, she told me to, when she was gone, find the courage to open my heart to love again, be happy again, and for the children to have a mother. Of course, for the past three years, I thought the task impossible. But…after everything that's happened…I know now that if the children were to have a true mother again…and if I were to love a woman again…it would be her…maybe I've begun already, I don't know…but I have to admit that to go down that path again terrifies me much more than it did the first time."
"Of course, Georg, that's natural, especially since you know what comes at the end inevitably. But at least you can be prepared for it this time, knowing it's coming, and, because of that, not take one moment for granted. And you also know that you would never intentionally hurt her, because you have seen what happens."
Georg sat still and silent for a long time, but, truth be told, he had known from the moment Max suggested it that it was the only right and honorable thing he could try to do, for his children's sake and for hers, though God knows she wouldn't see it that way.
His path, it seemed, was clear.
Emotionally drained and exhausted, Georg drove home after embracing Father Norbert in gratitude and visiting Agathe's grave after so long. Though he knew she was not there in the stone, he still felt that he had to officially 'let go.'
Coming home, he prepared himself a late dinner which he ravaged. After letting Max know he was back, he went straight to bed and lay there for a long time before sleep claimed him. He knew he had a long road ahead of him, however things would play out.
The next morning, Georg rang the bell of the abbey. He was glad to see that Sister Margaretta was the one who answer the door; she was at least familiar with him.
"Captain!" she said in surprise. "You're quite early."
"Please, sister," he said. "I must speak to the Reverend Mother about an urgent matter."
Hearing the serious tone of his voice, Sister Margaretta immediately let him inside and they walked down the corridor together.
