A Time to Miss
One morning in early April, Marta woke up with the dawn, as usual. Getting out of bed quietly, the seven-year-old went to the window to look out at the lake. The sun was just barely rising, giving the silver mist a golden tinge that was beautiful. Marta looked down where she could see the patch of earth that belonged to her mother, sister, and her. The tiniest speckles of purple were enough to raise such joy in Marta as she had not felt since her mother had come back.
Without a second thought, Marta rushed out of her room without waking Gretl and ran all the way to her parents' room. She expected to run through the living room and find her mother in the bed, but when she got into the living room, she was surprised to find her mother asleep on the sofa in front of the fireplace, wrapped tight in a blanket. Why isn't she sleeping in her bed? I'm sure no monsters would be under mother's bed.
Remembering just why she was coming to wake her mother up, Marta abandoned the thought and rushed to the couch, giving her mother a gentle shake. Maria's eyes opened and she said groggily, "Marta, what is it?"
"Mother, the first flowers are in bloom!"
A minute later, Maria had come out onto the verandah, wearing only her nightgown and no slippers; she'd told Marta to go and wake Louisa, who would never forgive them if she was kept out of the loop. On the steps, she stopped, the sight of the sun beginning to rise through the mist and over the lake taking her breath away. It was like God giving her a good morning kiss.
Oh, Georg, I wish you were here to watch this with me. No wonder you always woke up with the dawn, if this was the sight that greeted you. And now it is truly spring here; our favorite season. I hope it isn't foolish for me to hope you will come back home before it ends…Maria often did this – mentally speak to her husband as if he could hear her.
Before she could do that anymore, the sound of two small pairs of bare feet running made her turn around. Both Marta and Louisa were running to her, dressed in just their nightgowns, too and looking excited (though Louisa was still rubbing the sleep out of her eyes). Marta said excitedly, "Let's see the flowers, Mother!"
The three females hurried down the stone steps and to their bit of earth. Sure enough, the first purple pansies had opened to the sun's gentle bidding. "Oh, look at your hard work, girls!"
All three of them knelt down in the dirt and grass to tentatively touch the blooms. "Do we need to water them?" asked Louisa, turning the dirt around the flowers without hesitation.
"Not today, I don't think," replied Maria, pointing to the clouds coming in from the north. "They'll bring some rain today, which means we'll probably have to put our outing to the mountains on hiatus." Both Louisa and Marta groaned, and Maria nodded sympathetically. "Well, it is a Saturday, and if it doesn't rain tomorrow, we can take the outing after mass." Both girls instantly cheered up.
Since there was no work to do in the garden now, Maria put both arms around her daughters and they watched the sun come up until the full golden disk was above the horizon. After it did, Marta excused herself to go to the bathroom, and ran back into the house after a kiss from her mother. Louisa stayed put, and spoke softly after a moment.
"You think Father is watching this now?"
Just as with every time Georg was mentioned to Maria, she felt a twinge of pain in her heart, but also a warming effect to balance it out. She took a deep breath and answered, "Oh, yes. Your father always wakes with the dawn, no matter where he is."
Looking at the fourteen-year-old daughter, Maria was once again reminded that, though Louisa did not resemble Georg physically, she resembled Georg internally more than the other children. Like her father, she was very guarded about her emotions, had a mind that worked logically, tended to hide her emotions rather than face them, always tried to be strong, and was slow to trust. She had been the last one to open up to Maria after she arrived, and the last one to open up to Georg again after the reconciliation. But, because she was so like him, Maria knew that Louisa had as loving and vulnerable a heart as anyone, perhaps even more so, and Maria knew she missed her father terribly. The twenty-two-year-old knew that trying to force Louisa to talk would have the opposite effect, so Maria just rubbed her back soothingly.
It worked; Louisa talked. Her eyes were a bit overbright. "I never had much in common with my mother, so it really annoyed me when people said we looked alike. She loved girly things, was always a perfect lady, and didn't understand why I preferred to play with my brothers rather than my sisters. But when she died…it wasn't until then that I realized how much I loved her and wished I'd made more of an effort to be close to her. And then Father…well, you know what happened…we were really close before then…I couldn't bear losing him for good…"
Louisa quickly wiped away a tear and Maria kept rubbing her back, and took her hand with her own. "Neither could I, Louisa," she said, her voice rich with emotion. "That's why we have to keep the faith. We have to remember that he loves us all so much, and that he will do everything he can to come home. Your father knows what he's doing at sea, and he knows how to take care of himself. We have to have faith, Louisa, we just have to."
The teenager turned her head to look at her mother, her eyes still overbright. "It seems so easy for you, Mother. How can this be so natural for you?"
Maria had never heard Louisa so vulnerable, almost helpless. Louisa's words surprised her, and she was amazed that she had portrayed that to everyone. Maria gave a sad smile and squeezed Louisa's hand. "I'll tell you something, Louisa – it's never easy. I worry just as much as I hope, more on bad days but less on good days. Do not think you and your siblings are the only ones who worry. But I can tell you my secrets if you would like."
Louisa nodded eagerly.
"First, I think of your father, and how he wouldn't want me to worry. Second, the alternative to keeping the faith would just lead us down a dark hole that would be impossible to climb out of."
Louisa looked closely at her mother for a moment before she nodded, reassured. Maria squeezed her shoulder and kissed her forehead. "All right, why don't you go inside and get dressed?"
Her daughter nodded and stood up. But before she could walk away, Maria spotted something that made her grab Louisa's nightgown and say her name in order to stop her.
Turning her head, confused, Louisa said, "What is it?" before looking down at her mother's hand holding the skirt of her nightgown. Then she spotted what her mother had spotted, turned pale, and sank back down on the ground with her mouth open. She put a hand on her lower stomach and said in a shocked, breathless voice, "I…I didn't even feel it, I got out of bed so fast…and I didn't feel anything else…"
Her eyes looked everywhere but at the red stain on her nightgown. Maria rubbed her arm comfortingly. "Don't worry, that's perfectly normal, darling. Normally this happens at twelve or thirteen, so I'm glad it's happened."
"I'm not," snapped Louisa. Realizing her tone was unkind, she sighed and said, "I'm sorry, Mother, it's just…I've been dreading this happening."
"Why, Louisa?" asked Maria, though she suspected what it was; she was right.
"This means I'm not a child anymore, and now that I'm physically a woman, I'll be expected to act like one, right? I have to stop being a tomboy and become a proper young woman?"
To Louisa's surprise, Maria laughed outright, taking her hand again. "Oh, Louisa, not at all. Look at me – I've been menstruating for ten years and that doesn't stop me from climbing trees."
A look of relief washed over Louisa's features, and now they both laughed. When the laughter had faded away, Louisa gave a tiny groan. "I just don't want to grow up now. It was hard watching Liesl grow up, and become interested in boys and daydreaming about being a lady. I'm not ready to face that kind of world yet."
Maria smiled and stroked Louisa's long blond hair. "Darling, you have plenty of time before you need worry about that. And I'm glad you don't want to face it for a long time, because, with four other daughters, that will be a great piece of news to give to your father."
Smiles lit up both of the fair-haired females, and they embraced. "Come on," said Maria, helping Louisa up. "I'll help you clean up and show you what to do."
Maria's least favorite part of the day was night, after she had put all of the children to bed. She walked into her living room and laid down on the sofa, staring into the empty fire place as she listened to the rain she had predicted pattering against the window pane. Pulling the blanket she had brought in from the bedroom days ago around her, Maria knew she should get up and start a fire. But she didn't find the strength to as she thought of the day and what was to come in upcoming days.
Well, Georg, another milestone in one of our children's lives. The only comfort I have is that, even if you had been here, you probably wouldn't be able to do anything. At least Louisa feels better about it now…
I'm so scared about Gretl's birthday in three days. I know you've left her a letter and gift, and we're giving her a little party. But when I asked her what she wanted for her birthday, all she said was that she wanted her Papa home. And what could I tell her? I froze before quickly changing the subject. Oh, Georg, what should I do? If she cries, I won't be able to handle it…
Now Maria felt tears well in her own eyes, and she bit her lip. She tried to focus on something positive, like her trip to Vienna with Max and Liesl next month for Dominik's Senior Recital. It would be a chance to see, not only him, but Philomena and Kristoph again. But that was a month away yet, and so Maria would just have to stick to her resolution of finding happiness in the children and the little moments that came with each day, like the first pansies in bloom and laughing with Louisa and watching the sunrise with her daughters, knowing that Georg would be watching it too.
A month later found Maria, Liesl, Dominik, Philomena, Max and Kristoph sitting in the comfortable parlor of the Amman household after the senior recital of the Vienna Conservatory of Music. It had been a beautiful concert, and the result had been Maria being the first to reach Dominik afterwards and hugging him for long minutes. No one objected; she had a very good reason.
Now, the brother and sister sat on the sofa with Maria resting her head on Dominik's shoulder. She twirled a full tea cup in her hands as it turned cold. Dominik gently nudged her. "Maria, please finish that," he said softly.
The sister sighed, nodded, took a long sip. Then she murmured back to him, "I'm sorry, I don't have much of an appetite these days." She was grateful no one commented and just gave her looks of comfort, and tried to ignore the concern she saw in every pair of eyes looking at her. When she finished her cup, she set it down back on the tray and said softly, "I'm going to bed, if you don't mind. I feel really tired."
Everyone nodded and everyone gave her a kiss and hug good night before she left the room.
"Oh, Max," said Philomena with a tear in her eye. "How long has she been like this?"
Max sighed. "She's been getting paler since May began, and more tired. She doesn't run as fast, doesn't laugh as often, and the sparkle is gone from her eyes and smile. She's tired more often than she once was, and she prefers to be alone more…" He took her sister's hand. "I think it's really taking its toll on her: missing him."
Philomena sighed, wiping the tear from her eye while Kristoph took her other hand. "I think she's lost some weight, too, and that frightens me, for she is thin enough as it is."
Liesl nodded, looking worried and sad. "And that isn't all. This morning, I woke up and heard her in the bathroom. It sounded like she was sick, which makes no sense. She doesn't eat as much as she used to."
"That's it," said Philomena, bringing her palms down on her lap. "Max, the moment you three return to Salzburg, take her to see Hans; he'll know what to do."
Liesl had a contemplative look on her face. "I've been thinking…do you think she could…be with child?" When silence was the only answer she got, she explained, "I mean, I've heard that morning sickness is a symptom, so…"
Everyone looked at Philomena, who was the only mother in the room and therefore the expert in the room. Her face scrunched up in thought and she slowly shook her head. "I don't think so…It's true being sick in the morning is the most common symptom, but so are food cravings and getting fuller in certain areas. Maria, by contrast, has barely any appetite and is losing weight rather than gaining it. No, I think this is…something else, which means she is sick and she needs to see Hans."
Max nodded. "I'll try, but you know how stubborn she can be, just like Georg. I remember once, in Greece, he did everything but admit he had a stomach bug; it was quite a funny sight if it weren't so pitiful." He looked at the twenty-two-year-old rising star. "You should talk to her, Dom, she always listens to you."
Dominik smiled. "Whether she acts on it depends greatly on the situation. But I'll try."
Another moment of silence before Kristoph spoke. "I know Georg would never admit to anything wrong in his letters, but how do you think he is?"
Liesl gave a shaky sigh. "He doesn't write as often as he did before her birthday, but we expected that. He's had to resort to writing one long letter for us children and a separate letter for mother, so letters don't come nearly as often…Mother barely looks happy on days when letters don't…Excuse me…" Her voice was beginning to become choked, so Liesl quickly got up and exited the room.
Dominik immediately stood up and followed her, finding her on the back terrace crying. Wordlessly he pulled her into his arms and hugged her, and she hugged him back, letting herself really cry for the first time in a long time. Dominik rubbed her back and kissed her head, acting on instinct and heart alone.
When Liesl had calmed down, Dominik murmured, "It's going to be all right, Li."
Liesl sniffled, her cheek resting on his chest while his chin easily rested on the top of her head. "How can you be sure?"
Dominik sighed and pulled his head back to look at her. "I can tell you why, but you have to promise not to tell Ria. I know how bad that sounds, but you'll understand why after I tell you."
Liesl looked into Dominik's hazel eyes, and knew that he wouldn't just tell her this to give her fleeting comfort; this was important, and he wanted her to know.
So she nodded, and he talked.
A week later, in the middle of May, it was a quiet Monday afternoon. The children had about a week and a half more of school, and were itching for summer, hoping that the change of season might bring their father home as well. But the hope was not strong.
Maria came slowly down the stairs, looking a little better than she had the week before. She was trying her best to build herself up again, by eating more and trying to find more of those joyful moments. She hated having everyone watch her like she were a ticking time bomb, worrying constantly about her.
She blamed herself. The onset of the morning nausea three weeks ago had disheartened her and made her depressed. There was rarely a day she felt well enough to eat more than a few mouthfuls of food. But the trip to Vienna for Dominik's concert and the end of her nausea a few days ago were healthy breaths of fresh air for Maria. Already she was looking a little less pale and her appetite was slowly but surely coming back.
At the foot of the stairs, she saw Max heading towards the back doors. He spotted her, stopped and gave her a friendly smile. "Cook just made some cookies and lemonade, care to join me while we wait for the children to come home?"
Maria nodded and gave a slightly smaller smile in return, her hand in her pocket flexing a little so she could feel Georg's watch, his first letter from sea and the first letter he'd sent her after her birthday. These were her talismans, and some days she felt they and the children were the only things that kept her going.
But before they could move in that direction, the door bell rang. Both Max and Maria looked towards the front door, wondering who could be calling, and watched Franz hurry to answer the door. Both adults stayed put to see who it was.
Franz opened the door to reveal a tall man in a black uniform with a blood red band around his left bicep with a white circle and swastika in the middle. The sight of him instantly filled Maria with an ice-cold, razor sharp fear. Has Georg been found out? Is he in trouble?
"I'm here to see the Baroness Von Trapp," the man said, his tone neutral, emotionless and distant.
Maria felt her fear strengthen and welcome a new possibility as to why this man was here. An unthinkable possibility.
Franz looked over his shoulder and saw Maria and Max standing there. Knowing it would not bode well if he barred him from entering, Franz said, "She's right here," and motioned him in. The soldier strode in like he owned the house, his boots echoing rudely in the hall. Maria suppressed the nauseous feeling, knowing how Georg would feel to have one of them in his home in full uniform.
Maria's hands had begun to shake as the fear ascended her body. The touch of Max's hand on her arm helped her say, "I am she," in little more than a breath. She felt sure her eyes were as wide as saucers.
"Baroness," the soldier said, nodding his head slightly, the timber of his voice now sounding regretful instead of distant. "I am sorry to inform you…"
Don't say it. Maria bit her lip as those words flitted through her brain.
"The submarine Captain Von Trapp commanded early this morning near Greece had mechanical failure."
Don't say it. Don't say it. Her eyes filled with tears. "Is…my husband…all right?" How she managed to stutter out those words she would never know. Max's grip tightened around her arm.
The man sighed regretfully. Don't say it…Don't say it…
"The crew had yet to board the vessel, and, as is the duty of the Captain, he was the first aboard it. But from the moment the engines were turned on…"
Maria lost the explaining words as her mind screamed at the man DON'T SAY IT, PLEASE DON'T SAY IT!
"…There was an explosion…and all that we could find before the sub sank was his Captain's hat."
The image of the uniformed man blurred completely as tears flooded into Maria's eyes. Please…
"No one would survive that explosion, Baroness…I am so sorry, he is gone."
You said it. That was the last conscious thought Maria had before everything went black and she couldn't think anymore.
On their true wedding night they made love three times. The third time, Georg entered in one thrust, and Maria no longer felt pain, only pleasure, at the sensation of her husband filling her. She closed her eyes and moaned.
"Look at me."
She opened her eyes. His eyes were blue fire. "Promise me."
"Anything."
"Always believe I will come back to you. No matter how bleak things seem, no matter what you hear, no matter how dark it seems…please, my love, don't believe I won't come back to you."
Her eyes filled with tears at this fierce and vulnerable gaze and tone. Now she felt afraid. How could he be so certain? "Georg…"
"Please, Maria, promise me." His tone was both fierce and vulnerable, and his eyes begged for what he wanted. Never before had they been so close, so open, so bare before each other, connected in body while connecting in soul and heart.
Maria nodded. "I promise." Her arms tightened around his back, and lifted her head to kiss him as they began to move in that most ancient dance of true lovers and soulmates.
