The children were much harder to wake the following morning than they had been, and Maria noted a return of many of the behaviors she had thought they had discarded. She actually had to follow through on her threat to Friedrich and had fully removed his pajama top before he finally took over in dressing himself. Kurt tried to convince Maria to let him stay home with a stomachache, and Liesl and Louisa were concerningly quiet. Maria knew they were angry with their father for leaving them, and she could not help but feel frustrated with him as well. He was the only parent these wonderful children had left, and he seemed to have no problem abandoning them for weeks on end. Truthfully, Maria thought he was lucky his children did not misbehave even more.

Unfortunately, Georg had left early that morning, so she could not say anything to him even if she had worked up the courage to do so. Instead, when breakfast was over, she sent Marta up to the playroom to play and hoisted Gretl onto her hip before stopping Louisa and Friedrich as they hurried out of the dining room. At the very least, she would deal with the problems she could handle. "Okay, you two, out with it," she remarked, giving them the best stern look she could muster.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Louisa said, her eyes darting to the side to meet Friedrich's. Maria sighed. Neither of them had a poker face.

"I know you're planning something, and I know it's something that your father would not approve of. I just want you to reconsider. If nothing else, do so out of respect for him."

"Why should we respect him? He doesn't care about us," Friedrich retorted.

"You know that's not true. Your father loves you."

"How would you know? You've only been here a week, and you'll be gone before we know it."

The words stung more than Maria expected, and it was easy enough to figure out why. Though she had only been in the von Trapp household for a week, she had grown to care for the children, and she did not want to see them hurt. "I know you are looking for attention from your father but believe me when I say that this is not the way to get it."

"It worked pretty well last time," Friedrich told her. "The school telegrammed him, and he came home early! And he actually stayed home for a whole month!"

"And I am going to guess his reaction was not all that pleasant for you."

Friedrich shrugged. "It was worth it."

Maria realized she was not going to get anywhere with her current tactic, so she switched her approach. "What about your father's business? By misbehaving, you are pulling him away from important business, possibly at a critical time. That doesn't seem fair to him."

Louisa snorted. "What business? He says he's 'lecturing,' but it's not hard to figure out that there's nothing for a retired naval captain to lecture on in Vienna since Austria has no navy! Even Brigitta knew there was something suspicious about it!"

"We think he's trying to get away from us and this house and anything that reminds him of Mother," Friedrich continued. The words sounded almost rehearsed, and Maria imagined they had discussed this theory with at least Liesl if not Kurt and Brigitta many times. "He's probably drinking away his problems in some hotel room in Vienna."

"Or letting some wealthy widow chase them away in her bed," Louisa added.

Maria's mouth dropped open in shock. "Where did you hear that?" she questioned. She doubted even Liesl would know enough about the adult world to come up with such a theory–even if it had a ring of truth to it. She was only eleven, after all.

Both children looked somewhat embarrassed. Friedrich finally spoke. "We heard a couple of the maids talking. They sounded pretty convinced."

Maria closed her eyes, considering her next step. She could not stop maids from gossiping–she knew enough about the world to realize that it was almost a universal truth that they engage in such talk. However, she had developed a good enough relationship with Frau Schmidt that she could probably suggest to the older woman that the maids be a bit more careful about who might be listening before engaging in such speculation again. Of course, that would not help the children's situation with their father. The fact of the matter was, they needed him home more often, and until he acknowledged that fact and made an effort to change his behavior, she doubted the children would truly change theirs. "What about a deal?" she finally offered. "You give me whatever you were planning to use for your prank at school today, and I will talk to your father as soon as he gets home and impress on him the importance of spending more time with his children."

Louisa and Friedrich exchanged a glance. "How do we know anything would actually change?" Louisa asked finally.

"I could also just search your bags," Maria suggested, knowing they needed to start moving soon or they risked being late for school which would mean punishment for all the children. The irony was not lost on Maria.

Louisa sighed. "Fine." She walked across the foyer and retrieved her school bag. She dug through it for a moment before pulling out two pinecones, a bottle of ink, a jar of honey, and a small bag of feathers. With some reluctance, she held all the items out to Maria.

"I'm not even going to ask," Maria said as she took the items and set them aside to dispose of later. "Now, you should get going. I'm sure Franz and your siblings are all waiting for you." They nodded, turning to the door, but Friedrich paused before leaving.

"You promise you'll talk to Father?"

"As soon as he returns. And perhaps we can come up with another way to get him to listen as well," she added, already considering a few possibilities. Friedrich gave her a genuine grin before racing Louisa out the door. Once the door closed behind them, Maria turned back to the infant in her arms. "What are we going to do about your father, hmm, Gretl?" she asked. The baby let out a string of incoherent babbles, reaching out a hand for Maria's face. Smiling, Maria placed a kiss to her palm before retrieving the items Louisa had given her and returning them to their rightful places.

By the time the children returned home that afternoon, Maria had the beginnings of a plan. After their snack, she helped them finish their homework quickly and then gathered them all in the playroom. "I have been thinking about what we can do to get through to your father," she told them. All of them stared at her eagerly, even little Marta. "I think we can work on a song to sing for him when he returns. I've always found that music is the best way to soothe a soul."

Liesl frowned, shaking her head. "Father doesn't like music. Not since. . ." She trailed off, but Maria knew how she wanted to end her sentence. Not since Georg's wife had died, the event that seemed to hover like a curtain between the children's past life and their current one.

"I doubt it's a problem of not liking music," Maria mused. "I think he's just afraid that it will remind him too much of his grief. But music is good for healing, too, and I think it might be just what he needs. It is hard to be sad when you hear your children's beautiful voices in harmony." They still seemed slightly skeptical, so Maria pressed onwards. "Did your father enjoy music before your mother passed away?"

They nodded, and Liesl spoke for all of them. "He used to play violin and piano all the time. He was good, too, better even than mother though he said he would be a horrible teacher which was why she taught us piano." Maria smiled at hearing that, growing more confident in her plan.

"What were his favorite songs?"

"Anything Austrian," Friedrich told her. "'Glorious Mountains,' 'Innsbruck,' 'Edelweiss.' I'm sure there were more, too, but I don't remember."

"Good. We can pick one or two of those." They seemed to be warming to the idea now, beginning to discuss what song was their father's favorite. As Maria listened to their debate, she sent up a silent prayer to heaven that she was right about what Georg needed.

The children ended up selecting two Austrian folk songs, both of which Maria fortunately knew well. They threw themselves into the project with abandon, spending every afternoon rehearsing the songs with Maria before they went out to play. In fact, they were so eager to learn the songs that they rarely dawdled over their schoolwork, finishing it faster than Maria would have thought possible most days. By the time two weeks had passed, even Marta could hum parts of the tunes and add in a sporadic word when prompted. Maria continued to pray that their efforts would bear fruit and start to melt the Captain's heart at least a bit. She did not expect a miracle–she knew that helping him build a true relationship with his children would take a good deal of time and effort. She was simply hoping for a start, for him to open up at least enough to see how wonderful a relationship with his children could be. Remembering how he had volunteered to drive them to the mountain the Saturday before his departure, she could not help but think that perhaps they had already laid the foundation.

One other benefit of the singing practice was that it left the children little time to plan pranks or other mischief. She was not the only one who had noticed either–Frau Schmidt pulled her aside one day to assure her that she had talked with the maids spreading unfounded rumors and, before she had left, the kindly older woman had thanked Maria sincerely for all she had done for the family. Maria had blushed and stammered out something along the lines of "It was nothing," but Frau Schmidt had not let her belittle her part in it. Maria had gone to bed that night with a happy heart.

Unfortunately, Georg did not appear at the two week mark. Maria saw the children's eager faces when Franz brought them home from school, but their faces soon fell when they saw no sign of Georg. Maria tried to cheer them up with a snack that had more sugar than normal (and likely more than Georg would allow, but if he was not there, she saw no reason why he should have a say in the matter), but it did not work. School work took much longer than usual, and no one wanted to sing afterwards. Maria decided not to push them but instead suggested a game of hide-and-seek. Surprisingly, only Kurt wanted to play, so Maria eventually let the children disperse to their rooms to grieve in their own individual ways.

Tuesday was, if anything, even more melancholy. Maria tried to remind the children that their father had said he would be gone at least two weeks, but her words fell on deaf ears. By Wednesday, she was desperate, and she suggested that they climb the trees beside the lake on their property after finishing their school work, knowing it was something that the children had been begging to do but which Maria had hesitated to allow, unsure of how safe they would be. She need not have worried–after finishing their work at a much faster pace than they had the previous two days, they all scampered out to the trees and swung their way into the branches as if they were monkeys. As they sat in the branches, chatting, laughing, and tossing a ball back and forth, Maria felt some of the tension dissipate. She only hoped Georg would be home soon. There were only so many ways she could distract seven rambunctious children.

As if God had heard her, she suddenly heard the motor of a car on the main driveway of the house. She glanced in that direction, trying to see the car, but the trees and shrubs around the driveway blocked her view. However, she knew that Franz was still in the house, and she did not think any of the other servants could drive which meant that the driver was either a visitor, of which there were very few, or Georg himself. Maria glanced up at the children who did not appear to have heard the car over their boisterous play. She decided not to say anything in case it was not their father. She did not think she could handle their disappointment.

A few minutes later, she heard the veranda doors open, and she glanced over to see the tall, broad-shouldered form of her employer. She smiled, wondering which of the children would notice him first. She considered alerting them to his presence, but she decided the surprise would be more fun for them. The Captain's eyes roamed over the lake for a moment before moving to the trees where his children were. His eyes narrowed, and he scowled as he moved to the steps of the veranda. "What do you think you are doing?" he bellowed as he nearly ran down the steps. "Come down from there at once!"

Maria did not say anything for a moment, too shocked by the difference between the joyous homecoming she had imagined and the reality she was now facing. She heard the rustling of leaves above her as the five climbing children (for Marta and Gretl were playing on a blanket nearby though Marta had stopped upon hearing her father's shout and was now staring at him wide-eyed) quickly descended the trees. Maria saw the same shock she felt in the faces of all the children, but underneath, she saw another, stronger emotion–fear. The realization that Georg had terrified his own children pulled her out of her own shock, and she turned to face him defiantly, ready to tell him exactly what she thought about his attitude to his children. Before she could say anything, however, he spoke again. "What in God's name are you wearing?" he asked. Out of the corner of her eye, Maria saw the children's gaze shift to her, and she held her chin high as she answered.

"Play clothes!"

"Play clothes! I do not recall authorizing the purchase of such frivolities."

"I made them," Maria told him honestly. "Out of the drapes in my room. There was plenty of material."

His eyes went wide. "You mean to tell me that my children have been roaming about Salzburg in old drapes?"

"And having a marvelous time!"

"What possible use could they have for play clothes?"

"I would hope the use would be rather obvious."

His eyes narrowed as he sensed her sarcasm. Maria knew she was treading on dangerous waters and should stop and take control of her temper, but she had always been far too outspoken. "They had perfectly good clothes when I left."

"Uniforms, you mean. They can't play if they're worried about messing them up."

"They can if they're careful!"

"They're children, Captain. They should not have to be careful about their clothes when playing!"

"I am their father! It is up to me to decide what they should and should not do."

"Perhaps if you were acting more like a father to them, I would be more inclined to agree." Fury suffused his face, and he took a step closer to Maria. Maria suddenly realized that perhaps she had pushed him too far, and she quickly turned to the children. "Go inside, children, and wait for us there. We'll be in shortly. Liesl, please take Gretl with you."

"You do not have the right to order my children around!" Georg shouted. "I tell them what to do!" The children remained perfectly still, their worried eyes darting between the two adults.

"For heaven's sake, look at them! Do you really want them to witness this?" Georg turned his burning gaze to the children who shrank back under his look. With what appeared to be considerable difficulty, he reigned in his anger long enough to talk to them.

"Please go inside. We will talk about your tree climbing in a bit." The children gave Maria another worried glance, but she responded with what she hoped was a reassuring smile and made shooing motions with her hands. Still seeming somewhat reluctant, Liesl picked up Gretl and Friedrich took Marta's hand before all seven children entered the house. Maria turned back to Georg to see that the fury had returned.

"You dare to come into my house, disobey my rules, and then criticize me for how I raise my children?" His voice was dangerously low, and he moved closer to her, almost like a predator stalking his prey. Maria knew she should be afraid, for everything about his posture screamed danger, but for some reason, she felt perfectly safe. She did not know why, but she felt, deep in her heart, that he would never hurt her. Perhaps it was a subconscious reaction to the Reverend Mother's description of him as a kind, honorable man. Or perhaps it was the fact that she had grown quite close to his children and simply could not believe that he could father them unless there was more to him than the angry man in front of her. Or perhaps it was even her own naivete–though Maria suspected she had lost that long before, and even her time in the Abbey could not fully restore it. Whatever the reason, she simply stood taller, refusing to back down.

"I came to this house to take care of your children. And that is what I am doing. Those children don't need a governess; they need a parent–someone to love them, protect them, care for them. As much as I try, I cannot be that person. Only you can."

"You presume to know a great deal about my children." He finally stopped pacing only a couple feet from her, his blue eyes boring into hers.

"I know that they pull pranks on the other governesses and at school in order to get you to notice them."

He scoffed. "They will cease the practice once they realize that it does not work."

"But you've already shown them it does! When Friedrich pulled the last prank at school, you came home early from your trip."

"And punished him quite severely, I assure you."

"He still considers it a victory since it got them all more time with you. Don't you see, Captain? They just want your time and attention. If you won't give it to them freely, they will do whatever it takes to get that attention. Is that really what you want?"

He actually paused for a moment and seemed to be considering her words, but he soon shook his head, almost as if clearing it. "It does not matter what I want. What matters is the fact that I need to be away on business sometimes, and they will simply have to accept that."

"Business? Is that what you call it?"

His eyes narrowed, and his voice dropped to a menacing tone again. "I do not believe I like the implication, Fraulein."

"It was not my implication. Your maids have been doing quite a bit of gossiping, speculating what you might be doing on these long trips. I am sure you can guess what their thoughts are."

"I would have thought you above such gossip."

"I am not the one who heard it. Tell me, Captain, do you really want your children wondering why you abandon them for copious quantities of alcohol and the beds of Austria's wealthy widows? Is that the example you want to set for your sons–to have them grow up believing that such actions are acceptable?"

She had finally managed to shock him, and Maria felt a momentary flare of triumph, but she managed to tamp it down. He opened his mouth, but before he could say anything, a chorus of familiar voices reached their ears. Both turned to see the children standing on the veranda, watching them carefully as they sang one of the folk songs Maria had taught them. They started out tentatively, obviously unsure of their father's reaction after the screaming match they had witnessed, but the many hours of practice quickly gave them more confidence, and their voices grew louder. Georg turned back to Maria, his mouth slightly open in shock. "Are they-"

"Singing, Captain," she told him, allowing herself a slight smile. "We wanted to surprise you when you returned home. They told me it was one of your favorites." He nodded absent-mindedly, turning back to his children. Then, much to Maria's surprise, he moved toward them, joining them in the song. He had a pleasing baritone which complimented his children's voices nicely, and Maria wondered if he had ever been trained. If not, he certainly had a good deal of natural talent.

When they finished the song, the children stared at him tentatively, and he surprised Maria once again by opening his arms. Immediately, all of the children ran to him, wrapping him in a tender embrace. Liesl passed him Gretl, and he lifted the baby above his head, kissing her cheek as he brought her down to cuddle against his shoulder. Maria was pretty sure there was not a single dry eye on the terrace; her own vision was quite cloudy with tears. "It seems your governess has been teaching you a good deal while I was gone," Georg remarked, looking back at Maria. He had lost all of the anger from his gaze, leaving it almost tender. Maria could not stop a blush from forming as she looked away.

"We know another one, too, Father!" Kurt remarked happily.

"Oh, you do? I would love to hear it."

Before they could start singing, Liesl remarked, "Actually, I believe it is traditionally accompanied by a piano. We have been making do with a guitar since that is what Fraulein Maria plays, but I would guess a piano would sound much better." She looked at her father expectantly, and her siblings followed her lead.

"And I am guessing that you want me to be that piano player." He glanced towards the house, his expression almost wistful. "I haven't played since. . ."

"You were always so good, I don't think it will matter," Louisa told him matter-of-factly. He looked back at his children, and Maria saw the internal debate on his face. She held her breath, but she need not have worried. In the end, he made the right decision.

"Go on and get the piano ready then. I need to talk to your governess, and I will be with you in a moment." The children eagerly went back inside, Friedrich taking Gretl from his father's arms. Once they had gone, Georg turned back to Maria, and she saw true remorse on his features. "You taught them to sing," he remarked, seeming almost in awe.

"They are eager learners, and they have a good deal of natural talent. I must say, hearing you sing just now, I understand where it comes from."

"Thank you, Fraulein," he said sincerely. "I had forgotten. . . well, a good deal, honestly. I truly am sorry for my outburst earlier. You are wise beyond your years, and I should have listened to you."

"I am sorry as well," she admitted. "I should also have controlled my temper better." They stood for a moment in silence, both looking a bit uncomfortable. Finally, Georg spoke.

"I should probably go to the music room. I do not want them to think I forgot."

"Of course."

"You should come, too, Fraulein."

"Oh, I couldn't! This is your time with your children."

"And you are the one who taught them to sing and showed me that I needed to take this time. Please, Fraulein, you have more right to be there than anyone." Maria saw nothing but an earnest entreaty on his face, and it did not take long for her to agree.

"Only if you are sure I won't be in the way."

"You won't." Together, they turned and walked back into the house. The children were all waiting by the piano, and they smiled widely when they saw their father and governess. Georg walked to the piano, pressing a kiss to Brigitta's head and ruffling Friedrich's hair before seating himself on the bench. He seemed so carefree and relaxed that it was hard for Maria to believe it was the same man who had shouted at her not fifteen minutes before. "What are we playing?" he questioned.

"'Glorious Mountains,'" Friedrich answered, and Georg smiled.

"An excellent choice." He flexed his fingers a bit before playing a few scales to warm up his hands. Once he had finished, he looked at his children. "Are you all ready?" They nodded, leaning closer, and Maria stepped back a bit, content to watch the interaction without interfering. Georg started playing, his fingers moving easily over the keys. He was obviously a skilled player, and Maria closed her eyes, enjoying the music he and his children created.

The children begged him to play more once he had finished, and he acquiesced more easily than he had the first time. It was only the chiming of the clock in the hall which announced it was nearing dinner time that ended the impromptu concert. He sent the children off to get ready for dinner, and Maria followed them, but she had not yet left the room when she heard Liesl approach him. "Father?"

"Hmm?"

"I was just wondering. . . I know Mother used to teach us piano and that stopped when. . . well, I was just thinking that maybe you could teach me now. I did really enjoy it."

Maria slowed her steps, curious about his answer. He thought for a few seconds, and Maria wondered if he was trying to think of a way to let her down gently. However, when he spoke, Maria realized that was not his problem. "Yes, I can do that." His voice was rough, and he seemed to struggle a bit with the words.

"We miss her, too, you know, Father," Liesl said softly.

"Oh, my darling girl, I know. And I am so, so sorry that I have not been around enough to help you with your grief." Maria left the room at that point, knowing that it was a private moment between father and daughter. Despite the sadness in their voices, however, Maria could not help but smile. She had realized over the past three weeks that no one in the family had truly grieved for Agathe since her passing. Perhaps now that Georg had let his children back into his heart, they could all do the grieving they needed in order to truly heal.