II.
He straightened his tie one final time before entering the lodge through the front door. Though the owner's residence was a detached house of decent size off to the side of the main lodge, Georg von Trapp had made it a daily habit to walk once around the entire main lodge to inspect it before entering through the front door. He did this both so he could see the impressive entryway as his guests would see it during the day, and so the staff would know he was on the premises. It was a leadership technique he had honed in his naval days, and such rituals always seemed to give him a moment of comfort and familiarity with which he could start his day.
"Good morning, sir." The young woman behind the front desk smiled brightly as Georg strode purposefully through the lobby.
"Good morning, Joan." He smiled politely back at her as he continued his route through the lobby, then veered off towards the staff wing. Opening the door to the staff wing, he continued down the hallway before coming to a halt in front of the door to his office. He thrust a hand into his trouser pocket and fished out the ring of keys, rifling through them until his fingers grasped the key he needed. He opened the door to his study and removed his fedora to hang it on the hat stand just inside the doorway before closing the office door with a satisfying "click." Walking around the large desk, he sat down heavily in the leather chair before he opened the top drawer and pulled out both his reading glasses and the ledger book he'd been working in the previous evening. He took a deep breath and began to thumb through the pages to find where he'd left off when suddenly his office door burst open.
"Alright, so we've had to shift the Meyers from the Blue Suite to accommodate the request by the Arnolds for the extra space. But we upgraded the Meyers to the White Suite, and we'll offer them two extra nights as an apology. That should appease Mrs. Meyer best. Other than that, everything seems to be in order. The new band should arrive this afternoon, and Mrs. Adams is having Wilson pick them up from the train station. Their rooms are ready, though the three gentlemen will have to bunk together. The lady will have her own room it looks like though, since we have that extra empty bedroom in that wing. I'll either have Mrs. Adams come find you once they arrive, or I'll track you down myself so you can meet them." The energetic young woman burst into his office with an arm full of papers, and a glass of orange juice in one hand. She placed the glass on the desk in front of him.
"Here, you should also drink this." She instructed, before she began sorting the papers in her hand to set on his desk in the various piles he organized his work.
"Good morning to you too, sweetheart." He smiled warmly at her, before his eyes fell on the glass of juice. "But shouldn't you be the one drinking this? You need to take care of yourself. You shouldn't be working so hard, not in your condition." She rolled her eyes, smiling back at him.
"I'm fine, Father. I swear, between you and Eddie always fussing, you'd think I was completely frail and helpless." She continued to organize the paperwork on his desk.
"Still, you're seven months along, Liesl. It's not going to get any easier on you." He lifted the juice glass gingerly and eyed it suspiciously, before trying to hand it back to her. "And you really should be the one drinking this. You know I mostly stick to my coffee in the morning."
"Be that as it may, you could stand to take a bit better care of yourself, Father." She paused in sorting her papers to work her way to perch on the edge of his desk. "I will admit, I'm excited to meet the new band you hired for the summer." He reclined back in his chair.
"Yes, I admit I'm intrigued as well. I was a bit leery of hiring them unheard and unseen, but I suppose I trust Max's word and recommendation."
"Uncle Max has heard them perform?"
"He said he heard the pianist sub in with another ensemble, and was impressed enough that he recommended the man's regular ensemble. Worse comes to worst, we'll at least have a pianist who can play."
"We always have one of those, though, Father," she raised an eyebrow suggestively at him.
"You know I am not an option." He lightly chastised her. It had been a solid number of years since he'd last touched an instrument, even longer since he'd sat at a piano. In his youth, he'd enjoyed spending hours at the keyboard, hammering away to hone his skills. When he was a young boy, he'd even entertained quiet dreams of making it his career. Then life had intervened, and the sea became his calling. Still, he'd enjoyed playing when he was at home with his wife and young children. After she died, he hadn't had it in him to even sit at a piano, let alone play, for many years. That is, until that fateful summer when he finally let music back into his home and into his heart. But like Cinderella, the magic of that summer had died the night of the grand and glorious party. While he didn't quite retreat into the despair that consumed him after the loss of his wife, he had again found himself in a place where he didn't have the heart to play the piano. He'd sing with the children, occasionally wield the guitar when they asked. But the piano was a bridge too far. Still was. He knew that if he sat at a piano, everything that had been stirred up that magical summer would come screaming back to him. And truth be told, he wasn't certain he was strong enough to weather that storm again. No, it was easier this way.
"Well, I think it would do you good to play again. But I also know it isn't my place." She gave him a knowing, but understanding look. Liesl had certainly inherited her mother's ability to read him well. Sometimes it was unnerving.
"Yes, well…." He cleared his throat and cast about for a change of subject. "I think I'll start my rounds. You should sit down, sweetheart, and rest." He stood up from the desk and began to work his way towards the office door.
"Don't wander off too far; the band should be here just after lunch. We can greet them and help them get settled! And we still need to talk about the plans for the fall!"
"I'll be around, Liesl. Please don't fret. It isn't good for the baby." Georg eased himself out of the office, and took a deep breath.
He headed down the hall towards one of the doorways that opened out to the back of the lodge, in search of a quiet moment and some fresh air. Liesl's comments had him a bit more rattled than he wanted to admit, and he needed to get his head back on straight. Some days he wished he still smoked, just so he could have the comfort of the motions and the dull buzz of the nicotine to soothe.
He would never admit to it, never tell anyone, but he carried that summer with him every day. He thought of her every day: in how he interacted with and cared for his children, in how he approached guiding them into adulthood and beyond, in how he cherished their love and attention, in how he met each and every morning. It was harder on him nowadays, too. Liesl was a married woman with a baby on the way. His first grandchild! And as he watched his children grow into men and women and flourish, he found his mind always returning to that summer. He wondered if she would be proud of him. He wondered if she would approve. He wondered how she would advise handling things like when Liesl's steady boyfriend had asked for permission to marry her. Or how would she have approached Louisa's desire to venture off so soon. Or Friedrich…
Georg allowed himself a moment to wallow. He missed her, desperately. Yes, he missed his first wife acutely, with every passing milestone. But he missed Maria with an almost palpable ache in his heart and soul. She had breezed in that summer, and completely rearranged his life for the better. And then just like that, she had disappeared and he had been forced to soldier on alone. Again. It had been nice that summer, to have a partner who cared about his children and loved them like he did. A partner with whom he felt at ease, like he could share deep thoughts and hidden emotions. Their meetings in the evening had morphed into more than just debriefings about the children though; they had connected, he was sure of it. But then again, maybe he was wrong. Hadn't she absconded into the night like a thief?
He snorted in amusement at his own thought. She was a thief: she'd stolen his heart when she left. And he hadn't even been prepared to give his heart to anyone that summer, or any. He had firmly believed his late wife had taken it with her. His relationship with Elsa had been a pleasant diversion, but he had never seriously thought he would feel anything for her but respect and gratitude and easy companionship, and so he thought his heart lay firmly dormant. How wrong he had been. He closed his eyes and indulged a moment, allowing his mind to take him back to those magical moments when he'd held her in his arms, drawn her close to him, closer than the dance truly required. He'd gazed deeply into her eyes and seen the yearning and, realizing she felt the same deep passion as he did, he'd desperately wanted to kiss her. But the moment had been broken by Elsa and her elegant quip. And then Maria had disappeared before he'd had the chance to get a grip on his feelings and sort out a plan.
Georg sighed and shook his head to snap himself out of his reverie. He wondered if that's why it hurt him more all these years: because she was still out there, living the life she was born to lead, and he was forced to love and adore her quietly, hidden in his heart of hearts. At least with his wife, he'd had the chance to say goodbye. It didn't matter now, he reminded himself. She was married to the Lord, and spending her days devoted to Him, ensconced in the thick stone walls of Nonnberg.
Kicking himself back into gear, Georg turned abruptly and returned inside the lodge to begin his rounds indoors. He'd learned early in his days in the Navy that a good leader was one every crew member felt was just as invested and committed to the mission at the smallest, lowest, invisible level as the highest. Georg had striven to make sure he emulated that philosophy not just on his own ships, but now the lodge that provided for his family and so many others.
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Georg readjusted his cuff link as he walked back down the hallway. Pleased with his productive morning, he had decided to head back to the front desk to ask the receptionist if the band had arrived yet. Since he'd signed them to a summer long gig on just the recommendation of Max, he was a bit anxious to finally have them in house so he could see exactly what he'd gotten himself and the lodge into for the summer. As he rounded the corner, Joan looked up and met his eye, smiling widely as she gestured towards the lounge.
"There you are, Mr. von Trapp! The band arrived a few moments ago and Mrs. Adams is showing them the lounge before she shows them to their rooms."
"Ah, good. Thank you," he nodded, just as he noticed a solidly built man wrestling a large cylindrical case in through the front door. Georg adjusted course for the doorway to the lounge, deciding he could best help who he assumed was a band member by getting the lounge doors open and ready.
As he arrived at the lounge doorway, Georg pushed against the doors with a bit more vigor than intended, and the doors flew open, startling the young waiter nearby who was resetting table linens in preparation for the evening. Georg Von Trapp paused in the doorway a moment, letting his eyes adjust to the room. He found Mrs. Adams standing in the middle of the dance floor, while a fair haired man of average stature stood near the piano. But standing in the middle of the stage, front and center, was…
No, it couldn't be! Georg blinked in shock.
A/N: Hello all! I hope you all are finding this as diverting as I am! I've got this story a good portion mapped out, and try to stay at least a chapter ahead before I publish anything. Though with the holidays and their hustle and bustle breathing down my neck, I can't in good faith make any promises. But hopefully you'll stick around and see where we go. Thank you all for taking time out of your day to "hang out" with me for a moment.