Chapter Fifteen

Maria read the thermometer and smiled, little Edit's temperature was holding steady and had not spiked over 100. When the child was three and four she would run terrible fevers that scared Brigitta half to death. Georg or Maria would rush over to help. Peter never lent a hand in caring for a sick child or helped with the older two. The more Maria thought about the entire situation the more she supported Brigitta's decision. She hoped that the judge would see the wisdom in ending the loveless union and see fit to grant custody to Brigitta.

The more exposure Maria had to PJ over the last weeks the more she was convinced Peter had not done his son any favors when it came to teaching manners and respect. The boy was insolent, disrespectful, at times downright rude to his mother and to Maria. He only seemed to obey Georg but even that was fleeting. Maria knew if it had been their boys instead of Brigitta's son, PJ would have found himself put behind the shed a few times over.

"Do you want some more tea, Angel?" Maria asked her granddaughter.

Edit shook her head and blew her nose in a tissue from the box Maria set by her on the sofa. "Will you read me a story?" Edit asked. Her voice was crackling and deep from the sore throat.

"Of course, I will, Maria replied. "What about this one?" Maria held up an old favorite book of Marta and Gretl's that Edit liked.

With the book agreed upon, Maria sat down to read. She barely got out the first sentence when the phone rang. "Let me get that, Dear, then we'll have a story."

Maria got to the kitchen phone on the third ring. "Maria…" It was Georg, but the background was noisy, not like she would expect from a courthouse. She could hear men getting sick, a woman yelling at the top of her voice…

"Georg? Where are you? Are you alright?" Maria asked in a rush.

"I think so," Georg replied. "I need you to come pick me up. I might need an x-ray, but…"

"An Xray?! Georg, where are you?" Maria's heart was pounding and her voice showed the anxiety she felt in her soul.

"I'm in jail," Georg replied. "It's a long story, but please, I'm in the tank with all the drunks and it smells worse that a submarine head in here. We have some emergency money on top of the refrigerator."

Maria sighed, "Georg, if you are all right when I get down to the jail, I'll kill you. I have to get someone to watch Edit, just stay put."

Maria hung up the phone as Georg shook his head. "Where would I go?" he asked no one as he looked at his cellmates, mostly young, mostly more inebriated than he or Max ever dared to be…and mostly being sick on their shoes. Still, to knock Peter in the teeth for everything he put Brigitta through, priceless.

Maria called Louisa to come and sit with Edit much to the seven-year-old's protests, then called Max. "I need you to pick me up, we have to go get Georg."

Max could tell by Maria's tone she was agitated. "Okay, where is he? Didn't he go to court with Brigitta this morning? Did the car break down again? I told him that car is too old to drive."

"No," Maria snapped. "The car didn't break down! He went to court with Brigitta this morning and now he's in jail!"

"He's where?" Max couldn't believe it. It had been 50 years since he or Georg had taken a trip to the greybar hotel.

"He's in jail!" Maria replied. "He called and I suppose I have to go and sign for him now. You can hear the other uh…prisoners in there, it's very loud. Please come get me."

Max began to laugh, "I'm on my way. Bring the charge plate, you might need it."

It didn't take long for Max to retrieve Maria or to get to the police station. Brigitta was waiting outside the building when they arrived. "What happened? How in the world did your father end up getting arrested?"

"Oh, Mother, it was so unexpected. I had to go to the bathroom, and I didn't want to walk past Peter and his parents. I left Papa alone in the hall and I don't know, I guess Peter said something or John did and the next thing I know there's a scuffle, Peter's on the floor, and the police have Papa in handcuffs."

"All right, well, I'm going to get him and we are all going to go home," Maria said firmly. "Honestly…"

Maria disappeared inside. Brigitta looked at Max "Is she angry?"

Max shook his head, "I think she's just baffled. Twenty-five years and your father hasn't been arrested before.This is a first for her."

"I know Papa has a temper, but Peter is 38 years old, he really could have hurt Papa though…didn't look like that when I came out of the bathroom."

Max slipped his arm around Brigitta. "Your Papa has won his fair share of brawls in his day, and nothing sets him off like someone hurting his family."

"I can't imagine Papa ever getting into a fist fight," Brigitta said with a shake of her head.

"Oh, my dear, I could tell you blood curdling stories about that," Max replied. 'Let's get a coffee while we wait."

The desk sergeant appeared in front of the holding cell. "Von Trapp," he called out to Georg. "Your wife is here."

Georg stood up, "That means you're going to let me out of here?"

The younger man shook his head, "She wants to talk to you first."

Georg thought he had died and gone to Hell. First the confrontation at the courthouse, then his arrest, and now he was in deep with Maria. Not to mention his hand really hurt.

"Come on and follow me, Mrs. von Trapp," the Sergeant, a fortyish Irishman with stunning blue green eyes and wavy brown hair. "He's right this way. He's going to need some medical attention. That hand looks like it could be broken."

Maria sighed, "I don't know what got into him, Sergeant…"

"Reagan, ma'am," was the reply. "My officers said the other guy had it coming, shooting off his mouth. It's a first for us to see someone of your husband's uh…that is an older gentleman knock someone out like that. Thankfully, there was no permanent injury done except to your husband's hand and the victim isn't pressing charges."

"Thank God," Maria sighed. "Thank you again, Sergeant Reagan."

Maria looked at Georg with a look that was two parts disapproval, one part frustration, and just a dab of humor. In the end, humor won out as she observed her very straight-laced looking husband among disheveled, intoxicated younger men and few of the older variety. "What's funny?" Georg asked. He was clearly not amused.

"Georg von Trapp," Maria sighed. "What am I going to do with you? Getting into a fight…"

"It wasn't a fight," Georg interjected. "I knocked the weasel out flat, lucky for him, or he'd have gotten worse."

"Georg," Maria shook her head. "You could have been hurt. What on earth were you thinking?"

"I wasn't," Georg admitted. "It was instinct, pure and simple. Nice to know I've still got it though. Who else knows about this?"

"So far, Max and Louisa, but I'm pretty sure the rest of Stowe will know by nightfall," Maria replied.

Georg sighed, "If Max knows all of Vermont will know by nightfall. Why didn't you just take out an ad?"

"Georg, you are hardly in a position to be critical right now," Maria replied. "What happened?"

Georg sighed, "We got out of the courtroom and Brigitta was…Peter is determined to make this thing ugly. He wants her to capitulate I think, give in and come back, but you know she can't now and won't.

"All I intended to do was have my say, tell him he had a few things to learn about being a man. That a man doesn't need to manipulate and possess, he is supposed to guide and support, all things Peter hasn't done. When he said…he…"

Rage was burning inside Georg's heart as he recalled the events. "He said he should have "put her in her place" long ago and let her know who the "man" in the family was. Then he said if she gave in and came back, he would make sure she knew where she stood. He said it in such a menacing way…I lost my temper and told him if he's gonna try that he has to get through me. Then I hit him. I haven't liked how he treated Brigitta for years and I hit him."

Maria nodded trying to imagine the tones and references that made Georg lose his well honed decorum. She was quietly contemplating it until Georg asked, "Are you going to bail me out?"

"Bail's all paid up," Maria admitted. "I wanted to talk to you first. Georg, you cannot do this again. You said yourself the parents can't get involved. I know how angry you are about the whole thing and I'm sure Peter was out of line, but please…Think about Brigitta. If Peter did press charges, oh! You must control your temper! You have been restless and moody for weeks, ever since we settled things I have noticed. If you are still upset with me, then let's clear the air and not act so impulsively."

Georg ran a hand through his hair as one of his young cellmates made a groaning noise. "I told you," Georg said over his shoulder. "Keep your head as far between your legs as you can, kiss your own bum, and it'll pass faster."

"Giving advice to the inebriated now," Maria shook her head. "Georg, are you going to pull it together and deal with whatever you need to deal with so this doesn't happen again?"

"It's nothing to do with us," Georg assured her. "I'm not angry with you, we have moved far beyond that issue. I'm angry with myself, it's just…I knew it. I knew it in the limo as we drove to the church, I knew it."

Maria reached her hand up and held Georg's through the bars, "Still taking on the world's responsibilities all on your own…No wonder I love you so much."

"I love you," Georg whispered, earning a few "awws" from the sobering crowd in the holding call.

Sergeant Reagan let Georg out of jail, Maria signed the paperwork then examined her husband's hand. "It's already swollen and black and blue," she sighed.. "Max, we'll need you to drive us to the hospital. Brigitta, why don't you take our car and go on home. We can talk about this all later."

No one planned on arguing with Maria, not with her no nonsense tone in her voice. Brigitta headed out toward the farm and Max, with barely suppressed humor, started to drive Georg and Maria to the hospital.

"Do I want to see the other guy?" Max asked as he looked at Georg's swollen hand.

"He has a matching welt," Georg almost boated. "On his jaw. Seems there are still a few tricks in this old sea dog."

Max chuckled "I think I'll get a cup of coffee across the street while you're dealing with that. Looks almost as bad as the time you got into that fight with those army ops guys in Budapest and that one guy ducked, you ended up punching the wall."

"This was more satisfying," Georg replied as he got out of the car and offered his left hand to help Maria out of the car.

A/N: So, our Captain lost his cool and literally knocked Peter out. These things happen. Thanks for sticking with this story. We are going to be wrapping up soon. In about five or six chapters. I have other work on the horizon as well.

Enjoy and please do leave a review…I rhymed!!