Hi everyone! DOMH is back - finally! Apologies for the wait (if you were waiting, of course!). The fall was busy and it just seemed that writing was the last thing I felt like doing in my spare time. A guest review a week ago was kind of the kick in the pants I needed to get back into the heads of Maria and Georg again. We're headed towards the puppet show in the coming days, but for now, here's the promised 'interlude' that involves a billiards game between the Captain and his governess. Happy reading, stay well, and keep calm and carry on! CandB
Every now and then one paints a picture that seems to have opened a door and serves as a stepping stone to other things." ― Pablo Picasso
As Max came down the stairs into the foyer he was struck by the sound of silence. He was often late to rise, but usually came upon the children and their governess having breakfast, and more frequently of late, Georg would be sitting proudly amidst the din.
But not today.
As Max came around the corner into the dining room, he spotted Elsa sitting alone in Fraulein Maria's usual spot nursing a coffee and a cigarette as she leafed through the pages of a magazine.
She had heard his footsteps and lifted her eyes to meet his. She raised her left eyebrow and Max could not help but laugh.
"My dear, you look most unimpressed!"
"That doesn't even begin to cut it, Max. It's been a terrible morning and it's not even 10am!", Elsa sighed.
"Well," he replied with a chuckle. "Do tell Maxy all the disgusting details."
"Well, Georg and I had a disagreement, and then I ended up having to eat breakfast with the younger children, the grubby little elves that they are. The little nun has let them run too wild, in my opinion. Then I ended up with a frog in my handbag - that was the icing on the cake!"
Max lifted his face to the ceiling, laughing uncontrollably!
"I'm glad you find this funny!". Elsa shot back in her most unimpressed tone.
"That's the oldest trick in the book with these kids, my dear. I dare say it's a sign of affection." Max continued with a laugh. "I have had my share of their antics, and I know Maria was welcomed with a pinecone on her chair and a frog in her pocket within hours of arriving here!"
"My, my, Maximillian! You seem to know a lot about what went on here before we arrived. I dare say Fraulein Maria's errant ways are wearing off on you, too!" Elsa huffed as she tried to feign interest in the magazine in front of her.
"Well, yes, or course, she's a spritely young thing." Max pondered his next words before continuing. "You'd be a fool not to notice her and enjoy her company. I would say everything and anything she thinks and feels comes out of her mouth - no filter. Honest as they come, that one! Not to mention that she has a wicked sense of humour for a nun!"
"A fool not to notice her, Max?" Elsa cried. "Hah! I really don't understand how that do-gooding-failed-nun manages to attract men the way she does. Young Reinhardt was positively smitten and Georg was so incensed he was practically vibrating! If I had my way, I'd send her back to the Abbey in an instant!" Elsa spat.
"Elsa? Please tell me you're not jealous of the governess?" Max replied.
Elsa pursed her lips before placing her cigarette between her lips and taking a long draw and targeting the chandelier over the table with the smoke. She tapped the ash into the ashtray before speaking.
"Perhaps...Well, of course not, what a ludicrous thing to suggest Max!" Elsa replied with a sarcastic laugh.
"She can't hold a candle to me, nor to most ladies in Salzburg, I presume, not that I've met any of them. Yet, there's just something about her that drives the men wild?! Virginity, I suppose. I'm definitely struggling to figure out the nature of this hold she has on him. She is the reason we had a fight after all!"
Max winced at how easily Elsa could make things sound so devious.
"Come now, Elsa, tell me all about your little disagreement. Perhaps if you were not sitting in the governess' chair things may look a little better? Perspective is important " Max said with a laugh.
"Well," Elsa huffed exasperatedly. "Yesterday I overhead Georg talking to the three oldest children, telling them he and the girl would take them riding this morning, and I hardly thought that was appropriate. Georg is so stubborn these days, so rather than deal with Georg directly and trying to make him see sense, I decided to see if i could get her on my side for once. So, I asked her to do some emergency alterations on my dress, just so I could make sure she was too busy for riding. She hesitated at first, but I did get her to agree."
Max stared open-mouthed. Elsa was most definitely jealous of the little nun.
"But my dear," Max replied, "she knows horses. Hell, she even delivered one a few weeks ago - and that was not a simple scenario! She worked through that on her own and even impressed the veterinarian! I understand that she rode with Georg and John in Innsbruck at John's behest! There's a number of very good reasons why Georg would ask her to help him, horse sense aside. She has helped to bring them back together - Georg and the children - as you know. Besides, you don't ride, so isn't this a little bit too much analysis and angst given the situation?"
"Ha! You're obviously under the little tramp's spell, as well!" Elsa exclaimed.
Max gave Elsa his most unimpressed look. Elsa really was wrapped up in some emotional turmoil over the morning's events.
"Ok, I am sorry, those are strong words, and I take them back." Elsa replied as she turned towards the window for a moment to compose herself.
Max began to dig into a streudel and Elsa spoke again.
"Anyway. If you must know the details, Max. I got out of bed early and came down to breakfast with my dress, only to find Georg and the girl and the three eldest already eating. She was dressed for riding despite our agreement yesterday. I may have been a little strong in how I called her out on her defiance, but my word, Georg blew his top! I don't think I have ever seen him so angry before, and it was directed at me! He told me that in no uncertain terms was I to speak to Fraulein Maria in that way, and just because she was a governess didn't mean she deserved to be talked to 'in that way', particularly when she was following his orders."
Max grimaced while brushing the crumbs from his mustache.
"Oh, oh oh, and that is not all, Max," Elsa continued. "Then he went after me...me! He accused me of overstepping rank by assigning work to the girl when they already had plans. Even if they didn't have plans, it was made clear that I did not call the shots as far as his children were concerned. 'In no uncertain circumstances', he said, would Maria be doing my mending now or at any time, and that he would arrange for Franz to drive me into Frau Heineman's shop if it was so urgent. He then turned to the girl and told her that after she helped the children with their riding lessons, he was giving her the afternoon off! It was humiliating, Max!" Elsa cried.
"Oh my..." Max replied thoughtfully. This was serious. He knew Georg took rank and file very seriously and would cut down his best friend if he felt he had overstepped. But this was Elsa, the woman he had been courting unofficially for some time now. Max knew that Elsa would have been blindsided; after their many years of togetherness, Max had a pretty good read on Georg and would have been able to navigate and prevent a Von Trapp blow-out! Elsa, not so much. Max had to try to patch this up somehow - the bringing together all that lovely money depended on it!
"Elsa, you must understand that you certainly over-stepped this time, especially when you just admitted you did it on purpose. He would see through your intentions in an instant; that kind of sense is what made Georg a war hero. He has a very particular view of the world and who gives orders in it, and given that you and Maria have barely spoken, he would instantly know that you had an ulterior motive. Remember, he hired the governess and if he wants her to help the children, his wish is everyone's command. I understand he was short with you, but I can see that unfolding considering the scene you have described. Maybe he overreached, but I think it's a bit extreme that you would feel threatened by the little Fraulein. Looking after the children is her job, and it's not an easy one. Eleven other governesses would tell you the same story!"
"Perhaps, Max," Elsa sighed exasperatedly. "But I do not approve of how close they have become!"
"They, meaning Georg and Fraulein Maria, I trust?" Max inquired. "Elsa, Elsa, Elsa...Georg used to be this way with Agathe and the children. He was involved, he participated, he planned, he fulfilled the children's wishes. I understand this is all new for you, but I saw all of this once before. You must understand that the past four years were truly the exception and not the norm!" Max replied.
"But Max, then perhaps he has to learn to understand that this is so very different for me. I don't have children, I don't do children. Period. They are grubby and wild and unpredictable. The past few years he barely spoke of the children, let alone mentioning the fact that he wanted to spend time with them. Plus, this is his nun-governess, not his wife." Elsa dropped her cigarette into the ashtray and moaned audibly as she held her head in her hands.
"Well, my dear, if you want to be a part of Georg's life you will have to get used to the children being present. You will need to learn to "do" children. I would suggest that if you want to win the man over, get involved with the children. Learn what they like, what their hobbies are, what toys they like, play games with them! It is obvious the children are a priority for him now - he is making up for four years of neglect!" Max replied calmly.
Elsa rolled her eyes and took another long drag off her cigarette before blowing smoke into the air.
"I suppose. But I am still allowed to feel hurt after the way he yelled at me and defended her." she huffed.
After finally getting the children into bed and well on their way to sleep, Maria returned to her room to freshen up and find a more comfortable pair of shoes. Maria was wound up in a way she had not experienced for some time. She was almost breathless, like her heart was beating faster than it should. Why would a game of billiards cause such a ruckus in her head and heart?
Probably because it wasn't just about a game of billiards. It was a game of billiards with the Captain.
Tonight she was to play the Captain in a game of snooker under the watchful eye of Herr Detweiller, if he did not change his mind, of course! It still seemed unfathomable that the great Captain Von Trapp would entertain himself in a game with the governess, however, it seemed to be the trajectory she was on.
Regardless of the meaning of it all, Maria knew that the last thing she needed was a tight pair of boots at the end of a long day.
"The Captain..." she sighed to herself.
Maria walked towards the frame of the open window and bent down and put her elbows on the sill, her chin in her hands as she looked out over the garden and the lake. The sky was a wash in a stunning cloak of red, purple, blue and indigo light. Vega, the bright star in Lyra, was already making an appearance. The heat rising from the Earth after a long day in the sun made the lone star in the sky look like it was twinkling. The crickets had begun to sing and the frogs heralded the cooler hours of the evening.
She smiled as she recalled her lesson with the Captain last night - how she could use stars to navigate. Maybe one day she would find herself on a boat on the open ocean travelling across the globe. But for now, she would just need to hang onto everything he had told her and practice when she could.
Days at the villa - like today, for example - had been some of the most lovely days of her entire life. Maria often still found herself surprised with the idea that she wasn't trapped in the Abbey and didn't need to run away to seek solace in the outdoors like she once did. Not to say the Abbey was no longer a place of comfort for her, but to be able to come and go as she liked brought Maria great joy. The sun on her face, the wind in her hair. Music, singing, dancing. Games with the children. It was the best of times and the freedom to just be made her heart soar in ways she had not thought possible.
She felt guilty some days, because wasn't the Abbey supposed to be her source of spiritual inspiration? Nevertheless, she laughed, all of these things were God's finest creations and she could thank Him best simply by enjoying them. The day that the Reverend Mother sent her here, Maria could not imagine how she could ever be happy, but she was! She was the happiest she had ever been. Times with the children - and their father, of late - were more meaningful than most days of her wicked childhood and early adult lives combined.
The Reverend Mother knew something, that much was for certain. What would become of Maria's experiences, her love of the outdoors, the love of and friendship of the children, and the need for quiet and solitude when she returned to the Abbey? After a day like today, Maria wasn't sure it was possible to go back. But if she didn't, what would she do instead? Would she be forsaking God by not serving Him?
Bright sunshine, rain on her face, the joyful exuberance of those seven children she loved as her own. These simple experiences created by God for all to enjoy brought her such comfort. Not to mention her own room with new curtains, a comfy bed, and a long soak in the bath after a morning of riding with the Captain and the three eldest children. Today had been a perfect day, well, after the fire was put out at the breakfast table, that is for certain.
The image of the Baroness' face as the Captain let into her was still burned into her brain all these hours later. She was completely shocked as she sat at the table, and it took some time to process the reality of her situation in those moments. Was the Captain really fighting for her? No one had ever stuck up for Maria like that before.
Oh! But Maria felt so terribly guilty! and still did...
"The Captain is thinking very seriously of marrying the woman before the summer is over..." the words of Frau Schmidt took up more space in her memory than Maria would like to admit. Maria had no experience with romantic love, but the more she learned about the Captain and the Baroness, the less she could understand the foundations for their relationship. Not to mention the fact that the Baroness was most certainly not new mother material. However, how could a man who was clearly marked as 'almost marrying' by his most trusted staff member defend a governess to his betrothed? It was all so very confusing.
"The Captain..." she sighed to herself. Again.
The man who infuriated her in those early days, even when he was far away in Vienna. The man who captivated her during his absence as she tried to learn as much as she could about him through his words and old photographs. The same man who incensed her the day he returned with the Baroness and had treated his children so poorly. She soon regretted the dressing-down she gave him on the landing, because she has quickly found herself out of a job and on her way back to the Abbey.
But then the music happened. Something in the song she had taught the children melted the ice that had settled over his heart. That same music that lead to an apology; he asked her to stay. Since that day, so much had happened - she now felt like she was part of the Von Trapp family, not merely a failed novice who had come for the summer to care for the children.
If she had a pen and paper right now, Maria could map out the many moments she and the Captain had shared where the Earth seemed to shift dramatically under her feet. Each moment was, of course, poignant enough to notice at the time, but like a row of lead soldiers on a battlefield, the more she had lined up in her defenses, the clearer the image on the battlefield became. The only problem was that she didn't understand the image she was seeing. What did it mean? It only caused confusion, but also awakened feelings in her that she could not place or categorize.
Since the afternoon he had returned from Vienna, Maria and the Captain had assumed new roles in the household. Certainly, she was the governess to his seven children, but he no longer treated her like a subordinate. She felt as though she was his equal in many ways, as silly as that seemed. For his part, the Captain was again a doting father who looked to Maria for support and often approval. Even she, despite being so far out of his upper class world, Maria could tell he relied on her. In those early days, it was clear that his confidence came from her. He let Maria comfort him, encourage him, support him; and she understood that she had been responsible for narrowing the gulf that had formed between him and the children in the years following the death of their mother.
Over the past few days, however, Maria had noticed things had changed between them again, although she couldn't put her finger on how. Of course, things shifted substantially while they were away in Innsbruck, but this was different. Innsbruck was about facing her ghosts and realizing the Captain had cared enough about her past to understand how it mattered in her present.
For a time after they had returned, it seemed as far as Maria was concerned, the Captain was set on putting distance between them once more - appropriate distance, of course. It wasn't normal for a governess to be this close to the Master, surely? But as quickly as the chill began, it had ended with the exchange of music; the moments that they had shared that night when she had found him at the piano opened doors between them once more.
But, no, it was different even now, although she struggled to put her finger on it. He seemed to look at her through new eyes; the way he regarded her, paused to listen to her answer when he asked a question. How he would manage to track her and the children down all over the grounds; how she would catch him gazing at her when she wasn't looking, only to busy himself with embarrassment when he got caught.
What was going on inside of that handsome head of his? Maria wondered. Or was she imagining it all?
If she was honest with herself, however, Maria supposed she had changed too. Maria loved his company and intelligent conversation and she enjoyed living with the knowledge that she mattered and because he appeared to be captivated by her, regardless of his reasons and the appropriateness of it all.
It had to be gratitude, surely?
Maria loved how involved he was with the children now. He often appeared at bedtime to help with story time, and he would take the quiet moments of the evening to talk to the older children and renew the connection they once had shared.
It had to be that - how he had transformed from the staunch martinet to the loving father once more? A transition she had helped facilitate. She revelled in how important her influence had been.
And yet, the other night, lying on the dock under the stars, the heat from the Captain's body as he lay alongside her continued to haunt her. Those feelings were definitely not about the children, and they were not about his transformation. There was a connection there that didn't exist a week ago. There was this depth to their conversation, a level of trust and being in their shared silence.
For some reason, Maria had felt comfortable enough to overstep - again - and pushed him to talk about uncomfortable topics. What was it like to leave the Navy? She had assumed a rebuke the moment the words left her mouth, but none came. Instead, the Captain spoke candidly about his transition from the Navy to civilian life, stressing how it was possible - although challenging - for new dreams to find you. Although he was speaking about his own experience, Maria was certain that he intended the message for her.
Why would he do that, though? Encourage her to do something different? Did he realize that the Abbey wasn't the place for someone like her? Of course, it was obvious to everyone, and yet Maria fought it with all her might. Had she set her mind to being a nun and lost track of God's plan for her.
"Oh, Maria!" She chastised herself. "Stop making something out of nothing. You've got a billiards game to win!"
Maria turned away from the window and made her way to the bedroom door.
...The same door that Frau Schmidt had stood at and explained her thoughts about the Captain's future.
...The same threshold that the children had willingly crossed over during the storm; the night they had left their insecurities and hostilities behind and welcomed her with open arms.
...The same door that the Captain - so mysterious and handsome in his burgundy smoking jacket - had stormed through like the raging weather outdoors.
She had witnessed so many colours of Captain Von Trapp since her first day in the villa:
Martinet.
Soldier.
A man moved by music; a man who made music.
Those basic images of the Captain had been painted with the most beautiful water colours of emotion: anger, determination, sadness, regret, affection, and kindness.
And now this, whatever it was.
This morning at the breakfast table, it became clear to Maria that this was not a figment of her imagination. Over the past few days she felt it more than saw it, but today it was different somehow. What started as a rowdy breakfast with the older children with the younger ones rising a little later on their own dressed and with their faces washed, led to an entire day of contentment. He sat proudly at the dining room table with his whole brood, a slough of emotions across his face. He was content, that much was certain. His renewed relationship with the children was a balm to all the uncertainty in Austria at the moment. He was excited as the children with the prospect of taking them riding, an activity they had not participated in together since before the late Baroness had passed.
Like that mad summer storm, however, his mood quickly changed when the Baroness (who had risen far earlier than at any time in her stay) arrived in the dining room with a handful of dresses meant for Maria to mend and alter. She quickly began to lecture Maria about their earlier agreement - her frustration with the scene she had encountered was obvious. What Maria did not expect was for the Captain to jump to her defense the way he had. He had pushed back against the Baroness' concern for the appropriateness of riding horses with the governess and the children, turning her attention to Maria to remind her of their agreement.
The Captain's temper had flared with the volatility of gasoline thrown onto a fire. She had not seen this part of him since the day she told him off on the landing. The Captain knew from their conversation last night that the Baroness had other plans for Maria. Had she made the right choice to tell him about what the Baroness had asked of her? Well, of course, he would have found out anyway. Nonetheless, Maria was overcome with a wave of guilt as she watched the Baroness wilt before her eyes. Maria didn't think the Baroness was capable of humiliation, but the Captain had dealt the blow that definitely took the wind out of her sails.
The Baroness, resigned and humiliated in front of her potential step-children, dropped her dresses in Max's empty chair and tossed herself down and avoided eye contact with the Captain. Franz appeared out of nowhere, a carafe of coffee and a cup and saucer, placing them in front of her place setting before shuffling out of the dining room. Maria felt the glare of the Baroness burning through her soul as she periodically looked up from her magazine.
The children on their part were excited about riding and quickly moved on from the conflict between the adults, smiling widely at Maria. The Captain quickly transitioned back into the man who had been sitting happily at the table only moments before.
Riding together had been a joy. All of the children had rode before their mother had died, so there was more focus on details and less about the basics. The Captain was in his element -he had finally come full circle and had returned as the doting Father. However, this time it was clear he possessed new determination - he knew how lucky he was to have been given a second chance. He had laughed until he cried this morning teaching the children to ride.
Once they had everything ready in the stables and had headed for the field to ride, the Captain was once again form. Laughing and soaking up the moment with his children. All thoughts of the morning's tension had evaporated and the five of them had the such a lovely morning. The rapport he had with Friedrich, working hard to be the model father his son so dearly needed. The way he connected with the often sullen Louisa, pulling her out of her hesitance and teaching her to jump. How the Captain had studied the way the wind blew the stray hairs about Liesl's face; when Maria witnessed the very moment when he seemed to acknowledged that his daughter was growing into a woman, one who looked so much like her mother, she could not help but fight back her tears.
They had worked together to help the children, and the Captain often stood close by her as they watched the children ride independently. His proximity was constant, on many occasions she made to turn away from the horse only to find herself enclosed in his arms as he reached over her to adjust the reins or the saddle. And there was that constant feeling of it - how he regarded her closely, almost studying her so he could contemplate his observations later on. He complimented her often, he joked freely, and made a point of bumping into her shoulder with the broad part of his arm whenever he was proud of the way the children had rode.
The Captain had looked so handsome in a linen collared shirt, riding pants, and tall brown riding boots. Of course, Maria scolded herself for noticing these things, however, she had been close enough to him throughout the morning to realize that he smelled like a beautiful combination of sunshine, leather, and sandalwood. The scent made her dizzy and the constant thrumming of her heart made her feel like a school girl.
Shaking her head back to the present, Maria circled back to her closet and threw open the door.
There! The most beautiful thing she had ever owned, and she was so proud that she had made it with her own hands.
She had used the afternoon to hide away in laundry room, for she didn't dare want to be caught by the Baroness; the sewing machine whirred and pins and scraps flew as she put her dress together. The fabric was a joy to work with, and the design came together effortlessly.
And when she tried it on before completing the final alterations and hand-work on the bodice, Maria felt like she was wearing the ocean: A gift from a Sea Captain for bravery, no less. Cerulean, flowing, soft as butter.
Sister Berthe would pull her across the Abbey by her left ear lobe if she had seen Maria regarding herself in the mirror that afternoon. Vanity was not something Maria had experienced willingly, but oh my, she certainly could not get enough of her creation and how it fit her. She had once thought that her opera dress was the most beautiful thing she had owned, and it was indeed lovely, but there was something about this. It had more meaning, more depth of emotion because she had designed it herself. She had cut the pattern out on the Captain's billiard table. He had helped her clean up her mess. This was more than a dress: it was symbolic of her relationship with the Captain.
And whatever this was.
Maria checked her pocket watch in her writing table drawer and realized she had better get a move on before it was too late. Closing her bedroom door behind her, she descended the stairs into the foyer. Calming her breath as she reached the landing, she could hear the Captain and Herr Detweiller laughing in the drawing room. He had a great laugh and Maria's day was always made when he would smile. His dimples were surely the Lord's great work and a true reward at the end of the day.
Thankfully the Baroness, who evidently still had a chip on her shoulder at dinner time, had turned in right after dessert was served complaining of a headache. Maria wasn't sure if she could handle an interaction with her again today. The Captain's defense of her had been noble, but his actions certainly did not help Maria to get into the Baroness' good graces.
Almost on cue, as if he had known she was close by, Maria could hear the Captain's voice getting louder closer as he carried on his conversation with Max. As he entered the foyer followed by his friend, he looked up and they immediately locked eyes.
"So, Fraulein. Have my children finally given up?" Georg asked.
"Aye, Captain. They have." Maria laughed with a salute. "The littlest ones are always the most tired and equally stubborn. I trust they inherited that trait from you and not their mother?"
Weeks ago, such a comment would most certainly have set him off like a powder keg, but now he just laughed. Maria understood that those little memories now brought him joy.
But, ah, those dimples...
Max, of course, was trailing along and was rubbing the palms of his hands together as if he was trying to warm them.
"Ah, my dear. It looks like the billiards game of the decade is about to start!" Max said with a laugh.
The Captain, on his part, smiled a smug smile. His lips were pursed tightly, but he was unable to contain his glee. He winked at Maria before continuing.
"Unless you're afraid, Fraulein!" Georg snorted.
"Hardly, Captain!" Maria replied. "I dont want to sound threatening, but perhaps it is you who should be afraid? You've already told me that I often surprise you with my skill sets!"
Max could not let that one walk away unnoticed.
"Georg, do tell. You've tested the Fraulein's skill sets, is that right?" He said with a wink.
Maria, who had not just fallen off the turnip truck crossed her arms and stomped her feet in his direction.
Max looked between Maria and the Captain, a sheepish grin on his face. Clearing his throat, he declared the competition officially underway before heading down the hall towards the billiards room.
Georg, ever the gentleman raised his arm in the direction of his friend, imploring Maria to follow as she skipped down the final set of stairs.
"After you, Fraulein Poolhai!"
Maria's resolve began to crack as she entered the billiards room. Max was scurrying around the table and began to set up the game.
"So, Georg," Max looked up from the table where he had placed the triangle. "What are we playing tonight? 8-ball? Sixty-One? Will there be betting, specific terms, or rules of engagement? Oh, how I love betting. Actually, it's the money that is associated with betting that I love the most!"
Georg for his part simply shrugged, looking towards Maria for any signs of preference.
"Captain, it's your table, you should name the game. Perhaps, length of game may factor in your choice. We don't want to keep you up past your bedtime!" Maria laughed.
"Ah, but Fraulien, would it be fair for me to name the game that surely sinks my governess?" Georg replied with a laugh.
Max pulled all 15 balls into the triangle waiting for direction. "Georg, I would not encourage her, she has a mean shot and will show no mercy. I know this first-hand" Max chuckled.
"Captain," Maria said with a smug smile. "Wasn't it you who just yesterday had told me you were unbeatable at Sixty-One? If that is the case, I would like to play that."
"Fraulein," Georg replied. "Max told me that you only just learned Sixty-One, so I don't think that would be fair. We should at least start on even terms. Let's play straight pool, first to 61 points, and we will leave the red-yellow for another day."
"Ah, so Georg, what you're saying is that you would prefer to play a game where you and the little Fraulein have to sink some balls in the pockets instead of merely chasing each other around the table", Max laughed hysterically as he doubled over.
Maria saw the tips of the Captain's ears turn red, but he was so skilled at hiding his true feelings. Looking at his face, one could have imagined that Max had issued some warning about an oncoming ship in the Great War. His Captain's mask was an interesting feature; one that made those moments where he allowed himself to just feel all the more poignant.
"More or less, yes," Georg replied sternly.
"Captain, a cue is a cue is a cue no matter the game; angles remain angles. The thrill of the hunt, the flash of the break, the poof of chalk as we sharpen our cues...the strikes...the game is the game, so don't back down on my account." Maria flashed him a devilish grin.
Georg cleared his throat before speaking. "As your Captain, I call straight 15-ball, balls in sequence after the break, destination to be called. Does that work for you, Fraulein?"
He fixed Maria with a stare that mare her insides melt. All she could do in response was to mutely nod.
"Alright, then, our Fraulein has agreed to terms," Georg replied with a wink, "Rack 'em up, Max!"
Max was in his element. He gleefully twirled the ends of his moustache. He so enjoyed the lively "debates" his friend and the lovely governess engaged in, the banter was so ... electric, so positively stimulating.
"Well, now that we have consensus on the rules of the game, who is going to break?" Max inquired.
Georg looked at Maria. He wanted to say something smart, but kept his words to himself. He knew better not to underestimate her, but he also wanted to win. All of his bragging kind of made it a necessity, but he also wanted to push her in ways he had not been able to push her before. Whydid he want to push her? There was just something about the intensity of her focus, the way her eyes would flash. She was so passionate about everything she did, but when she was fired up, it was another thing entirely.
"Rock, paper, scissors, Fraulein?" Georg smirked.
Maria took a deep breath and nodded. "After three..."
They put their fists together and shook them up and down three times.
Georg: scissors.
Maria: scissors.
Max laughed heartily.
They tried again; one, two, three...
Georg: paper.
Maria: paper.
They both huffed exasperatedly. Max laughed even harder. Surely a third round would not produce a tie.
And again; one, two, three...
Georg: scissors
Maria: scissors.
Maria was incensed but when she looked into the Captain's eyes, she felt this feeling of warmth envelop her whole body. They way he was looking at her just now.
"Well, I am dashed," Max exclaimed. "We are going to be here all night! Both of you, pick a number between 1 and 10"
Georg and Maria both replied at the same time: "SEVEN!"
"Oh for pity sakes. Fraulein Maria, you go first and show this Captain what you're made of!" Max chortled. He deftly placed the balls onto their spots in the triangle on the table and the dropped the cue ball onto the dot and handed Maria her favourite cue after dusting the tip with chalk.
Georg stepped back and made his way to the rack of cues to make his selection and Maria took her place at the table. He didn't like that Max knew what cue she preferred, and he doubly didn't like that she let Max chalk the cue without even asking her.
Maria closed in on the table and she side-eyed the men in the room and was hit with a wave of nervousness. Why on Earth was she nervous? Thank goodness the Baroness had retired at dinner!
She could do this...she had done it many times before!
Maria rolled her shoulders to shrug the tension off, ran her knuckles along the folds of her dirndl, and dropped the cue between her first and second fingers. Dropping her head behind the cue, Maria executed her break shot with a sharp stroke which had maximum impact. She clipped the side of the #1 ball with her shot, and all the balls scattered in all directions, with the #9 ball rolling into the right-side pocket. Maria could not help but smile inwardly at the glance that Max and the Captain shared at that moment.
Maria stood tall and made her way around the table, sucking in her middle as she shimmied past the Captain and Max who were planted along the wall.
"Ball #1 in the left-corner pocket", she proclaimed.
The cue hit the cue ball firmly into the #1, sending it spinning into its target pocket. The cue ball came to rest in an awkward position, making the #2 sink very tricky. She would need to clip the very edge of the ball to move it vertically.
Why had she not planned the follow-up shot better?
"Well, Captain, this one is tough...but #2 in the left side pocket." Maria placed her tongue between her teeth, lined up her shot, and while she made contact with the #2, it banked off the inside corner and rolled back out onto the table.
Maria slouched away from the table, but Max quickly came along side her and gave her a look of encouragement.
"You're already up on him, Fraulein, it's all good!" he said with a whisper.
Oh, how Maria wished she shared Herr Detweiller's confidence!
"Ah, tsk, tsk, tsk!" the Captain laughed. "Now that was an unfortunate turn of events, Fraulein".
The Captain passed close behind Maria on his way to line up his shot. He stuck out his elbow as he walked by, giving her a little nudge along with a impish look that included a wag of his eyebrows. He got down into position and lined up the shot. It was considerably easier now that Maria had left it open.
"Number 2, left side pocket". And with that he took his shot. The room was quiet except for the snap of the cue against the cue ball which cracked into the #2 and then the thud as it hit the #2 ball into the pocket. He stood straight and dusted some imaginary fluff off his jacket collar, smiling smugly at Maria and Max. He moved around the table to take his next aim.
"Number 3, right corner pocket".
Crack. Thud. Roll. Plop.
He knocked off a series of shots: the #4, #5 and then #6 -until he finally came upon one that didn't line up quite as nice. It required a double-bank if it was going to work out.
"Ooooh, too bad, old man!" Max cooed.
The Captain for his part had missed #7 in the centre right pocket despite the decent angles on a two-bumper shot. However, he had rung up a decent lead already 20-10. Maria knew from her days in Vienna that a good player could clear the table if they had the chance. Getting an opportunity to play again and get back in this game was a fortunate break for her.
"Number 7, left centre pocket", Maria called out with more confidence than she felt.
Crack. Thud. Roll. Plop.
She was back in this.
Eight.
Crack. Thud. Roll. Plop.
Ten.
"Georg. I think this one has your number".
Eleven. Twelve. Thirteen. All a success!
Seventy-one points, and the game was hers!
Georg was mute for a moment, it was hard to put what he was feeling into words. She was a marvel, this one. How someone with a shot like that could ever be a nun. Well, there were so many Maria-isms that just didn't make sense in a convent.
"I am certainly most impressed, Fraulein. How about a best 2 out of 3? That didn't take very long at all, and bedtime is still aways off." Georg snickered.
"Nothing like a sea captain to change the rules mid-battle!" Max laughed.
"What? Fraulein Maria beat me fair and square. But that didn't take very long. We shall give it another go. Or maybe it will be Sixty One later - all bank, no pocket, hmm Fraulein?"
He set the cue down in the floor and lodged the end between his toes before he shrugged out of his jacket. He walked over to the cue rack and hung it over one if the unused sticks. He loosened his tie and undid the top button of his shirt.
Maria's mouth went dry, her mind catapulting back to that day in Innsbruck. She no longer saw a billiards table, she saw a sudsy captain showering en plein air.
"Loser breaks, and I guess that is me!" he said with a chuckle that made the hairs on the back of ber neck stand up.
XXXXXOOXXXXX
The Captain took the next game, running the table without fail from his first shot.
While he was gloating, Max came alongside mid game and whispered to Maria.
"You can do this, too, Fraulein. Wipe the table with the old Captain after you break. Please do it for old Maxy. It would make such a great tale - the storied Captain out-balled by the Nun".
Max reset the balls and handed Maria her chalk. Georg sat on the edge of a stool beside the side table where he grabbed a bottle of whiskey, pouring himself and Max a drop while Maria had her way with the table, polishing the end of her cue as she went.
With a force rivalling that of gravity, Maria sank the #6 and the #12 off her break shot and proceeded to bank bumpers, caroms, and direct slices, wiping the table clean in a matter of moments.
Georg started to laugh. It was a deep chuckle that started deep in his belly and eventually got louder and more jolly. It was a self-satisfied laugh which was nonetheless infectious and soon the three were rolling with laughter.
"Those last two games were rather devoid of competition since neither one of us let the other play. I must say, I underestimated you, again, Fraulein. Well done!" - and he rose to extend his hand to shake hers as one would finish any friendly sporting contest. He held on a little longer than propriety allowed, giving into the moment where those blue eyes of her drowned him slowly. The sound of Max clearing his throat startled them both, and they released each other's hand.
"Well, I would say tonight's festivities have left me a little thirsty. Shall we retreat to the drawing room for a drink?" Max asked with a laugh.
"Max, the extent of your activity was putting balls in formation, jeering the competitors, and chalking Fraulein Maria's cue, how can you possibly be thirsty?" Georg replied.
"Exactly - it's enough to make any man thirsty," Max called out after the Captain. "Let's go. Fraulein Maria can tell me all about how things are coming along with the puppet show!"
A/N: I think the joys/trials/tribulations of billiards is that there are so many games with many variations - and they often use the same name to represent slightly different versions, depending on where you live. The one played out in this story is the one I remember from my teenage days - numbered solids and stripes and a race to 51% of the total points available. We used to call this 'straight ball', but I acknowledge the many possible variations on the game with this name. The Sixty-One referenced in the story (or "English Billiards") refers to the game where play uses only three balls - the red, yellow, and white cue ball. I suspect the Captain became proficient in English billiards after he married into the Whitehead family - or perhaps before, as he tried to win them over.