Chapter Fifteen Maria

Chapter Fifteen

Maria

Salzburg, Austria

1927

I can't breathe. Frau Rafaela ushers me into the abbey and I walk through the grounds without actually seeing them. The broken statue of the Blessed Mother may or may not have been replaced, and there may or may not be new paving stones where the old ones had been cracked and chipped. But I can feel the eyes of the sisters watching us as we pass through the open galleries.

A year ago, everything made sense. But now I can't untangle my growing sense of panic from my feelings for the Captain. We climb the flight of stairs to the Reverend Mother's rooms and Frau Rafaela knocks. Then I hear a comforting voice call out to us from the other side. The room looks the same as it did eight months ago. Even the blanket on the back of the Reverend Mother's chair is folded in exactly the same way.

I don't even wait for Frau Rafaela to leave before blurting out the story. By the time I'm finished, a crowd has gathered outside the Reverend Mother's door.

I stare at the Reverend Mother through a veil of tears, and inside, I feel as if everything is breaking. Yet her face remains calm.

"Ah, Maria. This is certainly a turn of events I didn't foresee." She smiles, and the panic rises inside of me.

"But I've given my word to God. Surely He has plans for me here."

The Reverend Mother leaves her chair and comes to stand in front of me. "Is it possible that God brought you to our abbey because He knew it would eventually lead you to the Baron and his children?"

I look up through my tears. Is it true? Was that God's will all along? "But what about the children here? And the abbey?"

"Well, it seems to me you have a choice to make. A new family with children who need a mother or your family here. In both cases, my dear, you will still be serving God. He doesn't disappear outside the walls of this convent."

I look around. Who is going to give me the answer? Where will it come from?

The Reverend Mother puts her hand on my shoulder. "I think you know what you've been called to do. Go, and have a beautiful life. We will always be here."

I begin to tremble. "But not as my family."

"We will always be your family, Maria."

The terror squeezing my chest feels tighter. And suddenly I'm reminded of a time when I was young and just as scared. I had begged my father to let me stay the night with him, and his voice had the same mix of certainty and regret as the Reverend Mother's. Gusti, my apartment's not fit for a little girl.

I stand, but my knees feel weak.

"Congratulations," one of the sisters says. And then everyone is saying it as the Reverend Mother leads me back toward the gates.

"Maria, are you happy?" she asks.

I stand on the threshold of the convent. "I'm frightened."

The Reverend Mother's eyes crinkle with kindness. "We're all frightened of change. Just tell me this. Can you love him?"

I think of how patient he's been—all the ways he's tried to ask me, again and again, if I would be his—and my heart begins to swell. I nod.

"Then I give you my blessing."

Frau Rafaela's eyes are filled with tears and so are mine. "You will make the most beautiful bride in Salzburg," she promises.

"But what if I can't do this?" I ask. "I don't know how to be a mother. Or a wife."

"It will be simple." The Reverend Mother reaches out and squeezes my hand. "Just follow God's lead."

But I'm confused by God. Why has He done this? Why has He taken my devotion to Him and given it away?

I hesitate at the gates, panicked to take a step beyond the abbey. But the Reverend Mother nods encouragingly, and all of the sisters who've crowded around her watch me with anticipation. Why are their faces so full of excitement? Didn't they want me here? I give a little wave and my throat tightens. Then I force myself to turn my back on them and take my first step away from the abbey and into my new life.

It's nearly evening by the time I'm on the bus, and I weep all the way back to the villa and the children. My children. Seven of them. They will be mine now to shelter and protect. Mine to raise. And any bad behavior or annoying habits will be mine to correct.

The entire family is assembled on the steps of the villa, enjoying the evening air. I can see the children playing tag while the Captain is sitting on the first step, nervously smoking his pipe. He rises the moment he sees me. Then silence falls across the entire courtyard, and I begin to cry in earnest.

"What happened?" He holds out a hand toward me.

"The Reverend Mother said yes."

Suddenly, the Captain pulls me toward him and wraps me in his arms. No man has ever done this, not even my father. I stiffen, and he immediately seems to realize my discomfort. He pulls back and gently caresses my arm. "Maria," he says, and there is so much love, so much desire in that one word, that I reach out to him and take his hand.

—

The news of our engagement spreads faster than you could imagine possible. The entire household knows by dinnertime, and by dessert even the gardeners are coming in to congratulate me. When the children go upstairs for the evening, the Captain finds me in the library, cradling a mug of tea.

"Are you happy?" He sits on the chair across from me, so close that our knees are almost touching.

I look down into my steaming mug rather than into his eyes. "I thought the Reverend Mother would fight for me." My chin begins to tremble, and he places a steadying hand on my knee.

"Is it possible that's what she's doing?"

I glance up.

"Rupert wishes to become a doctor," he begins. "In a year, we'll say goodbye to him and he'll be off on his studies. And we'll say those goodbyes because we love him."

I put down the tea. "Why are you so patient with me?"

He doesn't have to reach for the answer. It just comes to him, as if he's known all along. "Because I'm in love with you, Maria."

I reach out and place my hand in his.

"But it may be a while before we can be married," he says. "There are rumors. I will leave next week for Italy and return at the end of November for our wedding."

I withdraw my hand. "In six months ?" I don't understand. "But why?"

He looks at me tenderly. "It's what has to be done."

When I reach the children's school the next morning, Johanna's teacher hurries her inside the little schoolhouse, as if she doesn't want her student to hold my hand for a moment longer than she absolutely must. There are people who are giving me strange looks in the courtyard, but it's Hedwig's teacher who finally remarks, "So I suppose our schoolhouse should be expecting another von Trapp."

I think of Martina back home and nod eagerly. "Oh, yes. But not for another few months."

The old woman inhales and looks down at Hedwig. "And how do you feel about your governess becoming your mother now?"

Hedwig beams widely. "I'm the luckiest girl in Salzburg!"

Her teacher stares at me, then shuts the classroom door without another word.

When I return to the villa, I tell the Baroness what's happening. She sits me down at the long dining table and wears the same patient look the Captain wore last night.

"Imagine for a moment that you're the princess, Maria, and the wedding that you've been anticipating for several years is called off. Instead, the Baron suddenly plans to marry his governess. It's very embarrassing. And all of Salzburg is bound to find out. So what might you go on to tell all of your friends?"

I study the fancy table runner, with its blue and gold thread, trying to think about anything but this. "That I stole him away?"

The Baroness presses her lips together. "Yes." She sighs heavily. "How?"

My temperature rises. "I don't know. How can a woman steal a man away?"

She clasps and unclasps her hands.

"What is it? What is she accusing me of?" I exclaim.

The Baroness exhales. "I am guessing she has started a rumor that you are pregnant with his child."

I sit back against the chair and consider what she's telling me. Then I hold my stomach and laugh. "Pregnant!"

The Baroness's face remains serious.

"Well, no one could possibly believe that! We aren't married. What? Do people think we were secretly married and that our wedding will just be for show?"

She frowns. "Maria, you do understand how pregnancy works?"

My cheeks redden. "Of course. A married couple decides that they wish to have a baby."

I have never seen the Baroness's eyes so wide. "Maria, a baby can come without a couple being married."

Now I feel the color drain from my face.

"Dear God." She looks genuinely shocked. "Has no one explained this to you?"

And so I'm given a lesson on the making of babies, and when the Baroness is finished, I'm stunned into silence. "This is why the Captain is leaving," I whisper.

"Yes." The Baroness's face looks grave.

I think of what I told Hedwig's teacher and want to cry. "And the teachers—"

"Can very well mind their own business." The Baroness rises. "Anyway, it will all be clear enough in several months when it's obvious you're not with child."

"And until then?" I exclaim.

"Until then I suggest you become accustomed to some unpleasantry."

"But why would she do this?" I cry. "Why would the princess do this?"

The Baroness smiles. "Because she couldn't control you, Maria. So now she'll wage a different battle. Trying to control what others think about you."

When I go at lunch to collect the children from school, I pass the headmistress in the courtyard and she gives me a tight smile.

"I hear the Baron is leaving for Italy tomorrow."

I hope my cheeks are not on fire. "Yes, for six months," I say.

Behind her large glasses, she raises her sharp brows. "So will the wedding take place tonight?"

I stare at her. "Of course not. Why would it?"

Her eyes drift to my stomach, but I keep my gaze steady. And when I don't say anything, she makes a dismissive noise in her throat. "Well, congratulations."

I want to say something biting in return, but what will it prove? So instead I blink back tears and collect the children, who are too full of the day's news to notice that I'm upset. In the villa I sit at the long table, and while everyone else eats the belegte Brote, I imagine the princess whispering to her friends, "Well, obviously, she's pregnant with his child!" She's probably spreading the word right now, whispering about "that postulant from Nonnberg" and what a conniving girl she is.

"Fr?ulein, aren't you hungry?" Agathe asks.

I shake my head.

Under the table the Baroness pats my knee. "Don't worry about the gossips, my dear. Just imagine the bitterness of the princess's disappointment when she discovers how wrong she's been."

I know she's trying to make light of it, but when the family assembles on the porch to bid the Captain farewell, a panic seizes my chest and makes it hard to breathe. Johanna notices it first.

"Fr?ulein, are you all right?"

The Captain moves through the crowd of children and stands in front of me, taking my hands in his. "Only six months."

I press my lips together and nod silently, so that my fear won't come tumbling out. The princess has done this. Forced him to leave until enough months have passed that the world will know I'm not with child.

"I'm sorry," he says quietly, and the children press closer to me, as if they can sense how difficult these six months will be.

I take a shallow breath and gasp, "I'll miss you, Captain."

He leans forward and lightly kisses my lips, and the feeling is like nothing I've ever experienced. "You can't think of me as ‘Captain' anymore, Maria. I'm just Georg now."

I can smell the pipe tobacco on his vest and the fresh scent of soap on his skin, and when he pulls away I have to resist the urge to reach out and pull him back.

—

I have never had a reason to write many letters, but the moment Georg is gone I hurry to the wooden desk in his library and begin. The children become prolific letter writers as well, and over the next six months Georg tells us about his goings-on in Italy, while we tell him about affairs inside of Villa Trapp. In July, we hike the Untersberg and celebrate Hedwig's tenth birthday at the top. I tell him about the cake we share on the mountainside, near thick bunches of wildflowers and magnificent views of the Hoher G?ll, and he writes to me about the crowded markets of Florence, where he's managed to find Hedwig's favorite treats, jam-filled pizzicati, which he's sending in several tins.

In September we have Mitzi's birthday to celebrate, and I tell him how Werner is all but a man, going to his room to study now without having to be told. But Martina remains a challenge. She hides whenever it's time for dinner, forcing Agathe to launch a search party throughout the villa. I write to him about my suggestion of leaving Martina to her own devices, as going without dinner will surely cure her of this, but Agathe says she doesn't mind dragging Martina kicking and screaming back to the table.

Her tantrums are growing worse, and I wonder if it has to do with the new role I'll be taking on in the house. I know that the children refer to their beloved mother as Mama whenever they talk about her, so I asked Martina if there was something she'd like to call me.

"I'd prefer not to talk with you at all," she said. At six years old!

Johanna, naturally, came to the rescue, and suggested that the children call me Mother. But I wonder if Martina will ever be persuaded. It's such a terrible loss that she's experienced, and while so young.

In October there is the Feast of the Guardian Angels, and I tell Georg, whose knowledge of the church is somewhat lacking, how we laid out an extra plate at the table for each of our angels. We are so fortunate to have these guardians to watch over us, I write. And I tell him that I have taught the children the Angele Dei and have instructed them to pray it daily.

But I don't write to him of how the teachers have suddenly grown warm and affectionate. I smile at them, but I'll never forget how they treated me when they thought I was with child. Nor do I write about the strange loss I feel when the Baroness informs me that after the wedding, she should like to return to her sister in Vienna. "I miss her," she admits. "Oh, don't look so panicked. You have no need for me. Besides, you will be a Baroness then, with all the responsibility such a title conveys." But it's the responsibility I'm most fearful of—and the expectations.

However, I don't have time to fret over this. Because suddenly it's the twenty-seventh of November and the entire villa is in a state. Johanna can't find her fur-lined gloves, Hedwig's fancy patent leather shoes are missing, Werner hasn't given a thought to his hair, and Martina is once again in hiding.

I continue pinning up my hair and tell Agathe, "Ask Johanna if she's looked for her gloves in the parlor, tell Hedwig her shoes are definitely in the hall, and instruct Werner to use Rupert's brush if he must, but he's not going looking like yesterday's breakfast!"

Agathe hesitates at the door. "And Martina?"

I glance at myself in the mirror. My two thick braids are wrapped around my head, creating a halo where my veil will rest. I should probably continue pinning my hair back in case the wind is strong, but Martina…

I rise from my dressing table. "I'll find her."

I look in all her favorite places: the cupboard under the stairs, the closet in the ground-floor hall, Rupert's tidy wardrobe. Then I hear a sniffling coming from Johanna's room and I open the door. The sisters are sitting together on the bed, holding a portrait of their mother and weeping. I freeze, and immediately Johanna stuffs the picture frame under her pillow.

"You don't have to hide it," I say at once.

Johanna wipes her tears with the back of her hand. "You saw?"

I nod. "It's a portrait of your mother." I sit on the edge of the bed next to Martina. Johanna hands me the frame. I wipe away the tears that have collected on the glass and stare at the image of Agathe von Trapp. She was beautiful. Much prettier than I am, with a softer mouth and kinder eyes. What sort of bargains must she have tried to make with God before her death? And why would He take the mother of seven children?

"She was very, very beautiful," I say.

Johanna nods and reaches for my hand.

"I don't remember her at all," Martina whispers.

My heart breaks, and an idea occurs to me. "Shall we bring her portrait to the wedding?"

Both children look up at me, wide-eyed.

"I would think she'd like to be part of this day, too," I tell them.

"Yes." Martina begins to cry again and I take her in my arms, and suddenly it doesn't matter that there are a hundred things to do, or that my hair isn't finished, or that Hedwig may never find her shoes. "I'm sorry I'm always hiding," she says.

I stroke her hair. "You can hide any time you like," I tell her.

"And you won't be angry?" She looks up at me with her pretty brown eyes.

"Never," I promise. "And when you're ready, we'll always be waiting."

—

We leave the villa more than twenty minutes late, but it doesn't matter. The children are dressed in their beautiful white coats and their patent leather shoes gleam against the snow. As we pile into multiple cars and drive toward the abbey, I think of Mutti waiting there for me, and Anni, and Uncle Franz. I imagine the displeasure on my uncle's face at the thought of me becoming a Baroness, and though I deeply disagree with the idea of nobility, the idea of him apoplectic with rage does make me smile.

"Are you excited?" Hedwig asks, smoothing her skirts. The bow in her hair needs straightening, but I can hardly move in my heavy white dress. I instruct Agathe to fix it, then take a deep breath.

"A little nervous," I admit. "I've never been a wife before. Or a mother."

"You'll be wonderful at both," Agathe promises. She's only fourteen, but the seriousness with which she says this makes me think of the Baroness.

The caravan stops outside of Nonnberg, and I look up at the eighth-century abbey that was to be my home and feel a tugging in my chest. But I'm getting a new home. A different one. With children who need me.

Outside, the air is bitterly cold, and I hurry the girls through the gates into the cloisters while the boys go on into the chapel. "Would anyone like to come while the sisters put on my veil?" I ask, and all five girls follow me up the stone stairs into the Reverend Mother's chambers. Frau Rafaela is waiting for me inside, and she crushes me in her embrace. I don't want to cry. I've told myself I won't. But when the sisters arrive and excitedly begin pinning my veil into place I can't help it.

Agathe passes me a tissue and Mitzi asks quietly, "Are you sad?"

"Oh, no. It's just—it's a very big moment," I gasp.

When Frau Rafaela hands me a mirror I stare at myself in the glass.

I'm beautiful. It's the first time in my life that I've ever thought of myself this way, but with the white veil falling over my hair and a crown of flowers framing my face, it feels as if I'm staring at someone else. The girl in the mirror looks like someone whose parents loved her dearly and gave her the best of everything that money could buy. Her father probably bought her a pony for her birthday, and her mother was certainly the kind who had fussed over her hair each morning. She went to a fancy school, then on to the university to study poetry. And now she's marrying a Baron.

"Are you ready?" Frau Rafaela asks.

I take a deep breath and the girl in the mirror becomes me again, masquerading as the future Baroness von Trapp. I hand back the mirror and nod. "Yes."

We walk in the solemn procession toward the chapel, where Martina stops at the entrance and gasps. "Look at all the flowers!"

"And the people," Agathe says.

Frau Rafaela motions for the children to go on, but I'm to be kept out of sight until the music begins to play. The room is bursting with faces I've never seen before. The women have come dressed in their best jewelry and furs, and their perfume hangs heavy in the air. Next to them, groups of men with expensive cuff links and silk lapels stand laughing with one another, turning the quiet chapel into an echo chamber. I search the faces for someone I know, and just as I begin to panic that no one in my family has remembered my wedding, I see them. Mutti and Anni, surrounded at the front of the chapel by all the women who were to become my beloved sisters at Nonnberg. It's with deep relief that I note that there is no sign of Uncle Franz, who must have decided to stay home for this occasion.

My new children make their way to the first pew, and I watch from the back of the chapel as Martina props up the photo of her mother in the empty space beside her. I think of Frau Agathe watching me from the confines of her frame, frozen in time, and my chest aches. Would she be proud of the way I'm caring for her children? Or would she worry that Martina doesn't eat, that Hedwig weeps in her bed late at night, and that Werner doesn't care as much for people as he does for animals? I begin to lose myself in these worries when the music starts and the guests begin rushing to find their seats.

A few more minutes pass, then Frau Rafaela gives my arm a little squeeze and beams up into my face. "It's time."

From the front of the chapel Georg turns to see me enter, and the intensity in his eyes is the same intensity he has that evening as the door to my new room clicks shut behind me.

—

"There's nothing I expect from you tonight," he says, but the desire in his eyes is unmistakable.

I place my hand on his chest and can feel his heart racing. "I want this," I tell him.

"Yes, but we can simply—"

I stop his words with a kiss, knowing that I can pull away at any time and he will honor my wishes. The Baroness has prepared me for what comes next, so there's no shock when he reaches for the buttons of my gown. He unfastens the top one, studies my reaction, then unfastens a second button and looks down at me again.

"I'm not going to run away." I laugh. His fingers begin moving quickly after this, making fast work of my gown as I strip off his shirt.

The experience of him as my husband is like nothing I could have prepared for. I put my head on his chest while he catches his breath and strokes the back of my neck.

"Just think of our honeymoon," he says breathlessly.

I pull away. "What do you mean?"

Georg frowns. "Well, our honeymoon—"

"We can't leave the children."

"But surely—"

I tug the covers up to my chest and hold them under my arms. "Did you know that Hedwig cries in her sleep? And that Martina isn't eating? We can't just leave them. Just go off—"

"All right," he says, but I don't hear him.

"And what if something happens to Mitzi?" I continue. "Sometimes at night I still hear her cough. And if Werner gets hurt with that carving knife of his? Something could happen to any of them if we leave."

"It's all right, Maria. No one is going anywhere."

But my eyes are filled with tears.

"And no one is leaving you either," he promises. He pulls me into the crook of his arm, where I lay my head on his shoulder and cry. "I promise," he repeats, "no more leaving."