Chapter Text
The very first Spoonerville theater was about to open its doors next month, and Peg couldn't have been more excited. When she learned that The Sound of Music would be performed in her small town, she immediately began dropping hints to Pete about buying tickets. But knowing her self-centered, self-involved, self-loving husband, she was sure he'd be too dense to pick up on her subtle nudges, both verbal and written.
Instead of dropping hints, she decided to drop the subtlety altogether.
"Oh, sweetie," she cooed lovingly as she walked into the living room.
Pete was in his usual spot on the couch, yelling at the TV. "Not now, Sugar Plum," he mumbled, his gaze glued to the screen. "Your sweetie's team is about to score."
Peg turned off the TV and flung herself onto Pete, wrapping her arms around his neck.
"But… but…" Pete tried to untangle her arms and push her away, but Peg clung to him.
"Petey, remember those play tickets I've been talking about?"
Pete stretched unsuccessfully for the remote control on the table. "What play tickets?"
"Why, The Sound of Music, Muffin-pie! It opens on the fifth of next month, and we need to get the best seats in the house."
"But, Peg-ems, we've already watched it more than a dozen times."
"We've watched it on TV," Peg countered. "They say it's a whole new experience on stage. Besides, you taped your football game over it, remember?"
Pete finally managed to push her away and snatch the remote. He turned on the TV, his eyes literally plastered to the screen. Peg promptly snatched the remote back and turned the TV off again.
Pete turned to her, trying to reason. "But, Peg, we don't want to be cooped up in a crowded place watching a bunch of amateurs and talentless kids burst into song every now and then."
Peg laughed. "Oh, sweetie, I WANT TO!" She gave him her best Do-What-I-Say-Or-Else glare. "I expect those tickets on my nightstand first thing tomorrow morning, or it'll be you against my TONGUE. Understood?"
Pete grinned nervously. "Yes, Sweet-ems."
~*~*~*~
A faint light filtered through the bedroom window and fell on Peg's face. She rubbed her eyes awake and turned her head toward the nightstand. The tickets were there. A bright smile spread across her face. Pete had finally come through.
She sat up and picked up the tickets, hugging them close to her chest. She puckered her lips and brought the tickets toward them for a sticky kiss.
Hold it right there!
Her eyes went wide with rage when she realized the tickets she was holding were not theater tickets. They were cinema tickets to the movie Mamma Mia.
"PETE!"
"Oh, hello, Sugar Cubs." Pete walked into the bedroom in an apron, holding a tray decorated with flowers. "Here is your breakfast served in bed like a princess."
Peg waved the tickets in frustration. "What are these?"
"Tickets, your majesty."
Peg rolled her eyes and folded her arms across her chest. "What happened to The Sound of Music tickets?"
"You wanted to see a musical, and this is a musical. Plus, it's way cheaper."
Peg screamed at the top of her lungs, pulled on her hair, and jumped up and down on the bed. She flung the covers aside, jumped to her feet, and walked past Pete and his breakfast-in-bed tray toward the closet. She changed into her everyday clothes and stormed out of the bedroom.
"Peg-ems, where are you going?" Pete called after her.
Peg looked at him over her shoulder. "I'm leaving, and I'm not coming back until I SEE THOSE TICKETS, DO YOU HEAR ME?"
She turned around and found PJ and Pistol in the hallway staring at her in shock. She felt a pang of guilt but continued striding out of the house. This wasn't just about the tickets. This was about all the times she'd asked Pete to do something for her and he'd let her down. Every. Single. Time. He only thought of himself. He was a selfish, arrogant…
"Peg, look out!" Goofy called from his front yard.
All Peg saw was a flying hammer that went straight for her head.
~*~*~*~
Peg hastily pushed herself back up and looked around in embarrassment. Fortunately, no one was around to witness her latest moment of shame. She glared at the skateboard she'd tripped over and wondered how a toy belonging to an aristocratic baron's kid would be lying around in the front yard. She dusted off her old-fashioned clothes and her leather hat, which looked pretty much like a fireman's helmet. Putting her helmet back on, she sincerely hoped the Baron wouldn't mistake her for a beggar.
She grabbed her suitcase and guitar case and took a minute to admire the Pete household. It wasn't a mansion, but it was big and lovely. "You can't stand here forever," she told herself. Reverend Mother Abbess had told her that the Baron was a widower and his children needed a governess. And the perfect governess she was going to be to those poor motherless children.
She rang the bell and waited. The door opened with a little creak, revealing a tall, good-looking man dressed in a gray Austrian costume.
"I'm the new teacher," Peg said. "Are you Baron Von Pete?"
"Ah-yuck, guessed wrong! I'm Hans Goof, the butler."
"How do you do, Hans?" Peg stretched out her hand to greet him. Her life was almost shaken out of her body by his overenthusiastic handshaking.
Hans Goof took her suitcase and guitar case and ushered her inside. Peg looked around at the cozy house and immediately felt at home. She tilted her head and blinked at the largest TV she'd ever seen in her life, hanging from the wall.
Suddenly, she heard lazy footsteps behind her and a smug voice saying, "I see you're admiring my TV."
There he was – the Baron!
A large, fat man in a purple robe and the cockiest smile she'd ever seen. "I'm glad you've come, Fraulein…"
"Peg," she filled in, extending a hand.
Baron Pete ignored her hand and walked toward the big screen. "Yes, biggest TV on the market. Best used-car salesman ought to have one of these."
Peg blinked. Wasn't he supposed to be a submarine captain? She grimaced, planted her hands on her hips, and tapped her foot on the floor as she listened to Baron Pete drone on and on about his giant TV.
Eventually, Peg cleared her throat.
Baron Pete raised an eyebrow at her, apparently annoyed that she'd interrupted him. "What?"
"Can I just meet the children?"
"Right. I suppose that's what you're here for," he muttered under his breath. Out of his pocket, he took an odd-shaped, ornamented brass whistle, on which he piped a series of complicated trills.
Peg grinned. "I'm guessing it takes so long to call all seven children by name."
Baron Pete threw her a look. "Seven?"
Led by a sober-faced little girl, the three children marched down the stairs, all dressed in blue sailor suits. Peg blinked when two boys and a girl stood before her. "Where are the rest of them?"
Baron Pete put the whistle back in his pocket. "Rest of what? I've only got three children."
"You couldn't call three children by name?" Peg asked indecorously.
Ignoring her again, Baron Pete walked toward the biggest kid of the three. "This is my oldest, Rupert. And we call him PJ." Then he nodded at the thinner boy. "This is my second son, Werner, and we call him Max." Then he gestured at the little girl. "This is my youngest, Johanna, and we call her Pistol."
Peg shook her head. "The nicknames hold no resemblance to the birth names."
"Children, here is our new teacher, Fraulein Peg."
"We're happy to meet you, Fraulein Peg," three voices echoed in unison. Three perfect bows followed.
Peg smiled and bowed herself, and down fell the ugly helmet, rolling on the floor and landing at the tiny feet of little Johanna – eh, Pistol. A giggle escaped the little girl's mouth, followed by a gale of laughter.
"Pistol," Baron Pete warned. He snapped his fingers at PJ.
The boy, who looked remarkably like his father, fetched the helmet and handed it to Peg.
"Now, children, go back to your rooms and get ready. I want you on your best behavior tonight," Baron Pete said. The children obediently marched back up the stairs.
"Hans!" Baron Pete shouted.
The butler arrived at once and saluted him. "At your service."
"Take Fraulein Peg to her room."
"Okey dokey, Petey."
Baron Pete shot him a death glare.
"Oops, I mean, sir."
Baron Pete walked toward the TV while Hans Goof started to lead Peg toward the kitchen.
"Wait a minute," Peg said. "My room is over there?"
"You're going to share the basement with Hans," Baron Pete said absentmindedly, turning on the TV.
Peg squinted her eyes at the sharp lights coming from the screen. "What?"
"We don't have enough rooms." Baron Pete glanced at her, eyeing her hideous outfit in disdain. "Oh, and could you please wear something my grandma didn't wear? We're expecting an important guest tonight."
"This is the only outfit I have," Peg muttered.
Baron Pete slipped his hand into his robe and pulled out a wallet. He threw it at Hans Goof, who caught it easily. "Go buy her something pretty."
Hans Goof disappeared, leaving dust behind him. After Peg's second cough, he was back at the same spot he was standing in a couple of seconds ago, holding a fancy paper bag. "Here's your new dress, Fraulein Peg. Now follow me to the basement."