37
The letters from Erik to the Lefevre family and those from them were at regular weekly intervals, creating a formal barrier that allowed them to define their new connection.
Helen wrote a few to Sophie, mostly about the baby or Katrina. Katrina wrote two to each of them, out of a solemn sense that it was somehow her duty to her mother's family.
She started a third set, but Tomino ate them promptly and unabashedly. By then, it was late summer and a Sunday visit had been set. Helen forced a protesting Roberto in something besides his beloved soft nightgowns, and Katrina found something that she wasn't outgrowing or hadn't stained. Helen herself couldn't have cared less, knowing that she only need look decent and Erik would see to himself.
The party of four people, a dog and some token gifts set out early to arrive midmorning. Katrina craned to look up at the stone angels, as did Helen, wondering if these were some of her husband's early efforts.
Erik had disregarded the muffler, but taken the precautions of turning up his collar and turning down the hat brim. After so many years, this was the home of strangers, and was to be approached as such.
The old butler greeted him civilly, remarking that he had grown. The other servants were mercifully absent. They were shown into the library, where the household was assembled uneasily. Agard fidgeted, and was unsure what to look at as Erik was introduced to Andre.
The Opera Ghost removed his coat and hat with slow, practiced movements and there was a stillness afterwards for a moment. Agard paled, having forgotten the extent of his pupil's difficulty, but Andre, after a hard look, shrugged it off and asked Katrina how she had been.
It was a simple question, but it broke the tight air and the day was spent, if not comfortably, at least with a lesser degree of unease.
The visits continued monthly. It took a great deal of time, but the years were being unraveled and softened.
Marie had her baby in the fall, a boy as well. Madame was beside herself with joy, planning all sorts of excursions to the sea, including boats, balls and sand castles. The fact that the child was still red and put out at being introduced to the world escaped her.
The years wore on, with a pulsing regularity and randomness that makes up life.
Andre found work for a crippled gentleman who needed a strong and ever present employee to see to him.
Stephan married a young woman from the same village Katrina had lived in during her early childhood. She was the final blow to his rebellion. He would have built a small house on land he bought himself, but Jean and Sophie begged them to stay in the manor. It would, they said, have been too lonely otherwise.
Erik and Helen were expecting their second child, and Erik had been commissioned a little orchestral work by Jacques for performance the next season.
When the Masquerade again started, Katrina found herself looking into a flow of glitter from a balcony, musing that life was now flowing in the proper direction, and she had nothing more to ask for.
Years after, she recalled it as feeling like magic, but more comforting, more certain. Katrina knew that she would not be a little girl much longer, and that feeling was something she would have to remember. It would be a gentle voice to help her in times of turmoil, and a reassurance in times of sorrow.
She had the distinct impression that her mother would have been happy, and would have danced too.
However, it was Stephan who took her out into the throng of paper masks and blinding color, into the sound and energy, whirling her until she was breathless and shaky from laughter.