"So," said Lily slowly, chewing on the words before saying them, "Erik used to be in love with this famous diva who's come to town?"
"Mhmm," Meg hummed. She sat on a barstool in Lily's tiny kitchen, holding out a bowl to catch the scraps as Lily shaved carrots.
"And she rejected him, clearly."
"Yeah."
"Just… not interested?"
"Guess not," said Meg. "And Erik was… well, Erik."
Lily chuckled. "That's all you really need to say. I can imagine the rest."
"I wouldn't be so sure," said Meg, grinning despite herself.
"That bad, huh? Ah, well," said Lily. "From the sounds of it, he won't go after her."
"He better not," said Meg. "If he does, I'm gonna be at your door at three a.m. for your help in catching him."
"I'll be awake and ready," Lily joked. "I read the article about them. She's pretty. A bit of a misfit in the husband's family, it sounds like."
"Yeah, Christine has a lot much more in common with working people," said Meg. "She was poor her whole life and never really minded until her father got sick."
"Is he around?"
"No, he passed right before I met her. She was… eighteen, nineteen, maybe. And she was devastated. She was all alone with no family to take care of her. All she knew was music - that's why she ended up working at the theatre with all of us."
"Huh," said Lily. "Well, she sounds pleasant. I'm glad you got reunited with your old friend, after all these years."
Meg laughed lightly at the dry tone in Lily's voice. "Don't worry, Lil, you're still my best girl."
Lily laughed as the door opened, and her older brother, Ralph, stepped through. He was tall and bearded, and he worked at a factory a few blocks from the theatre.
"Hey, Meg," he said, waving in greeting.
"Hello," said Meg.
"I thought you'd be here, and I brought this," said Ralph. He held something out to Meg - an aluminum can with a brightly colored label. She took it. "Look! It's got writing in French. Can you tell me what it says?"
"It says 'beef stew'," said Meg over Lily's laughter, "but Ralph, it says the same thing in English right above it."
"I know, I know," said Ralph with mock defensiveness. "But what's the point in having my sister's best friend speak French if I can't make you read things for me in French?"
"Hey now, I'm getting pretty good," said Lily, pointing the knife at her brother, who raised his hands. During the many months the company had spent in construction, working odd jobs around the theatre, Meg had begun to teach her phrases and words in French. Madame Giry and Erik chimed in to help on occasion, with drastically different degrees of enthusiasm. "I probably could've told you what that meant."
"Okay, okay, dummy," said Ralph, wandering away from the kitchen and out of sight. "Is Tommy home yet?" he called.
"No," Lily yelled back. "Leave us alone."
"Whatever!"
"Anyways," said Lily, "I hope le Monsieur is all right. It's never fun to see somebody you used to be in love with."
"Or be on the same side of the Atlantic with them," Meg added.
"True words have ne'er been spoken," said Lily.
"Anyway, Raoul and Christine have left for Vermont, and they won't be back until Saturday," said Meg. "Plenty of time to get Erik entirely focused on something else. But enough about that man. Tell me about your week."
"You're looking at it," said Lily. "I've never had a job before that only employed me on the evenings and weekends, let alone that pays as well as this one. So I've found myself quite at a loss for how to spend my time."
"Yes?"
"Yes, and yesterday I went into the city, simply because I could, and because I needed to get something for Tommy's birthday next week." Ralph and Lily's oldest brother, Tommy, lived with them as well in their tiny apartment that Meg had come to love as much as her own. "I actually had the money to get him something real nice. But I won't say what, since Ralph's listening, and he'll tell him."
"Am not!" shouted Ralph from the other room.
"Why don't you come to the theatre tomorrow?" Meg interjected. "I mean - not the theatre, but Maman and I's apartment. You could spend the day there, and we could enjoy our much needed opportunity to do nothing at all."
"I wouldn't mind that," said Lily, finishing the carrots and adding them to the chicken soup that was boiling on the stove. "We've got that meeting with Peter and Erik in the evening anyway, so I have to go no matter what."
"See? It's a perfect plan," said Meg.
"I'll be there," said Lily, setting down the ladle she had used to stir the soup. "This is ready. Tommy should be home by now," she added, glancing worriedly at the clock. "He usually gets home before Ralph does."
"Well, he'd better hurry," said Ralph, coming back into the kitchen in different clothes, "because I, for one, am ready to eat."
"Away," said Lily, and Meg handed her the knife to point at him. "We wait for your brother."
Ralph retreated from the kitchen, grumbling, and Lily turned back to Meg. "Tommy's been working later and later hours with the holiday season coming up. He's been particularly quiet and even though he won't admit it, I can tell how tired he is."
"Once we get through more performances," Meg said thoughtfully, "we'll all be paid more - to make up for all the work we've done so far - and he can have a lighter schedule."
"I don't know," said Lily, staring into the soup as though she saw visions within it. "We can hardly pay the rent as it is, and you remember how difficult it was for us to find this place… I just hope Erik has some new production in the works, because I don't know how we can stay here long term if I don't make more consistent money." She shook her head as if shaking off these thoughts. "I'm sorry, Meg. I shouldn't be complaining to you about money - I don't wanna seem…"
"No," said Meg, reaching out to put a hand on her friend's shoulder. "I completely understand. I'll talk to Erik about it. He's too much of a magician to leave you three out in the cold, particularly not when you've done so much for him."
Lily smiled weakly at Meg, but they were both distracted by the door opening and Lily's brother Tommy stumbling through.
"There you are!" Lily exclaimed, picking up the ladle again. "We've been - what's wrong?"
Tommy squinted at her. He was shorter than Ralph, and stockier, but his usual stoic expression - second only to Erik's - was disrupted by his swollen left eye, the blood splattered from a cut in his cheek, his nose, and the corner of his mouth, and his torn clothes. He clutched his side, wincing.
"Tommy!" Lily said shrilly, racing over to him. "Are you all right?"
"M'all right," he said, or rather hissed, allowing her to steady him but turning away from her inspection.
"What the hell happened?" said Meg, coming around to his other side.
"Those bastards by the train station," said Tommy.
"They did this to you?" shouted Lily.
Ralph appeared. "What?"
"I just need to sit down," said Tommy. Meg dragged over her stool, and he went to sit but cried out in pain.
"Tom, what's happened to your side?" Ralph asked, taking Lily's place as his brother's support.
"They got in a couple kicks, that's all…"
"Oh my god," said Lily.
"How bad is it?" said Ralph, leaning down to be at eye level with his older brother.
"Broken rib, maybe… I don't know…" Tommy closed his eyes, and he stumbled sideways as if he had nearly fallen asleep.
"Hey, Tom, stay with me, here," said Ralph. "You need to go to a doctor."
"They won't treat me," muttered Tommy, his eyes still shut. His left eyelid was turning a nauseating blue color. "Can't afford it."
"You need medical attention," Meg insisted.
Tommy's eyes opened a fraction of an inch. "Hi, Meg."
"A doctor," Meg said firmly.
Ralph and Lily were staring at each other with panicked expressions.
"Let's go to the Vivaldi," said Meg, before she had fully processed her decision.
"It's a theatre, not a hospital," Ralph retorted.
"My cousin Erik can help," Meg fired back. "He's been in rough spots and has had to take care of his own wounds. I broke my leg three years ago and he took care of me cause we couldn't afford a doctor. He can help Tommy, I'm sure of it."
"Will he?" asked Ralph skeptically. "He seemed a bit… well, scary."
"Erik can help him?" Lily asked, much more hopeful than her brother.
"I'm sure of it," Meg repeated. "I'll force him to do it if I have to."
"The Vivaldi isn't far from here," Lily said, running over to shut off the stove and grab her coat. "It's much closer than any doctor anyway."
Ralph did not look convinced, but Tommy let out a low groan, sagging on his feet, and all trepidation was immediately forgotten.
"You run ahead," Meg said to Lily. "I'm taller - I'll help Ralph with Tom, and you go let Erik know what's happening."
Lily nodded and was gone, and Ralph and Meg each pulled one of Tom's arms over their shoulders. They left the apartment painstakingly slowly, trying not to disturb his damaged chest any further. Ralph locked the door and, like a three headed monster, they limped to the stairway at the end of the hall, where Meg and Ralph switched places so most of Tommy's weight could rest on Ralph, who leaned onto the railing.
As they made their way down the uneven sidewalk, passersby gave them odd, even disapproving looks. Tommy lost consciousness several times, but Ralph yelled and shook him until he awakened again. Meg began to sweat and blood from a cut on the injured man's arm dripped onto her hair, her clothes, her hands. Before long, showing sensitivity to Tommy's ribs became less of a priority as he passed out more and more frequently; they could only focus on getting him help as soon as possible.
About a block away from the theatre, salvation arrived in the form of Erik, who sprinted towards them, startling many bystanders with his lanky form running at full tilt like an escaped scarecrow. Without a word, he replaced Meg under Tommy's arm and helped Ralph usher him through the rest of the journey.
Madame Giry and Lily were already in the lobby, and Lily clutched Meg's hand as they followed the three men up the stairs to the rooms where Erik resided. Tommy yelped out in pain as they laid him down on the sofa, and Erik straightened up.
"Painkillers," said Erik to Meg. "Do you have them?"
"Yes."
"Get them. I need to put a splint along his side so the bones can heal." He gently felt along the side of Tommy's torso. "Based on the amount of pain he's in, they're probably broken, but I don't think they've pictured anything. Madame, some ice for his eye and something to clean the cuts with…"
Meg ran down the hall to the Girys' residence. She hadn't noticed Lily follow her until she caught a glimpse of her reflection in the bathroom mirror.
"Pain killers?" said Lily, out of breath but suspicious.
"Hidden here, kept in case of situations exactly like these," said Meg, rummaging through the cupboards. "Shit, I did a great job of hiding them."
"Why?"
"Erik used to have an opioid problem, so I began to hide his stuff," said Meg. "He was furious but he got the memo and recovered."
"This is too much information for right now," said Lily weakly.
"You asked. Ah, here." Meg found a small bottle of pills that were marked as a sleeping aid. "Come on, let's hurry."
As Erik tended to his patient, Madame Giry ushered Ralph, Lily, and Meg from the room.
"He'll be fine," said Giry to Meg, in French. "I would have been able to tell in Erik's behavior if it were that bad."
Meg repeated this optimism to Ralph and Lily, and she saw the tension leave them as she had cut puppet strings controlling them. Ralph slid to the floor, leaning against the wall, and Lily headed down the hall; Meg followed.
"He'll probably need to stay here for a while until he recovers," said Meg.
Lily nodded mutely.
"I'll talk to Erik about it."
Meg looked at her intently until Lily met her gaze. "Lily, he's going to be okay."
With a suddenness that was not entirely surprising, Lily burst into tears. Meg pulled her into her arms, letting her friend cry into her shoulder, and they remained there until Erik wandered down the hall, stopping at a respectful distance.
"How is he?" Meg asked, causing Lily to look up.
"I've done what I can," said Erik. "The painkillers will hit in a little while, and he'll be much more comfortable, and he will be able to sleep normally, too. The cuts won't be infected, and his ribs will heal well. He can stay here, and I'll look after him until he's well enough to take care of himself," he added, glancing at Meg for approval. She nodded.
"Can we stay here?" said Lily, wiping her eyes. "To stay close to him?"
"Of course," said Erik. "I think there's room for one other in my study…"
"And Lily, you can stay with us," said Meg.
"Thank you," said Lily tearfully.
"He's going to be fine," said Erik, offering her a rare smile. "I've seen far worse. I'm glad you brought him here so quickly. You can go see him, if you want," he said, gesturing over his shoulder.
Lily hurried down the hall, and Erik turned to Meg.
"Thank you," she said.
"It's truly nothing," he replied curtly. "Who the hell did that to him?"
"I'm not sure. Some gangsters over by the train station, it sounds like."
"I've been reading about them in the news," said Erik wisely. "They sound like they need to be put in their place."
"I know what you're thinking. Don't do anything."
"I wasn't going to… I wasn't…" Erik trailed off, lost in thought. "I was about to make something to eat. Maybe I should make enough for all of us?"
"I'll help," Meg offered.
"No," said Erik, waving her away. "You'd only cause trouble."
As Erik predicted, Tommy fell asleep rapidly, and not long after the others had eaten, Madame Giry retired for the night, and Ralph dozed off in Erik's study, overexerted from the events of the evening. This left Lily, Meg, and Erik sitting around the small fireplace, each more worn out than the last, drinking wine and enjoying the warmth.
"Meg was telling me about Madame de Chagny," said Lily.
Erik's eyes snapped over to Meg, irritated. "Did she, now?"
"No details, don't worry," said Lily sleepily. "Rejection is hard. It makes complete sense that her voyage here would be difficult for you."
Meg raised her eyes pointedly at Erik, as if to mock him for thinking she would betray his trust. Lily, catching on to this interaction, laughed.
"One of these days, I'm going to get you to tell me your whole life story," Lily said boldly, swinging an arm around Meg's shoulders in an unintentional mimic of the injured Tommy during the journey to the theatre.
"I'm afraid you'd never speak to me again," said Erik dryly.
"You underestimate me," said Lily.
"You're right, Madame, I beg your pardon."
"It is granted," said Lily in a posh accent, and the corners of Erik's mouth twitched.
"I'm exhausted," said Meg. "Which is remarkable, since I've done less this week than I ever have done in my entire life."
The other two murmured in agreement.
Lily said: "How's this? Je me suis beaucoup amusée cette semaine."
"Brava," said Erik, and Meg added, "Your accent is way better now."
"What's the French word for wine?"
"Vin," said Meg.
"I thought that meant 'twenty'."
"That's vingt. Although I guess they do sound the same." Meg laughed softly.
"French is bizarre… you are all so bizarre…" Lily yawned, leaning back and closing her eyes.
Meg continued to stare into the fire even as Erik got up and disappeared into the kitchen. She could hear him cleaning dishes, and although she meant to get up to help, she found herself drifting off to sleep, curled up on the couch, leaning against the pillows, next to Lily, calmed and comforted by the warmth of the fire...
Thanks for reading! I hope you are all staying safe and healthy :)