Epilogue – For Good

The Garnier Mansion – August 2007

"Christine! Get a move on! Richard's here!" Christine looks herself over in the mirror, straightening her new NYU sweater one last time before hurrying out the door and down the stairs in response to Missy's call. At the landing, Christine is met by arms around her and a quick whirl around on the part of Richard, and she can see Missy rolling her eyes.

"You look lovely, my dear," he says gentlemanly, bowing to her. Christine chuckles softly. "Your bags are in my car. Say your goodbyes and we'll be off." He nods to Madame and Missy then proceeds to walk out the door and to his car.

"Oh, Missy," Christine says mournfully, embracing her friend tightly. "I'm going to miss you!"

"And I you!" Missy responds, sniffling a little. Christine turns and hugs Madame just as amiably.

"Good luck, mon chéri. I do hope you'll write!"

"I promise!" Christine responds, kissing both women's cheeks and hurrying out the door to meet Richard in the car. They speed off towards the airport in silence. A few minutes into the trip, Christine begins to sniffle, then breaks into full-out sobs.

"What's wrong?" Richard asks her gently, putting a hand tenderly on her back. "Are you scared or something?"

"No," Christine sniffles, "It's just, well, can we make a stop? At the cemetery?"

"Oh," Richard says, suddenly understanding, "I understand." He makes the turn in the direction of the cemetery and steps on the gas pedal. Soon, they are in the parking lot. "I'll wait here, okay?"

"Okay," Christine responds, walking down the gravel path into the cemetery. The flowers on either side are so large they almost create an arbor above her, and soon she stops, seeing a patch of blood red on her right side; roses. Carefully, she plucks one from the bunch and continues onward. Finally, she reaches the small family plot, set aside with space for three graves, only filled by two.

Kneeling down by the nearest headstone, intricately engraved marble, she lays the rose at its feet. Inching ever closer to the headstone, Christine draws her fingers over the words. Erik Raoul Destler, 1981-2005, Musician and Son. Christine has the distinct urge to buy a new headstone for Erik, one that includes her own feelings for him. Not "Musician and Son." Rather, "Angel and Lover."

"Erik, I'm leaving you," Christine whispers. "I'm going to New York, Erik. I'm going to be a singer on Broadway, I hope." Looking up into the sky, Christine continues, "Are you up there? Did you make it there? Oh, Erik," she whimpers, looking down again and tracing her hand over the grass in front of the headstone. "I miss you so terribly."

With trepidation, hoping that nobody is watching, Christine places both palms on the headstone and leans forward, pressing her lips to the marble. "A little caught up, are we?" Christine jumps at Richard's voice. "It's alright," Richard says, taking a few steps towards her and offering her his hand, which she takes. Christine stands and finds Richard's arm around her, his free hand in hers, as they walk. "You still think about him, don't you?"

"All the time," Christine replies, nestling her head on his shoulder.

"I can't say that I know what he thought, but I think he'd be proud of you. If he's up there," Richard says, casting a glance upward at his referral to Heaven, "he's smiling at you." Christine stops Richard for a moment. She stands on her toes and kisses Richard gently on the lips, something she hasn't done in over 2 years. "What was that for?"

"For accepting this. I know it's not easy on you, knowing that I gave my heart to someone else. But saying what you just did wasn't necessary, and you did it anyway." They lace their fingers together and walk silently down the pathway back to the car.

At the airport, after helping Christine check her baggage, Richard takes her in his arms. "Good luck, Christine. I know you'll do well." Christine kisses him softly and hugs him back.

"I'll miss you, Richard! You will visit?"

"If I can, Christine. If I can." He embraces her one last time and begins to walk away. Tipping his fedora to her, he adds, "I'll see you on Broadway, Mademoiselle." A smile spreads across Christine's face as he gets in the car and drives off down the ramp and out of sight.

Hours later, Christine opens the door to her dormitory at New York University, a small, cramped space, but homelike all the same. Throwing her bags on the ground, she collapses on one of the beds and flicks on the television. One of the news stations, to her surprise, is doing a special on Broadway. The news anchor goes into a talk about a new play, Wicked, opening in the coming week, and how it's the prequel to "The Wizard of Oz," etcetera. Then, it cuts to a live performance by two female vocalists, the leads, who are to sing a song entitled "For Good."

The blonde singer starts, "I've heard it said that people come into our lives for a reason, bringing something we must learn and we are led to those who help us most to grow if we let them, and we help them in return. Now I don't know if I believe that's true, but I know I'm who I am today because I knew you." The song continues, and Christine fades into dreams. After another section, the second singer starts.

"It well may be that we may never meet again in this lifetime, so let me say before we part so much of me is made of what I learned from you. You'll be with me like a handprint on my heart, and now whatever way our stories end, know you have rewritten mine by being my friend." The words hit a nerve in Christine, reminding her of a distant melody, sung in a gorgeous voice years ago, but for the moment there is only the song being sung on the television, a song of friendship, love, and sad farewells.

The End