Chapt 7
"My parents were always involved in the arts, as you are well aware", Raoul began the conversation in his quiet voice while they all sipped their brandies, warmed themselves by the fire to remove the cold dampness of the day, and leaned closer to hear more. Raoul continued, "They were traveling to America to check on some investments they had made many years before. Erik you might find this interesting that they had plans during their stop in New York City to attend the city's Metropolitan Opera and see Strauss's opera, Don Juan." Erik noted that his cousin did not display any remorse in his eyes, but both knew the comparison being made to the coincidence of this particular opera. Someday maybe Erik would tell Raoul this was no coincidence . . .
At this point of the conversation, Mme Giry took her eyes off Raoul when he mentioned Don Juan and glanced over to Erik for his reaction. Erik nodded and admitted, "I knew only of the trip to New York, as your parents told my son on his last visit here and had asked if he would be interested in joining them." Raoul returned the nod, "And it was lucky for the both of you, and Christine, that he didn't go."
The younger Vicomte looked at his elderly cousin sadly, "I know this is not very consoling, but I loved my aunt and uncle very much. If it hadn't been that I was called to duty in the Royal Service of England, I would have gone with them." Erik looked down at his hands then back to his cousin as Raoul replied, "It is good that you did not make that trip, but maybe you could make it now."
Raoul motioned for the butler to come closer and whispered, "Would you please bring the large portfolio in my father's top desk drawer, thank you." The butler bowed to Raoul turned and left the room. Mme Giry took in everything happening and felt a sense of contentment in Raoul's demeanor, where she could tell Erik was trying hard not to displaying the distrust he was feeling when Raoul made the comment about his son taking a trip to America.
The butler returned holding a black portfolio with gold lettering and a stamped insignia that Erik couldn't make out. It looked like a country, but none that he'd ever seen on any maps of the Continent. Raoul put down his brandy glass and accepted the portfolio that was handed to him. He tenderly untied the string wrapped around the portfolio, pulled back the flap and pulled out a number of papers and pictures.
"This was to have been the inheritance of my children," Raoul stopped to clear his throat, reached for his glass once again and took another sip of brandy. Turning to the younger Erik he continued, "I know I haven't been much, actually not at all, of a family relative. I've always avoided you and your siblings when they could come to visit because . . .", now turning to Erik, "because I couldn't bear to accept choices that I couldn't control. A choice had been made a long time ago and I couldn't, didn't want to accept it, so I pretended that it never happened." Taking a deep breath, Raoul turned back to young Erik, "I feel like a heavy shadow has left me today and I must make this right." Handing the papers and pictures to his younger cousin, "Yes, my parents loved you as they loved me, no doubt of it, but I had to come to terms that their dreams can't just die. I have to continue the bloodline, even if it's not directly my own. I am asking you to accept this and go to America to legally take control of the land my parents purchased in California."
The trip wasn't for Vicomte Erik to make at this time, but for another . . . Gus, who was born in 1885 and named after his grandfather, Gustave Daae. He was the adventurous one, loving to travel as did his grandfather. He would go to America to claim the family land in California.