Chapter 15: Christmas on the North Shore

[featuring "Yet Another Obligatory Christmas Chapter" and "Distressing Love Letters"]

Christmas at Mazandaran was not as magical as the previous year, but it was charming nonetheless. Though the winter had been relatively dry, the North Shore of Long Island received its first snow of the season on the joyous holiday, coating Erik's estate in a blanket of powdery snow. Meg smiled at the glistening icicles hanging from the eaves outside her window when she woke on Christmas morning. She dressed quickly and raced downstairs to celebrate.

Erik was also unusually jolly when Meg and her mother found him waiting patiently in the breakfast room.

"Well, look who decided to eat today," Madame Giry scoffed at the unusual sight. A small smile appeared on Erik's face.

"What she means to say," Meg added, elbowing her mother, "is that we are very glad you decided to join us."

"Thank you, Meg," Erik replied brightly from his seat at the head of the table.

Since Gustave was no longer there, Meg took the boy's previous seat beside Erik, but she'd set her sights on the seat across from him, the seat for the lady of the house. Christine was home in Paris, never to be heard from again, and it was only a matter of time before the lonely man fell in love with his constant female companion.

After a pleasant breakfast, Erik and the Girys ambled into the parlour to exchange gifts.

"Here, Meg. This one's for you." Erik handed a present to Meg. She thanked him and gingerly pulled away the wrappings to reveal a small black jewelry box.

"Oh, thank you Erik! It's beautiful!" Meg gushed as she admired the silver locket Erik had gifted her. "Would you like to put it on me?" she asked coyly.

"Well, alright," Erik answered politely.

Meg swept her golden curls away from her face while Erik brought the chain around her neck. She looked down to admire the intricate design carved into the circular pendant. When she looked up, Erik was beaming shyly at her.

"You know, Meg, we mustn't forget our walk today," said Erik. "I suppose it's rather cold, but the snow looks so lovely."

"Oh, yes! Of course!" Meg replied, trying to contain her bubbling excitement.

She was elated that Erik had remembered their walk and even more thrilled that Erik looked forward to it. Their first walks had been largely silent, but then Erik started replying to Meg's one sided attempts at small talk. Before long, they were having full blown conversations with each other. Every once in a while, Erik spoke more than the naturally chatty Meg. His scholarly conversations were not particularly interesting to her, but when Erik smiled, she went weak at the knees. Meg knew she was making real progress the day she found him waiting in the foyer when she usually had to drag him from his bedroom. She'd worried winter would stop their walks, but perhaps they could cosy up in front of the library fireplace, and Erik would realize he loved her madly when he saw her face in the flickering flames.

After the friends finished exchanging gifts, Meg rushed to her room to change into warmer clothes. As she pulled mittens over her dainty hands, someone knocked on her door.

"It's me," said Erik from the hallway. Meg's heart quickened at the sound of his voice. Erik had never come to her door before; he must be especially eager today.

"Hello, Erik!" Meg greeted cheerfully when she opened the door. Erik was wearing his heavy wool coat with a long plaid scarf wound snuggly around his throat. He held a dapper top hat in his hands.

"Are you ready to go?" he asked, offering Meg his arm.

"I am indeed," Meg replied as she accepted his arm.

The pair chatted excitedly as they made their way to the garden. They giggled as they slid across the icy terrace and walked carefully down the stone staircase before stumbling into the snowy garden. Meg's descent was graceful, but Erik fell on his face; his top hat tumbled off his head and fell by his side. Erik chuckled and rolled onto his back to admire the grey sky overhead.

"I don't think I've ever frolicked in the snow before," he said jovially.

"You've been missing out! Have you ever made a snow angel?" Meg asked as she lay back and made the iconic imprint in the snow.

"No...I don't think I have…" Erik trailed off. He frowned at the use of the familiar word "angel", but he copied Meg's actions. He made an admirable first attempt, but he struggled to stand up without damaging his delicate snow angel.

"Do you need help?" Meg teased.

"I think I might...Thank you," Erik said as Meg pulled him to his feet. "I'm getting old, Meg."

"You're not so old!" she said with a smile.

"Older than you would think…" Erik muttered.

He was old enough to be her father. Meg was even younger than Christine, but at the age of twenty, Christine's heart had been as pure as a fifteen year old girl's, so she'd fit in with Meg and the other young ballerinas. Meg had only been a teenager when they escaped Paris, but she'd grown up in the blink of an eye. Erik sighed at the thought of it.

"Let's make a snowman," Meg suggested when she saw the troubled expression on Erik's face. "I bet you haven't done that before!"

"Yes…you're right about that." Erik chuckled. "Alright. Let's make a snowman."

Through the library window, Madame Giry caught sight of her daughter teaching Erik how to make a snowman. From the smile on his face, Erik was enjoying himself, and Meg looked to be in heaven. Madame Giry watched their growing relationship with great interest. A union between Erik and her daughter wouldn't be such a bad thing, but it would never occur. Erik would never fall in love with Meg so long as Christine was in the picture. Then again, Christine wasn't in the picture, nor would she ever be again...

In the weeks following Christmas, Meg grew ever closer to Erik. Madame Giry was careful, but hopeful, in encouraging Meg's pursuit of the man.

"Just don't be overbearing," Madame Giry cautioned. "And please don't get your hopes up…"

"Yes. I know! I know!" Meg exclaimed.

She shook her head at her mother's nagging, but the young woman grinned ear to ear. Her mother was trying to prepare her for disappointment, but Meg was certain she and Erik were meant to be. He knew of her affections, and their growing relationship was the only encouragement Meg needed.

She happily traipsed into the foyer to collect the mail from the side table by the front door. Erik used to be on top of his mail, but recently, it'd been one of the little tasks that had fallen by the wayside in his great distraction. Meg helped by delivering the stack of envelopes to his study, and she was beginning to think he "forgot" his mail on purpose so he could see her smiling face when she knocked on his study door every day.

Meg hummed as she nosily leafed through the envelopes to read the senders. Erik never had any interesting correspondances; it was usually business letters, but today, Meg's heart stopped when she recognized the feminine handwriting on one of the envelopes.

Christine!

Meg looked around to make sure no one was watching her before she set Christine's letter aside and walked to Erik's study with the rest of the mail.

"Come in!" he called when she knocked on the door.

"You forgot your mail again," Meg teased blithely as she set the stack on his desk.

"Meg! You must stop catering to my bad habits!" Erik chided as he reached for a letter opener in one of his desk drawers. "Thank you again!"

"You're very welcome!"

Meg calmly strode out of the study, but as soon as she was out of Erik's sight, her footsteps thundered across the floor as she sprinted back to the foyer and grabbed Christine's letter from a side table. Meg fled to her bedroom and tore into the letter while simultaneously collapsing on her bed, panting from lack of breath. If the letter proved to be uninteresting, she could explain the open envelope to Erik later. At most, he'd give her a little slap on the wrist for snooping.

When the letter began Dearest Erik, Meg knew she was in trouble. Her eyes devoured the words before her.

I hope this letter finds you well...hope you enjoyed the Christmas season...My husband has offered a divorce...

Meg's eyes grew wide. She chewed her lip nervously as she read on.

...Erik! I love you madly! I always have, and I always will! I wish nothing more than to spend the rest of my life at your side...

Meg huffed and crumpled the paper, wrinkling Christine's mushy sentiments for her "Angel of Music" as she still insisted on calling Erik even though Meg knew he hated the moniker these days. Meg stared at the ball of paper in her hands, wondering what was to be done. She couldn't let Erik see this letter.

The flame of her fireplace taunted her from the other side of the room. Meg approached the hearth, smiling deviously as she thrust the crumpled letter and its envelope into the flame.

The fire devoured Christine's letter. It was too late to reverse Meg's impulsive selfish decision. Christine's handwriting dissolved as the paper turned black with char. Meg's heart quickened with terror when she thought about what could happen if Erik found out about her betrayal, but she was more worried about what could happen if Christine wrote again.