Chapter 16: The Second Christmas
A/N: This is the last chapter! Thank you to all the lovely people who have read and reviewed and all the people who just read it without reviewing, I hope everyone enjoyed this story. I had a great time writing it.
Christine stepped off the train onto a mostly empty platform, except for a few men hugging each other and laughing.
She immediately heard someone calling her name and looked up, searching for the source of the voice and saw Fred running towards her.
"If you were looking for… someone else, they're all back at the inn getting ready."
"Perfect," Christine murmured. She glanced at her watch and her eyes widened. "I should go get ready. I missed rehearsal time and I only have a half hour."
"I'll drive you back then come round up these stragglers. They won't notice if we leave them," Fred said with a shrug. "How was New York? Meg told me you had a job there."
"I did," she said, grateful he hadn't mentioned Erik. Maybe Erik hadn't said anything. He didn't seem like the kind of man to spill all of his secrets to random teenage boys. "At the Garden Club. It was really beautiful. I would love to go back sometime, whether to perform or as a customer I don't care. If I had the money to eat there, I don't know if I would still be singing."
"I'm sure you've changed but you couldn't make it five minutes without humming or whistling or singing something. You're a natural music maker."
"Thank you," she muttered, blushing and smiling broadly.
Erik was backstage, trying to organize over a hundred men from the division, all trying to fit back into old army uniforms.
"Alright, gentlemen. When I give the signal, I want you to fall into two lines on either side of the stage like you did that day in Montecatini the day Franklin came through, remember? You need to look sharp, marching in before standing at attention, just like you would for inspection," he instructed. He wasn't even close to shouting, but they all heard him load and clear.
Upstairs, Celia and Lillian were watching Artie stare into his closet, a frown growing on his face.
"Where are all my suits?" he asked, turning to face them.
"I sent them to the cleaner," Lillian said with a shrug.
"Why would you send them all at the same time?" Artie snipped.
"You only have two!" Lillian cried, rolling her eyes.
Celia sat up, grinning at her grandfather.
"Why don't you wear your uniform?" she asked, pointing to the olive green coat and khakis hanging in a garment bag.
Artie bristled and turned back around to face the closet.
"I will not appear in uniform," he sniffed.
"Well then," Lillian sighed dramatically. "I'll have to tell Erik and Raoul you had other plans this evening and couldn't attend."
"You wouldn't dare. I'll have you court martialed!" Artie sniffed.
"Doesn't matter to me either way! It's not like they've done anything for you at all. Hardly anything, really. Come along, Celia."
While planning their diversion for the general the night before, the true nature of Erik and Raoul's plan with Nadir had been revealed to Lillian, thus leaving Christine as the only one in the dark until her conversation with Erik the night before.
The housekeeper took Celia by the hand and started to lead her from the room.
"I'll make my own decisions, Lillian," he snapped. "I got on just fine in the army without you."
"You'd be lost without me. It took 15,000 men to replace me overseas. You wouldn't last a day," she replied. She left the general standing there in shock, Celia in tow.
"15,000 men," he muttered to himself once they were gone.
"He's a stubborn old mule," Lillian was muttering as she and Celia walked down the stairs to the lobby. Celia burst ahead and flung the door open.
"Christine!" she cried. "You're back!"
"Shh! I was trying to sneak in!" Christine said as she came through the door. "Now all of New England knows I'm here."
"It's good to have you back," Celia murmured, hugging her tightly.
"Christine!"
Celia's embrace was replaced by Meg's.
"I'm so glad you're back darling," she said, burying her face in Christine's shoulder.
Lillian looked at the clock and began to usher them backstage
"Hurry. You only have twenty minutes before the show starts," she said.
Celia was left alone in the lobby. She waited for ten minutes with nothing to do before helping check in the last the last group of soldiers.
"You look real pretty tonight," Fred said once the soldiers hurried backstage at Celia's direction.
"Thank you," she said with a smile. She honestly did. The pale pink dress brought out the rosy undertones in her cheeks. Lillian had pinned some baby's breath she had gotten at the grocery store in her hair. The whole thing together made her look like the goddess of spring.
"Would you like to study together for chemistry sometime?" he asked, her voice breaking slightly. Celia didn't notice.
"Sure! You mentioned you needed-"
She was cut off by the sight of Artie coming down the stairs, in uniform.
"Grandpa," she murmured. She had only seen him in his uniform twice before. Once when she was a little girl and he was leaving for the front lines, and then again when he came home. Though she remembered both times clearly enough, she had not been focused on the state of his dress.
"Do I look alright?" he asked, spinning slowly for her.
"Like a real general," she said with a grin.
"Are we allowed to go in yet?"
"I think so, sir," Fred said, cracking the door open to peak into the lodge.
"Shall we go through then?" He turned to Celia, offering his arm. She accepted it, feeling like a proper lady all dressed up, going to a professional show, even if it was in her dining room.
Fred opened the doors for them and as soon as they stepped through, they were hit in the face by a spotlight. The entire room leapt to its feet, applauding for nearly five continuous minutes.
Artie stood there dumbfounded, looking between Celia and Lillian and the crowd.
Finally Celia nudged him forward and he walked towards a table that had an intricately decorated cake on it. Ten red candles surrounded the words "Tenth Anniversary of the 151st Division".
The sound of a bugle and marching drums playing finally silenced the crowd.
The curtain rose, revealing Erik in uniform, center stage in from of a set wall built to resemble the one that Raoul saved him from.
Only the soldiers and Arthur knew the song they sang as they marched forward in rows of four folding off and forming two long, straight columns to the stage. It was the same one they had sang on Christmas Eve years earlier, the day before Arthur retired.
When they were all in formation, Erik raised his hand in salute.
"Troops are ready for inspection, sir," he announced.
Artie bit back tears, saluting Erik in return. When he didn't more, his former assistant in the war nudged him.
"It's just routine, sir," he whispered.
Artie's face became severe as he stepped towards the troops at attention.
"I am not satisfied with the performance of this division. Some of you men are under the impression that having been a non-CO entitles you not to wear neckties. You're wrong! Neckties will be worn in this area! Look at the rest of you! You're a disgrace to the uniform! You're slow! You're sloppy! You're disorganized! You're slapdash and irregular! You're the best Christmas present a man could ask for," he said.
The soldiers broke into smiles as he made his way back towards the table, shaking their hands as he went.
"Thank you," he whispered to Erik and Raoul when he made it back to them. "I meant it. This is the best Christmas present I could ever ask for."
"Anything for you, sir," Raoul said, giving him a smile.
"Of course, sir," Erik sniffed.
The general blew out the candles on the cake and Erik and Raoul went backstage to get ready for the next number.
Erik stood up straight in the wings when he heard the music playing.
"I thought we cut this number," he hissed.
Raoul frowned.
"I thought we did too," he muttered. "They must have found someone who could do her part."
Erik's frown deepened. He had written Christine's part for Christine. Not some random chit who sang in the school choir.
The number was about a going to a party at a dance hall and asking someone to dance. The choreography had Erik and Raoul on stage first, singing and dancing together, bemoaning about the lack of women to dance with. They were doing this when Erik thought he must be hallucinating. People had auditory hallucinations, right? He swore on his grave that he heard Christine's voice floating in behind him. He couldn't look, because he was supposed to be facing Raoul. Suddenly he was doing the polka around the stage, not only with Christine's voice, but the rest of her as well.
She had been amused by his surprise, grinning while he tried to keep singing despite going into shock.
At a break in the music, he let out a ragged breath, gingerly touching her hair, almost testing to see if she was real.
"You're here," he breathed.
"I'm here," she murmured back.
"Are you leaving. After the show I mean?"
"No."
The dance break ended and they had to finish the number before hurrying off to change for the next one.
Finally they only had the curtain call left and Erik was high on the thrill of performing. Despite his general dislike for humans and human interactions, he deeply enjoyed performing, especially with Christine.
Christine had never been happier with a decision in her life. The show had been a dream come true. She had always wanted to be part of a big musical, playing opposite her real life man candy. True, in her fanciful youth she had pictured Raoul (something she cringed at now) or Gene Kelly. Her vision had changed slightly. Now she was singing with Erik and he was smiling at her the way he had been all night.
She turned and looked out the window, gasping at what she saw.
"Meg!" She cried. "Oh, Meg, look!"
Meg hurried over, wearing a dress similar to Christine's but made with lace.
"Snow!" she gasped.
"Snow," Christine murmured, staring out the window, watching as flakes floated down in the dim light. She nearly missed her cue to take her bow because she had been staring at the wonderful stuff.
She didn't actually get to go and look at the now till much later once everyone was asleep. Well, almost everyone.
Wearing her pajamas with her robe and coat on, she snuck out into the front drive, looking up at the snow falling around her, turning slowly to take in the magnificent stuff.
She didn't hear Erik follow her down the stairs, or Meg and Raoul creep down after him.
Erik stopped in the doorway, watching her. She looked beautiful, even in her pajamas and old battered coat. They hadn't had a chance to be alone all evening, and he would be damned if he let the night end without talking to her.
Meg and Raoul grinned as they followed him, trying to move at quietly as possible. Not that it mattered, as Erik was too distracted to notice them.
"I think this is it," Meg whispered.
"I hope so. Now I can be a happy bachelor forever knowing he had someone else to stop him from working himself to death," Raoul said.
"You want to be a bachelor forever?"
"Unless I find the right girl. I'd rather get married sooner than later," he sighed. "And who'd want to marry a silly fop like me?"
"Oh, I'm sure you'll find someone," Meg murmured.
"It should be someone I know," he said, curious if she would
"That always helps," she muttered sarcastically.
"It should be a mature young woman, with a stable career, and talent," he said. "Witty, charming, attractive."
"Those are all nice."
"Sure, but where are you going to find such a wonder woman?" she asked.
Raoul shrugged and slid a little closer to her, lacing his fingers through hers.
"Don't be so modest," he said, grinning.
"Darling, gals like that don't just- OH!" She cried when realization hit her. "Me? You- ME?"
"If you'll have me," Raoul said. "I don't want to get married right away of course, but if you wanted to get drinks-"
"It took you long enough!"
Raoul grinned and pulled her towards him. The kissed in between fits of laughter, completely forgetting about their friends, only able to focus on the person beside them.
Christine gazed up at the night sky, unaware of Erik watching her. She turned suddenly and jumped when she saw him.
"Oh! You nearly stopped my heart!" she said, laughing awkwardly. "What are you doing up?"
"I could ask you the same thing. You're going to freeze out there," he sniffed, looking up at the snow.
"I'm just taking it in while I can. You should too. It's the whole reason you came here, right? The snow and the cold air," she said with a smile.
"It wasn't the only thing," he said softly. She didn't know what to say, so she just looked up at the sky again, taking a deep breath.
"Are you going to come out here or not? Either way shut the door so Lillian doesn't skin you alive for letting all the warm air out," she said.
He stepped outside, shutting the door behind him before turning to look at her again. Like approaching a skittish animal, he took a few slow steps towards her and stopped, letting her close the distance if she chose to.
Christine watched him approach with bated breath. She wished it wasn't up to her to do the work. She wanted him to grab her and kiss her, but knew that wouldn't happen. He probably thought she hated him, which couldn't be farther from the truth. All she had to do was tell him.
"You're infuriating, you know that?" She snapped. He looked taken aback and she continued before he could respond. "You argue with me and make me cry, and then you show me magic tricks after crashing my vacation, and I know it was Raoul and Meg's doing, but it was… it was…"
"Infuriating?" Erik supplied, trying to hide his smile.
"Yes! And then we kissed, and I know I ran away first, but you followed me and wanted to see me, and when you did you ran away! You didn't even give me time to process anything, you were there and you, you loved me!" she cried.
"I still do," he whispered.
"You love me," she repeated, looking away from him at the snow. She turned back around and said with a certainty she had never had before, "I love you too."
Erik sucked in a quick breath, fingers twitching slightly. She ran towards him and he caught her, smiling at her. She stood on her tip-toes and kissed him, arms wrapped around his neck.
He kissed her back without hesitation, pulling her close. He pressed kisses onto her forehead and down the side of her face before bending over further to pepper kisses down the column of her throat.
"I love you," she whispered. He could feel the vibrations in her vocal chords as he kissed her throat. He thought it was the most magical thing in the world, feeling her say those words, that he hadn't dared to dream she would ever say to him.
He moved his hands up from her waist to cradle her face.
"Say it again," he breathed, resting his forehead against hers.
"I love you," she murmured as her eyes fluttered open. He searched them for any sign of discontent. He found none, only pure happiness and something he recognized in her gaze, something he should have noticed and labeled before, but he hadn't known what it was. Now he knew it was love and he wondered if his eyes had the same glow.
"Even though I'm infuriating?" he asked, frowning a little.
"Especially because you're infuriating," she said, laughing. She pressed a little kiss on the tip of his nose.
The gesture bothered him a little, as he didn't have a nose. He couldn't feel the light pressure on his skin of her lips through the leather, but it seemed to make her happy so he didn't say anything.
He bent down again, but instead of kissing her he picked her up and spun her around. Christine let out a squeal and laughed, holding on tighter. He set her down as a cold wind brushed past her. She shuffled closer to him, which was virtually impossible already, to escape he biting breeze.
"I'm cold," she whispered.
"I know, my dear," he said. "Your hands are ice."
They walked inside hand in hand, shoulders brushing against the others. Christine pulled him into the living room where the fire was still burning and the Christmas tree glittered and glowed in the dim light.
Erik sat down on the couch, fully expecting Christine to sit an appropriate distance away, but instead she settled right on his lap, leaning back against his chest.
It took him a moment, but once he regained his senses he stretched his legs out on the sofa, allowing Christine to lay on top of him with his lanky arm looped around her waist.
"Christine?"
"Erik?"
"Will you say it again?"
"I love you," she breathed, squeezing his hand.
"I love you too," he murmured, squeezing her hand in return. He was unable to stop the stupidly large smile that spread across his face as he buried his face in her hair, covering the top of her head in delicate kisses.
They had been sitting there for a long time when Erik felt her breathing even out. He thought she had fallen asleep until the clock struck midnight and she yawned sleepily. She peered up at him in a sleepy daze, smiling.
"Merry Christmas, Erik."
"Merry Christmas, Christine."