Christine sat cross legged on her bed and cradled the phone between her shoulder and her ear as she painted her nails a festive shade of dark red.
"So," she said, trying to pretend she was bringing it up casually and not brimming with nerves over it like she actually was. "I know we talked about Thanksgiving before, that we're spending it with the Giry's..."
"Yeah," Raoul's voice was warm on the other side of the phone. "I'm looking forward to it!"
She chewed her lip. She had to bring it up - now or never.
"Would you mind if Erik came to dinner too?" she blurted out.
Silence. She squeezed her eyes shut.
"But Christine- he's- he's miserable," Raoul protested.
"He's only miserable because he thinks no one cares about him," she pouted.
"No, I mean, he's miserable to be around."
"Raoul!"
"Well it's true. Maybe not for you, but I think I speak for everyone when I say-"
"Don't," she cut him off. "I won't ask him, if that's how you feel."
Raoul sighed. He loved Christine dearly and her happiness was his biggest priority in their relationship - but he couldn't help that her music teacher was a miserable wretch. He had no problem with her spending time with the man, nor even with Erik's being in love with Christine (a feeling that he felt certain wasn't exactly unrequited) - but for the life of him, Raoul couldn't see whatever it was Christine saw in him. No, he had problem with her spending time with Erik - just as long as he didn't have to be around him.
"If you promise he can behave himself," Raoul relented.
It seemed like a ridiculous thing to have to ask of a man who was pushing forty, but Erik himself was a ridiculous thing, so here they were.
"If he can be... not like how he is, then he can come. I won't mind," he said.
"Oh, Raoul, thank you! I think he'll really appreci- wait, what do you mean? How is he, exactly?"
"You know what I mean," his voice bordered on petulant. "As long as he doesn't bring a taxidermy rat to the dinner table, or put a tarantula on me again, or stand behind the curtains and stare at us or something."
Christine sighed wearily.
"The rat was a one time thing, Raoul, he only wanted to scare you... So was the spider. Look, I'll make sure he's... normalfor dinner."
Raoul made a noncommittal noise, and Christine paused.
"Are you sure you're okay with this?" she asked. "I don't have to ask him. We can forget I brought it up, if you'd like. It's okay."
"No," he said. "You can bring him. I don't mind."
"Thank you, Raoul," she said gratefully. "This means a lot to me. I'll see you then, okay? I love you."
"I love you too, Lotte."
She carefully let the phone drop to her bed and pressed the 'end call' button with a delicate finger, praying she wouldn't get nail polish on the screen. She nearly felt like squealing. Wait till Erik heard the good news!
But when she saw him later that day, the 'good news' didn't land as well as she thought it would.
"Thanksgiving is coming up," she said warmly after her voice lesson had ended.
"So?"
"So I'm having dinner with Madame Giry and Meg. They're having Nadir over, too, and I'm bringing Raoul."
Erik got a faraway look in his mismatched eyes. Christine felt a little giddy. This was it. Erik was going to be so happy to be included in the festivities!
"And I was wondering - would you like to join us too?"
"No," he said flatly.
Her face fell.
"Oh..." she looked down. She hadn't been expecting that.
Erik felt badly as he watched her. He hadn't meant to make her feel sad like that, it was just... he had already been asked to Thanksgiving dinner - the exact same Thanksgiving dinner - two previous times, once by Madame Giry, and once by Nadir. He had, of course, refused each time. If they all wanted to spend the day together and be miserable in a group, that was their problem, but how dare they try to rope him into it as well! Was it not enough that he saw them at work nearly every day? Did he not get one single respite from these people? But Christine-
Christine was different. She was almost enough to make him wish he celebrated Thanksgiving.
"It's just-" he hesitated. "I don't do Thanksgiving, Christine. That's all."
She looked up, a little confused.
"Why not?"
"It's a wretched holiday, that's why."
"Erik! It's a lovely holiday!"
"Lovely? Certainly, that's what the green bean casserole commercials and the Hallmark channel would have you believe," he sniffed. "But I know the truth of it, Christine."
"And what truth is that?"
"That it's an entire day spent around people who get on your nerves while trying to cook an elaborate meal that most people aren't prepared to cook, and in the end it's far more hassle and headache than it's worth."
She raised an eyebrow.
"That's not what Thanksgiving is like," she protested. "It's a beautiful day filled with people you love and reminders of why you're grateful and- and pie."
"Hm. Regardless, my dear, I'm afraid I'll have to decline."
He warred against himself - he hated eating with other people, but he also longed to spend time with her. Still - Thanksgiving? No thank you. Perhaps another day - literally any other day, please.
"I'm sorry you feel that way," she said, and shrugged before adding- "Raoul didn't want you to come, anyway."
His eyes lit up.
"Oh, he didn't, did he? What, ah, what time should I come over, then?"
She grinned up at him. He could be an intimidating figure to most, but Christine knew how to play him like any other instrument. He would never pass up an opportunity to annoy Raoul.
They discussed the plans for the big day a little more as he ushered her out of his apartment on the second story above the recording studio that Nadir owned and downstairs through the office where Madame Giry worked.
"I'm so excited, Erik!" she bounced on her toes as they stood by the front door and she prepared to leave. "I can't wait!"
"Can't wait to be surrounded by people who annoy you?"
"To be surrounded by people I love!"
"That's practically the same thing, isn't it?"
She paused.
"Do I annoy you, Erik?" she looked up at him with brown eyes full of innocence, and he choked on his own words.
"Ah, ahem, you ah- that is to say, I- only- only when you forget your posture during your warm up exercises," he stuttered.
She giggled at his adorable awkwardness, and reached a hand up to cup the uncovered side of his face. He leaned into her touch, his heart racing.
"I'll see you on Thanksgiving, okay?" she said sweetly, and he managed a nod.
Soon enough it was the big day. She arrived at Madame Giry's house nearly the same time as Raoul, whom she greeted with a hug and a kiss.
"Is Erik going to be here tonight?" he asked, looking warily at the house.
"He said he would, but I don't know if he's here yet."
Once inside they found that Erik had yet to arrive, though Nadir was already there.
They sat and talked for a little while, and soon they began to move to the kitchen to work on preparing the meal together.
Nadir was setting the table, though of course the food would not yet be ready for several more hours. Madame Giry was putting up some last minute decorations. In the kitchen, Christine had rolled up her sleeves and was nearly elbow deep in a pile of potato peelings, Raoul was searching for a thermometer for the turkey, and Meg was putting the final touches on three different pies.
Christine chopped the peeled potatoes into squares, frowning down at them. She was beginning to fear that Erik wasn't going to show up after all. Of course he didn't have to come if he didn't want to, but it made her heart hurt to think of him all alone on a holiday - that had been her on far too many holidays after her father had died, all alone with nothing to celebrate.
She was quite pleased then, when at last the doorbell rang. She nearly sprang to go answer it, but her hands were covered in potato juice.
"Ma," Meg called out, not realizing her mother had gone into the attic to retrieve a cardboard turkey. "Get the door!"
Christine finished chopping the last few potatoes, delighted that he had finally shown up. She couldn't wait to get all the potato chunks into the pot for boiling so she could go out the dining room where he was probably busy talking with Nadir.
"Here," Meg motioned to Raoul. "This pie is ready to go into the fridge, can you put it in?"
Raoul nodded and went over to take the pecan pie. But as he turned and headed back towards the fridge, he happened to glance at the window - and also at a certain person standing there with both his hands and his masked face pressed up against the glass.
Raoul yelped in surprise and dropped the pie, which turned over and fell onto the ground with a splatter.
The sound of the pie hitting the floor caused both girls to turn and stare at Raoul as though he had just kicked a puppy.
"Raoul!" Christine was scandalized.
"It's not my fault!" he protested, and pointed at the now empty window, hissing his next words. "It's that- that phantom!"
Christine made a dash for the front door, recognizing Raoul's nickname for her beloved teacher. Had no one let him in yet? The poor man!
When she opened the door, he was there on the doorstep, standing back a little, his face blank and his body language nonchalant, as though he didn't really care if he came in or not, entirely pretending that he hadn't just been searching for another way into the house after being seemingly ignored the first time he rang the doorbell.
"Erik!" she beamed. "Come in!"
He entered without a word, and Nadir came out to greet him.
"Erik! There's my favorite sound engineer!" he reached out a hand to give him a good natured pat on the shoulder, but Erik gave his hand a very pointed look so Nadir pulled it back before it made contact.
Erik made no audible reply to Nadir's greeting, but his response was visible across his face - he was Nadir's only sound engineer, though, of course, he didn't bother saying so because even if he did employ any other engineers besides Erik, Erik knew he would still be the best one there.
"Let me take your coat," Christine offered, and Erik squeezed his hands around the edges of said coat, as though he didn't want to take it off.
His eyes darted to Nadir, to take in what he was wearing. Just as Christine had previously told him, he was wearing a very unflattering holiday sweater. The man looked like an idiot in his red and blue checkerboard sweater, so Erik supposed it was okay if he looked like an idiot as well. He glanced at Christine. It was harder to tell for her, because he thought she was beautiful no matter what she wore, but he supposed the purple sweater with a big, goofy cat face that was sticking its tongue out could be considered ugly, if it were on someone else. He reluctantly let Christine take his coat. Her eyes lit up at the ugly sweater he was wearing - white with a jagged teal stripe and thin lines of purple across the middle. He remembered! She had been afraid he would be the only one at dinner to not wear an ugly sweater.
He listened to her chirp brightly about the dishes that were cooking and the plans for the evening as they walked to the kitchen.
He paused a moment, taking in the scene of Raoul in a tacky blue and gold chevron sweater, down on his knees trying to pick up pieces of pie off the floor and place them back in the pan.
"You know you can't eat it after it's touched the floor, right?" Erik raised an eyebrow.
"I know," Raoul said bitterly.
Erik stayed in the doorway, not yet entering the kitchen. He knew it came off as aloofness, as being stuck up, but the truth was he was often painfully shy. He didn't want to go in the kitchen yet because he felt unsure of what, exactly he was supposed to do. He certainly wasn't about to help Raoul clean the floor, that was for sure.
"I'm glad you're here, Erik," Nadir stood next to him.
"So I can see what a disaster today will be?" he murmured.
"It doesn't have to be disaster."
"We shall see. The evening is still young."
"You're just afraid of things going right," Nadir protested.
"No, I am simply not naive enough to assume days like this go well."
"Hm, well, we shall see."
Erik narrowed his eyes and looked at his watch. Not even fifteen minutes into Thanksgiving and he was already annoyed. He huffed.
"Erik!" Madame Giry greeted him, her sweater designed like a Christmas tree, complete with little lights. "Just in time - can you come put the star on top the tree? I need someone tall."
"Used for my height," Erik sighed dramatically. "Is that all you people care about?
Giry rolled her eyes.
"Very well - how was your day, Erik? What have you been up to?"
"That tree isn't going to decorate itself, Madame, come along," Erik said after a pause.
"Plug this into the lights up there," Giry motioned to the string of lights adorning the top of the tree and handed him a large, light covered star.
Erik looked at the lights - there were so many of them - and then glanced at the single outlet on the wall. Adapters plugged into adapters had allowed for a great number of wires to all come together. He frowned.
"That's going to short out," he stated.
Giry shook her head.
"It's my house, Erik, I know what it can handle! It's fine, trust me."
Erik shrugged and plugged the star in, settling it atop the tree. Technically, as the receptionist for the the little sound engineering company he had started, she worked for him, but here in her home, she was the boss.
If the woman wanted to burn her own house down, that was her business.
He left her to her task of string garland across every possible surface and attaching it with sticky tape, hoping instead to find Christine. He had a delightful surprise for her.
He paused when he saw Nadir lighting a number of candles on the dining room table.
"I thought you didn't like candles," he said flatly.
"It gives it a holiday feeling, Erik," Nadir explained, shrugging a little.
Erik raised an eyebrow at him before turning away to continue his search. Holiday feeling - he'd have to remember that excuse the next time Nadir tried to chide him about lighting candles in the office - "fire hazard"? No, no, "holiday feeling", and shouldn't every day be a holiday, Nadir? Erik smirked to himself, already picturing how he would win the imaginary argument.
He found Christine in the kitchen again, and, ascertaining which door she'd be coming through when she'd finished washing her hands, prepared her surprise.
Presently she left her work in the kitchen, and smiled brightly when she saw him.
"You're going to love dinner, Erik," she assured him as she cane towards him. "The turkey looks so good this year!"
She was on her way to look at the tree, but Erik stopped her in the doorway with a hand around her arm. She looked up at him with surprise.
"Christine, look-" he said eagerly, pointing to the doorframe just above them. "Mistletoe!"
She smiled as she noticed the little plant sprig hanging above them.
"It's tradition," he reminded her solemnly.
She giggled and placed a hand on his chest.
"Aw, sweetie - you're thinking of Christmas. This is Thanksgiving. You have your holidays a little mixed up," she told him kindly and slipped from his grip on her arm.
She went to living room and he followed her, despairing. How had his foolproof plan been so throughly thwarted?
She admired the decorations in the other room, and Erik found himself agreeing with her about how lovely they were. She was simply too beautiful to do anything but agree with her.
She led him towards the couch where Nadir was sitting. The tv was on, playing softly, and Erik didn't like the look of the grin on Nadir's face.
"Do you want to watch football with me, Erik?" he asked, smiling.
Erik tried to turn around and leave but his way was blocked by Christine, who raised an eyebrow at him.
He sighed and stood by the side of the couch, refusing to sit down.
"Look, who do you hope will win?" Nadir nodded towards the screen.
"I hope they both lose," Erik said, and Nadir only laughed.
"They've both had a really good season," Nadir said. "It'll be interesting to see how it goes."
At that moment Raoul entered the room, and Erik realized Christine had left.
"Is the game on?" Raoul asked as he sat on the couch.
It dawned on Erik - this was that horrible made bonding he had heard about. He didn't want to bond with Nadir, and he certainly didn't want to bond with Raoul.
"I think Christine needs me in the kitchen," Erik said and quickly left.
He breathed a sigh of relief as he escaped, not seeing the disappointment on Nadir's face. Raoul was slightly less sad to see him go, but he had promised Christine he'd be kind to the man and try to make him feel included.
"Can I help?" Erik asked as came to stand awkwardly in the kitchen again.
Christine smiled at him.
"Do you want to take over the potatoes?" she gestured to the large pot in her hands. "They're ready to be mashed."
"Okay."
He took the pot from her, and a large fork.
"You can use the electric mixer," she reminded him as she went to check on the turkey.
"Okay," he said, but continued to use the fork.
She gave his back an odd look before she turned to the oven. She didn't know why, but he often seemed to insist on doing things the most difficult way possible. His hands were going to cramp if he just used the fork, but that was his choice.
She frowned at the dials and buttons on the Giry's oven. They were so different than her own tiny oven in her apartment. Meg had told her the temperature needed to be changed for the turkey towards the end. It wasn't a recipe she was familiar with, either, but she trusted her friend's judgement on turkey cooking.
Right when she thought she'd figured it out, there was a scream from the other room.
"NOOO!" Meg screeched.
Christine fumbled with the buttons, pressing the one she thought would lower the temperature like it needed to be, then bolted from the kitchen, followed closely behind by Erik.
They all gathered in the living room, staring with wide eyes. The Christmas tree was on fire.
Nadir darted for the closet, knowing there was a small fire extinguisher kept there for emergencies. Meg and Christine stared, frozen, as the tinsel melted and the lights popped. Madame Giry fretted over the scene, trying to pull things away from the tree before they caught fire. Erik, after taking one look at what he'd known was going to happen, turned and immediately left. The others surely had it covered, and he gripped his cellphone in his pocket, ready to call for help if they didn't. He made himself scarce, retreating to his previous task. Raoul, meanwhile, jumped forward, grabbing a blanket off a chair and valiantly swinging it around his head before beating it across the flames on the tree.
He was, unfortunately, too strong for such an act - or else the tree too weak to stand up against his onslaught - and the tree fell over on its side, sagging against the wall where the flames crept slowly up towards the wallpaper. He hit it again, frantically, and several ornaments broke under the blows.
"I've got it! Nadir called, running in the room again.
Christine stepped forward and pulled Raoul back from the tree.
"Raoul, please - you're not helping - just go do something else, please," Christine said, exasperated.
Raoul's jaw tightened and he turned to leave, heading for the kitchen. He had only wanted to help.
He sulked his way quietly into the doorway of the kitchen. Erik was there, facing away from him, slowly trying smooth the lumps out of the mashed potatoes with a large fork. He narrowed his eyes at his back. Why the man didn't just use an electric mixer, he'd never understand.
Suddenly an idea occurred to him. He brightened at it, his mood lifting. It was stupid and silly, but it was just he needed to take his mind off of Christine chiding him.
He grabbed the can of whipped cream off the counter and snuck up to Erik, preparing to douse him in fluffy cream.
Erik glanced backwards, turning just slightly, his ice blue eye looking coldly at Raoul. Raoul froze. Erik looked back to the mashed potatoes again, coolly ignoring the man sneaking up on him though he'd clearly seen him. Raoul hesitated a moment, but forged ahead. If Erik thought being caught was going to stop him, he was sorely mistaken.
He bit his tongue, a wicked grin on his face, and placed the can directly behind Erik's neck and pressed down on the nozzle.
Erik's shoulders went up to his ears, his whole body stiffening. He lurched forward, dropping the fork - and the entire bowl of masked potatoes - into the sink.
Raoul's grin disappeared.
"What the devil is wrong with you?" Erik hissed at him, seething. "Why did you do that?"
He was trembling with rage and fear, trying to wipe the cold cream off his neck.
"I'm sorry- I didn't- I thought you saw me-"
He didn't understand. Erik had seen him! How was he so surprised?
Erik raised a hand to his masked side, placing it over his blue eye. He looked away from Raoul, scowling.
"I can't see out of that eye," he admitted, his tone angry and choking back tears.
He hated looking weak in front of the boy. He tried so hard to hide his disability - most days he could. Christine knew, but he had made her promise to keep it a secret.
And now the boy knew too.
Raoul's eyes widened in horror.
"Oh shit - Erik, I'm sorry! I didn't know! I wouldn't have snuck up on you if I- oh, I didn't mean to actually scare you-!"
"Christine's potatoes are ruined," Erik moaned, looking in the sink.
Raoul swallowed nervously.
"All of them?" he asked nervously.
"All," Erik pronounced dramatically.
Raoul wiped at the sweat that was breaking out on his forehead. He should have stayed in the living room - he should have sat in a corner and not done anything- he should have-
"Was it worth it?" Erik eyed him harshly. "Was it worth ruining her meal just so you could- could make fun of the freak?"
A horrified look passed over Raoul's face.
"That's not what I was doing!" he shook his head frantically. "No - it was- it was just a prank!"
"A prank to assert your dominance over the competition?" he sneered, trying to pretend his eyes weren't filling with tears.
"No - when I was a kid, my big brother and I used to prank each other all the time during Thanksgiving," he rubbed at his now watering eyes. "He'd always spray me with the whipped cream. It was funny. And I thought- I thought you-"
Raoul felt at a loss. He hadn't meant to make Christine's teacher cry.
"Well why don't you spray your brother then? Where is he?"
Raoul looked down.
"He died a couple years ago," he muttered. "A boating accident."
Erik's anger ebbed. Maybe this hadn't been the attack he had thought it was. Could it be that the boy truly had been trying to bond with him?
"You can tell Christine I ruined the potatoes," Raoul muttered, shoving his hands in his pockets.
"I was already planning to," Erik shot back, but much of the malice in voice was gone.
"You need a towel or something?" Raoul asked sheepishly.
"I suppose it has become necessary," Erik sighed.
Erik took the towel from him and wiped the rest of the whipped cream away while Raoul stared dolefully down at the blob of mashed potatoes in the sink.
"Potatoes aren't terribly important at Thanksgiving, are they?" Erik asked hopefully.
Raoul leveled a blank look at him.
They stood there, side by side, as they turned on the faucet and watched the potatoes get washed down the drain. They looked solemnly at each other as all of Christine's hard worked disappeared, now festering in a septic tank somewhere. Neither one was eager to tell her what had happened.
They both sulked out of the kitchen, each trying to pretend everything was normal. The rest of the group were trying clean up after the tree, and they began to help, trying to act naturally.
At last the tree was righted and the broken glass was swept away, and the foam was wiped up as best it could be, everyone sighed over what had happened, at how the Christmas cheer was gone.
"Twenty five years," Madame Giry sighed. "Twenty five years it had all lasted, and it picked now to go up in flames."
She shook her head.
"We still have most of it left," Meg tried, picking st the sleeves of her black sweater that was covered in hot pink hearts. "And we can still do our other traditions."
Erik's eyes widened. Traditions. Why did he feel he was about to be roped into something?
They all headed for the living room, sitting down to play board games while they waited for the turkey to finish up. Once the games were set up, Nadir offered to get drinks for everyone. Not wanting to be outdone, Erik offered to help.
As they walked through the door to the kitchen, Nadir chuckled.
"What?" Erik raised a brow.
Nadir merely pointed up, a wry smile on his face. Above them hung the mistletoe that Erik had put there.
Erik scowled up at it, grabbing it and throwing it on the ground, stepping on the offending sprig. He glared at Nadir as though he were challenging him. Nadir shook his head and chuckled again.
In the kitchen, he grabbed the plastic cups while Nadir took the large bottle of ginger ale back with him. They settled in and the games began.
Erik felt an odd mix of annoyed and pleased. He couldn't remember the last time he'd played a game with anyone, and he was overjoyed to sit next to Christine, even if Raoul was sitting on the other side of her. He was annoyed at how much fun he was having. It was only proving Nadir right, and he hated it. If anything helped on this front, it was that the knowledge that the house had almost caught on fire - and that he had been correct about it doing so - was still hanging over everyone like a cloud. The tv played on in the background, a distant hum that was glanced at every now and then.
Two games later, Meg announced that the turkey was surely done. They gathered around the dining room table, excited. Meg and Madame went to the kitchen to bring in the food while the others sat down around the festive table.
"Christine," Erik leaned in, solemn. "I'm afraid I must tell you something about the mashed potatoes."
"Oh?"
"When I was mashing them, I-"
"I knocked them over," Raoul blurred out. "I'm sorry!"
Erik looked up, surprised that the boy had taken the fall. Well. It was his fault, if one wanted to be technical. Erik couldn't help but admire the guts it took to be honest... Or at least, to give the approximation of honesty.
Her face fell.
"Oh," she said softly.
"I'm sorry," Erik echoed.
"It's- it's okay," she shrugged, but she didn't feel okay about it. Still, she didn't want to make either of them feel bad. She did love potatoes.
But they had turkey, cranberry sauce, macaroni and cheese, and two pies. It was still a good Thanksgiving spread, she thought.
Meg returned from the kitchen, ashen-faced.
"Did someone turn off the oven?" she asked, her voice sounding funny.
Those at the table exchanged confused looks.
"The oven was off," Meg continued. "The turkey's been sitting at an unsafe temperature for over two hours now..."
Christine put her hands over her mouth. She must have accidentally turned the oven off when trying to change the temperature.
"I ruined the turkey," she choked out, her eyes watering.
"It'll be okay," Nadir tried to comfort her. "At least we have pie! As long we have pecan pie, everything will be okay."
Raoul hung his head in shame.
"I ruined the pecan pie," he confessed.
"Oh."
Erik leaned in to Nadir.
"I told you it was going to be a disaster," he hissed at him.
Christine overheard, and she pushed her chair back from the table and ran out of the room, sobbing.
Raoul went after her.
"Christine," he caught up with her, hugging her tightly.
"I just wanted things to go right. Was that too much to want?" she cried into her hands as her boyfriend held her. "This was Erik's first Thanksgiving, and he's right - it's a disaster."
"I'm so sorry, Lotte," he murmured against her hair.
He happened to glance up, noticing that Erik was standing just across the way, listening to them. He must have come after Christine, too, in hopes of comforting her.
"I'm sure he knows you tried," Raoul said softly, his grey eyes intent on Erik's strange gaze. "I'm sure he appreciates it, even still."
She shook her head, leaning against his shoulder.
"I wanted him to have a good Thanksgiving," she whispered, sniffling. "I wanted us all to eat turkey and be happy."
"Look, we can still fix this," Raoul tried to sound certain. "We'll figure something out. Let's go back and see what we can do, okay?"
She nodded, wiping at her eyes as Raoul brushed her hair out of her face. When Raoul glanced back up, Erik was gone.
Erik's mind was reeling. All this time he was intent on proving himself right, that Thanksgiving was miserable, and all that time poor Christine was worrying herself over whether or not he would enjoy the day with her. He had to fix this for her.
Back in the other room, Nadir had ushered a crestfallen pair of Girys into the dining room, making them sit and assuring them that he would fix the meal. He returned from the kitchen a few minutes later.
"It's all taken care of," he told them, smiling. "I'm reheating the macaroni and cheese you'd made yesterday. Instead of a side, it can be the whole meal."
They nodded forlornly, not having much else choice.
"You put the macaroni in the microwave?" Meg asked.
"Yeah! It'll be done in a few minutes."
"Did you take the lid off?"
Nadir's smile disappeared.
"What do you mean?"
A loud pop was heard from the kitchen. Upon inspection, the macaroni and cheese had exploded.
All three stared dumbly at the inside of the microwave. The entire contents of the macaroni container now dripped from the walls and the roof of the microwave.
"Nadir!" Erik called sharply from the hall, getting closer.
Nadir jumped. Desperate to not let Erik see what he'd done, that he'd ruined the last of the special meal, he rushed to the doorway, blocking it with his arms.
"Give me your wallet," Erik demanded, holding his hand out expectantly.
Nadir looked puzzled, but complied. It wasn't the first time he'd been robbed by his friend.
Erik took the wallet, pulled out the cash, and handed the wallet back to him. He took out his cellphone and made a call, walking away from Nadir and the scene of the macaroni crime.
A red-eyed Christine eventually came back to the living room where nearly everyone else had begun to congregate. They all sat on the couch, silent, awkward, all donning ugly sweaters as they did every year, but this year there was no dinner. Christine realized with a pang that there was no Erik, either.
"Did Erik leave?" she asked in a small voice.
"He's still here, somewhere," Nadir told her.
She got up to go look for him, and found him in a hallway as he was returning from the front of the house.
"Erik," her voice broke, and before she knew it, she was in his arms.
"It's alright, Christine," he murmured tenderly. "I don't need a turkey today. All I need is you, my dear, that's all."
"I'm sorry your Thanksgiving for ruined," she said, anguished.
"It's not ruined," he assured her. "How could it be ruined, when you're here?"
She sniffed and pulled back just enough to look up at him.
"You said it was a disaster," she reminded him.
He smiled wryly.
"Well, it is. But I'm a disaster and you still love me, right?"
"I do," her gaze softened. "I do love you."
His throat constricted and his heart skipped a beat. In that moment, it didn't matter how she meant it, only that she'd said it, that she felt it. He would take any form of love she saw fit to bestow upon him.
"I am so, so thankful for you, Christine," he whispered, daring to bring a shaking hand up to her hair and run his fingers through her curly locks. "So thankful..."
The doorbell rang, and he smiled widely.
"And I'm also thankful for the local pizzeria delivery," he added.
Her face lit up with hope.
"What? You ordered-?"
He ushered her to the front door with him, and she was shocked to see he had ordered five extra large pizzas. She took some of the boxes while Erik handed the young man a wad of Nadir's cash which covered not only the pizzas but also a hefty tip as well - Erik could be quite generous, when someone else was paying.
Christine was beaming as she brought the pizzas in with him. Everyone was surprised to see the new Thanksgiving dinner. Erik places the boxes at the head of the table, opening them up and placing slices on plates as though he were carving a turkey.
"Vegetarian!" Nadir smiled.
"Pepperoni!" Raoul's eyes lit up.
"Black olives?" Meg leaned forward.
"Ew, gross, who got pineapple?" Christine wrinkled her nose.
Erik gave her a long, blank stare, placing the plate with the pineapple pizza slices in front his own seat at the table. She bit her lip and smiled sheepishly.
"Oops," she said.
But there was plain cheese pizza as well, which her own favorite. Madame Giry was eyeing all of them except for the pineapple.
It was as if all the holiday cheer had come back into the room. They chatted excitedly over their pizza, all of them smiling at last - even Erik.
"Erik," Meg said. "I'm surprised you remembered all our pizza orders!"
Erik looked surprised as well.
"Ha ha, you love us!" she pointed a gleeful finger at him.
He frowned hard, about to deny it, but he couldn't. He did love this little group of people who were the closest thing to family he'd ever had.
"Ha ha, I love pizza," he corrected, shifting nervously. "I can't help but remember a pizza order, it tell so very much about a person, Meg Giry."
He glanced disdainfully at the olive covered pizza.
Christine cleared her throat.
"I just wanted to say, I'm really thankful for my friends. I love all of you so much. This day started out awfully but this - this is good. Thanks, everyone."
She took Raoul's hand and squeezed it, and then, to his surprise, she took Erik's hand and squeezed it too.
"There's nowhere I'd rather be," she said warmly, looking at everyone at the table.
"I'll drink to that!" Nadir lifted his glass of ginger ale.
"Agreed!" Meg said joyfully.
"Indeed!" Madame Giry smiled.
"Me too," Raoul said, and leaned forward just slightly to catch Erik's eye - his good eye - and smile at him.
Erik awkwardly smiled back, and for the first time, Raoul thought he could see the hint of the man that Christine loved so much, and he understood.
"To us," Erik said, raising his glass, then hastily added, lest he appear sentimental- "And to pie!"
Everyone laughed. Their pizza mostly finished except for leftovers, the two remaining pies were brought out from the fridge - pumpkin and buttermilk. They were both delicious. After dinner they sat down to play a few more board games, the holiday cheer still going strong.
As Erik settled into place with the rest of them - one of them, not just an awkward piece who didn't fit - he began to see what Christine had meant. People could be annoying, yes, but he couldn't deny how nice and right it felt to be able to forget himself for a little while and simply be a part of a group.
It had been a miserable, wretched holiday, and even a disaster - but on the whole, Erik thought, it had been a very happy Thanksgiving.