She finally moved away from the window. Having sat there all morning since the sun first peeked through the clusters of clouds that dotted the sky. Her maid had come and gone, depositing a small press of espresso at her side. She'd barely sipped a bit from her demitasse. A shallow dish of peaches lay next to it. She'd toyed with them and the petite gâteau (biscuit), but in the end she'd abandoned them both. Uncharacteristic of her, they were her favorite.
She sighed heavily. Walking away from the window was the hardest thing she did each day. It had become her obsession really, as though her waiting and watching would hasten the arrival of that which she knew forlornly, would likely never come to pass.
She paused, resting her hand along the deep rich wood of her grandfather's piano. He'd been a beautiful musician. Dark and melancholy though his music was, it had been powerful and moving, causing all those who listened to it to be captivated in a reverent hush. He'd been an obscure creature, always hiding in the shadows, a sensitivity to light had been the cause he'd told her. He'd taught her to love music, and to play the instrument she now paid homage to each day. His piano was her sole companion these days, she'd little need for conversation. Her music was her voice. Slowly she walked around to the other side, coming to rest on the tufted seat. She closed her eyes, running her hands along the ivory keys. "Hello my darlings….mommy's home."
Her eyes met with the mirror that lay along the wall opposite where she now sat. She'd done this several times a day for as many years as she'd lived in Chauesser. There was something entirely reassuring about this methodical part of her life. The only thing that had changed in all those years was the reflection in the mirror. Her heart still had a deep sense of loss, of desperate longing, though she'd gradually begun to come to terms with it these last years. It was the only continuity she had left. With the passing of her mother, all her family now gone, she but waited…waited until the day he returned, or she went home to heaven joining those that had gone on before her…if heaven would even have her.
XXXXXXX
The doctor paced back and forth. The man's wife still slept. She'd been up half the night, and he'd administered a final dose of medicine just hours ago. She had to rest. The men that had tarried the night before were even now preparing a sled so as to take the woman's husband on to LeMortem street for proper attention.
He sighed. He himself would be needing to find a sleigh of some sort to return to Raoul's to check on Meg, and to warn Raoul of the dangers he'd heard of from the dying man's own lips. The doctor stretched, turning his head about on his shoulders allowing his neck to flex here and there. It was tight and painful, no doubt a reaction to having slept so awkwardly in the chair. Though he didn't imagine the stress of worry helped matters at all.
He looked up as he heard the stamping of boots in the foyer. "Ready doctor." He nodded. The two retrieved the man's body, carrying it out the door. The doctor watched through the window as they affixed him like cargo on the back of the sleigh. Then the men sat down donning two pairs of snow shoes. The stable had yet to be dug out from behind the house….alas…this is something this man would have tended to had he still been alive. LeMortem street was not far off, the pair would pull the small sleigh their under their own power. They were sturdy and young, the doctor thought. No more of a burden than hauling logs in from the woods. He watched until he saw the sleigh pull up out of the ravine of snow and disappear beyond the crest. Now all he had to do was wait for the woman's sister to arrive, and he himself could be off. Surely a sleigh would be available somewhere in this city! He walked back to his coffee cup. His eyes widened, "yes of course, the Opera House!" Raoul had said his father was there everyday no matter the weather. Surely now that the sun shone, the man would make his way there at some point. The workman no doubt had been stranded by the storm and would even now be making use of this isolation to complete their tasks. The doctor knew Raoul's father well enough to know that he'd not let much happen without his scrutiny and supervision.
Yes, he decided. He could make his way on snow shoe to the Opera House from there, and ride back with his father. Perhaps Raoul would be kind enough to put him up for the evening if it were too late to return to the City.
XXXX
The shopkeeper's brow was beaded with sweat. His entire family, including his youngest daughter had been out helping to clear away snow from the front and back of the mercantile. No doubt the citizen's of Chauesser would be wanting everything they could lay their hands on. Though the storm had been only a few days, and truly none would have run out of the basic necessities, there was nothing like a good storm to send them flocking to the mercantile. For some it was an excuse to get out of doors after being cooped up for so long, for others it provided opportunity to converse about this detail or that of the storm. There was always gossip of some sort or another after a storm, and he knew this one would be no different…it never was.
He was brushing off the final remnants of snow from the front boardwalk when what would be his first customer traveled down the side of the drift rather eagerly. "Did you hear?"
"Bonjour Kevin, what is this you speak of?" he said busily sweeping up the last of the snow.
"The old woman, the man?"
The shop keeper paused, resting his elbow on the handle of the broom, "what man, what old woman?" Gossip was not something he partook of, but he never minded knowing the different versions of the truth that floated about their city.
"Nicole's grandmother…she's dead sir.."
The shopkeeper spun round leaning the broom against the wall. "Dead? And of what man do you speak?" His heart beating quickly thinking it to have been some heinous deed performed by the likes of Sebastian or Pyotr.
"The man, the new man who lives in that house just beyond the city."
His eyes grew wide, "Monsieur Courtland?" Surely he'd not had the blood of that woman on his hands, he'd not seemed the type, though he'd heard rumor that she had been a nuisance to him when he visited the city.
"Yes," said the young man, "he'd come into the city, and he found her." He slid the rest of the way down the side of the hill, now standing in front of the mercantile stomping his boots. The shopkeeper stood looking at him inquisitively. "Monsieur DeLarange had driven his sled out to the man's house looking for her…" he stammered, "let me explain…..the woman had gone missing in the middle of the night as Nicole worked. When her mother awoke the woman was gone, and they'd gone out looking for her. Nicole and DeLarange's daughter are close friends and he'd agreed to drive out to see if she'd tried to make her way out to the man's house. When he arrived the man had insisted he return with him to look for her."
The shopkeeper smiled, he knew his instincts about this man had been right. "And what of Francois, Joseph, and half the men at the inn, could they not have helped?"
The young man looked down at his boots, "I'll get to that part in a moment." His face looked serious. "He went out several times, checking back at the tavern. Finally Nicole and her mother went out looking for the both of them, as the man nor the old woman had returned."
The shopkeeper looked at the young man again. "What man in their right man would have allowed those two women to go out into that storm, did they accompany them?"
The young man looked down shaking his head. "No, I'm afraid not. After they'd been gone an hour they sent out a search party looking for the lot of them. It was feared they'd all be lost to the storm. Eventually they'd returned, the four of them frozen to within an inch of their lives, but still very much alive. The old woman, as I understand it, didn't last many hours. There was something to do with a rather large cut on her side, and broken glass, but I do not know more on that account. The man stood guard at her side until the doctor came to carry her away." The young man's face lit up. "But all of that is not the most intriguing part." He leaned in. "As I understand it he gave the entire inn a verbal lashing regarding honor, and the need of good men in the city, and the like. Some darned fool had suggested he was a hero and he'd nearly sliced him in two with his eyes! He left soon after, but the inn is all abuzz now regarding this new man of mystery in Chauesser, saying he is just the sort of man that this city has been sorely in need of. Though a word of caution, if you do see him, refrain from the use of the word hero, lest you fall to a similar fate as those who are still licking their wounds at the tavern!" The young man being quite pleased with himself, turned and started up the snow once again.
The shopkeeper called after him. "Is there nothing I might do for you Kevin…are you in need of anything?"
He called over his shoulder. "No sir, I just thought you would like to know. No doubt your shop will be swarming with people within the hour, and it shall be a topic of conversation!" He said, waiving as he disappeared over the hill.
The shopkeeper shook his head, smiling. He'd been right about Monsieur Courtland. Something in his gut had told him he'd be an honorable man. His thoughts now traveled to poor Nicole and her mother. When the weather improved he'd send off a package to them. Surely they could benefit in the coming days of some cheering.
XXXXX
He held his niece in one arm, his nephew in the other, rocking back and forth humming to them in a low soothing tone. He'd wanted to spend every minute with them that he could until the weather permitted his travels back to the winter house of Monsieur Courtland.
The doctor was filled with such emotion. To have delivered his own sister's children had been an honor. And now, as he held them in his arms, providing their parents some much needed rest, he could only imagine what it would be like for Elizabeth and Stephan to have a trio of babes to look after.
He smiled as his niece looked up at him. He knew full well that she was merely responding to his voice, not yet being able to focus with her eyes, but still he felt like she was watching him. She was a beautiful baby. The most beautiful he'd ever had the pleasure of bringing into this world. Her brother was fast asleep. He was the older of the siblings by four minutes only. Making his arrival with lungs fully employed from his first breath, he'd needed no encouraging. He was fully a half a kilogram heavier than his sister, no doubt he'd taken the lion's share of the nourishment in the womb. He rocked contentedly back and forth by the warmth of the fire. Everyone in the house was napping except him, and he dared say, they all needed it.
His mind wandered to Stephan. He'd want to have another peek at his cheek soon. He'd intended to deliver the next series of salves to him, to keep the new skin healthy and free from the growths that had claimed it before. He'd felt like such a butcher, carving about on his face while he'd slept. His wife had agreed to it, though he'd not liked doing so without consent from the man himself.
The man was his masterpiece, a tribute to his medical training and all the extra hours he'd spent studying the science of medicine. His classmates had chided him on numerous occasions, that he should spend more time with them than the books he always seemed to carry about beneath his arms. He'd had to admit on more than one occasion that he was a bit of a loner, and preferred a text to any other activity. In the end it had proven to be the wiser of the two choices. He'd have the remainder of his life working with people.
The honor of being a physician came with great responsibility. To do no harm….was to know everything about the shell that housed their spirits. In the end, it had been sacrosanct when he'd taken his Hippocratic oath. Indeed his extra hours spent talking with visiting physicians, reading medical journals from all over the world, and observing surgeries during his free hours, had allowed him to learn what he'd needed to in order to help this man. His hope was that it would improve his life, allow him a sort of normalcy that he'd never known. That was the dream beyond the oath. To first do no harm, and then to do all one can to improve one's quality of life.
The doctor looked down at the children that lay in his arms, now both fast asleep. No doubt Elizabeth would worry, or if not she, then surely Stephan would worry that a similar fate would befall one or more of the children she now carried. It was an odd sort of benefit that the father to those children would have provided an opportunity for the physician to learn how to treat this condition. If it was caught from the first, he'd be able to keep it from disfiguring a young child. Knowing the man as he did now reassured him. If for nothing more than that purpose alone, he'd have agreed willingly to an experiment if it meant being able to spare his children from suffering.
He leaned his head back to rest on the tall back of the chair. As he did he saw that his sister was standing in the shadows of the doorway watching him. He smiled at her.
She began to walk towards him. "Are they both…"
He nodded his head, whispering, "yes, both sleeping."
She stood next to him looking down. "I don't know that I ever thanked you properly."
He turned his head back up towards hers. "You've no need to thank me," he looked down at the twins, and back up at his sister. "Being able to hold this healthy pair of children in my arms, is gratitude enough!"
She smiled putting her hand on his shoulder. "Here, let me take him," she reached down plucking her son from his arms. She carried him off to the bedroom, returning to take her daughter.
Her brother smiled at her, stretching just a bit. His arms had grown rather numb being in a bent position as they were for such an extended time.
It wasn't long before his sister returned, closing the door to the bedroom behind her. She wandered into the kitchen, returning with a snifter of cognac, handing it to her brother. She'd poured herself a cup of tea. She sat down in the chair across from his, rocking by the fire. "It is most pleasant isn't it?"
He nodded, glancing out the window. The sky had grown rather overcast in the last hour, making the glow of the fire more enjoyable still.
"Now do tell me of the young woman you spoke of earlier…the one you said was expecting a trio?"
Her brother smiled at her, "we're not really to speak of one patient to anyone my dear sister, you know that."
She smiled at him. "Yes, yes, I know, and truly I do not know who she is now do I?"
He laughed, "no, that is true." He sighed beginning to rock back and forth. "I worry for her. She'd shared with me on our most recent visit that her own mother did not live long beyond childbirth, a difficult delivery had been the cause. It had been her first, and that was with one child only. Now she carries three, and undoubtedly that increases the chance for an undesired outcome, if not for the children, then certainly the mother. She is young, and she is healthy." He laughed once more, "and she has a hopelessly devoted husband to care for her every need."
His sister smiled at him as she sipped her tea. "Dear brother, if you would desire, at some point in the future, to permit it, I shan't mind talking to her if she wishes for some encouragement. It is a difficult enough thing to carry one child, but two, or yet a third, well, that presents a special struggle. I shan't mind at all conversing with her if she's in need of it."
Her brother smiled at her. This young woman was an inquisitive one indeed, she just might enjoy visiting with his sister, and if she'd permit it and so desired, he'd make the arrangements for it when the weather was more favorable. Yes that made him breathe a bit easier. She no doubt would like that very much.
XXXXX
"Now tilt your head back," Christine said, as she finished gently working the lather through Erik's hair. It was tinged a bit pink, but she'd not ask. There had been a considerable amount of blood in it, though Christine had rather slyly been inspecting his scalp, his ears, his neck as she'd rubbed her hands over them. The blood was not his.
Erik was entirely relaxed, his knees slightly bent as he laid with his head leaned back against Christine's breastbone. She'd nearly lulled him to sleep with her gentle hands as she hummed a tune they both knew well. The room was filled with fragrances, floral notes, those of spice, and vanilla, and yet a hint of musk. It was a heady combination capable of seducing even the most reticent creature into submission. The candles made the bubbles glisten, and the warmth of the water, intermingled with the relief in being in her arms was, for Erik, euphoric.
He'd complied, leaning his head back gazing up into her soft smile as she took a small pitcher pouring water over his hair rinsing it clean. He closed his eyes, not for fear that she'd wet his yet tender eyes, but from the sheer pleasure this simple gesture produced. It was nothing more than a physical act of purpose, but yet it communicated so much to him. She was willing to love him without prejudice, understand his needs without question, comfort him…when he needed it without request.
She finished the last pitcher, taking one of the soft cloths dabbing up the few drops of water that had gone astray. She leaned over as best she could manage, putting a kiss on the top of his forehead. He reached his hand up behind him, placing it behind her neck, rubbing it and her shoulder. Christine closed her eyes, his hand was warm, his touch was gentle yet firm. She ran her hands down either side of his neck, across his chest, and gently began to rub his shoulders. "You are relaxing, that is good."
He smiled, he was more relaxed than he'd even been willing to admit. She continued lightly running her hands along his neck, chest, and shoulders. She felt the grip of his hand slowly relax and eventually his hand about her neck had gone limp. She smiled. She reached up and slowly, gently removed his hand, lifting his arm slowly down and placed it back in the warmth of the water. She leaned her head back into the curve of the rest on the back of the basin. She'd let him soak, warm, if for but a little while. No doubt he was in need of it. She had time to think, he in her arms, she no longer needed to worry about him. He was there, he was with them.
She glanced over at the window that had been so carefully covered by the curtain. She could tell the sun had diminished a bit, but it was still light outside. In truth she had little care as to what time it might be.
She sighed, looking up at the ceiling in the water closet. Erik had spared no detail, not even on this small bit of plaster. He'd infused flecks of gold and silver in this painting, no doubt to take full advantage of the candlelight that he knew she would enjoy when in the bath. It was something that gentlemen often didn't understand about women. But there was so much that Erik understood, it astounded her. It was as if he'd imagined every detail, predicting with astonishing accuracy what she might want or need.
She began to gently run her hand up and down his shoulder, and then his chest. She heard a slight gurgle come from his lung, and then a jerk, as a series of coughs erupted from his chest. Erik, jolted from his contented slumber, sat straight up. The coughing seized him. It sounded so deep, so painful. Christine could do nothing more than rub his back until it subsided.
Erik's eyes were red again, he was wiping at his brow, apologize profusely. Christine had quickly hushed him. The water was cooling, it was time to find their way to something dry and comfortable. She decided, when he fell off to sleep she'd set out for the kitchen to make a poultice …she'd have to ask Madame Giry how to…. She shook her head…she wondered how often she would make that mistake. She'd have to find another remedy, perhaps one of the maids knew of something. There was always the menthol that the doctor had left behind if she could find nothing else. One thing she knew would certainly benefit him, was a bowl of that wonderful chicken stew that Misty had mentioned making for dinner that night. She'd check on that as well when she went downstairs. Her primary concern now was to get him warm and dry. Mother nature would take him into slumber, he was so in need of rest, she'd knew his body would not be able to resist the temptation once properly reclined.
XXXX
Madame Giry stood nervously by the side of the sleigh. She sighed, she knew she had no control over what was happening just a few dozen meters from her. She looked up at the sky. The clouds had begun to blot out some of the sun, a perfect afternoon would soon turn chilly if the sun was once again hidden from view.
Absolutely nothing had remained normal since the day Raoul first arrived at the Opera Populaire. It was not Raoul's doing, it was simply fate in motion, moving people about at will like pawns on a the great chess board of life. When he arrived Christine had become distracted. The other chorus girls, including her own daughter admired him, blushing and whispering whenever he'd be about, which was often enough for Madame Giry's taste. His mere presence had interrupted more than one of her practices.
Erik had become frustrated with his presence as well. He'd usurped Erik's authority in some instance with placement of props on the stage, the handling of certain musical scores and the like. They'd have been at odds from the beginning, even if Christine hadn't factored into the tension. Raoul was kind but firm, preferring to proffer compliance through gentle submission out of respect rather than commandeering it as his father did. He'd not use the good name of DeChagny in such a way, he preferred to earn it.
Madame Giry glanced over toward the opening. It was absolutely silent. She thought back to the first time that Erik had mentioned Raoul's name to her as he'd paid her a visit one night under the cloak of darkness. She recalled his words with great clarity "What are that boy's intentions?" She'd sensed his dislike for him, but it had never been quite so pointed. Erik wasn't accustomed to feeling threatened in what he considered to be his domain. He'd not spoken of him directly to her again, though she saw evidence of his presence on a more frequent basis whenever Christine was concerned. Now he had his Christine, and he shan't have worried, she'd belonged to him all along, and though she'd been distracted, she'd never abandoned him. Now, the very man he'd been so jealous of was sitting with her daughter. Though it was entirely different, she could now more compassionately empathize with what Erik must have been feeling….Raoul was making plans to part her with someone she loved and needed. She leaned against the sleigh. There was nothing to do but wait now.
XXXXX
Meg was shivering though not from the cold, because she'd never felt more warmed through in her life. Raoul seemed to her to be more nervous than she, if that were indeed possible. He took her right hand. Taking turns looking down at her hand that he now caressed and into her eyes. He'd not really known where to begin.
"Meg, my dear Meg," he turned looking her in the eye. Though his voice was uncertain, he was not, he knew what he had to do. His gaze was soft but serious, intent but loving. She blushed so heavily she thought her cheeks were on fire. He reached up running the back of his knuckles along her cheek. She started to protest, but Raoul brushed his finger across her lips. "Meg so very much has happened in our lives these last months. It is difficult to recall some events without drawing a tear. Fate has brought us to this place, and I've no doubt that things are as they should be, though the path to this place has been an uncertain and uneven one at times. I've brought you to this place, as I have something most serious to discuss with you."
Meg felt her heart race as Raoul reached his hand into his pocket, withdrawing a small red velvet box. She closed her eyes quickly, reminding herself to breathe.
"Meg, I know that we've discussed this. That we, you and I, needed more time." His voice quivered. "I've no want to rush you Meg, and I shan't."
Meg nearly stopped breathing, what had he said? She furrowed her brow, her lips began to tremble. "I don't understand."
He took her right hand, and slipped from the bench kneeling before her. "Meg, this is a very special place for me. I've not shared it with more than a few people in this world. That is why I've brought you here today."
She looked at him with such pained eyes. What was he trying to say?
"Meg, I've no want to rush you, but I do want to make quite plain my intentions." He raised the red box looking at it and then at her. "What I have here is dear to my heart, just as you are. It belonged to my grandmother."
Meg felt faint. She didn't know what he intended.
"Meg, I am not asking you make a decision today, and I know it shall be a time before you are ready to do so." He opened the box, retrieving a small band inlaid with emeralds. He took her right hand into his. "Meg, what I do ask of you is to consider in your heart over the coming months if you could one day agree to be my wife. If you are willing to consider this in your heart, would you wear this band, on your right hand, as a symbol of our devoted friendship, no matter the outcome, for the two of us, of the commitment we now share?"
Meg looked at Raoul. She was both relieved and exhilarated all at once. "Raoul, I shan't be able to take this as my own…if our decision is different than what we now expect, I shan't want to deprive your family of something so precious."
Raoul smiled, "Meg, if you should decide in the end, that this was not meant to be, you've but to put it in this red box and return it to me. During the time you are deciding, I wanted you to have something special from me, from my heart, that would remind you of how very much I love you."
Meg looked at Raoul with such pleading eyes. She smiled at him. Raoul's lips no longer trembled. He took the ring, kissing it before he slipped on to the fourth finger of her right hand.
Meg smiled widely. It was a beautiful ring, but even more enamoring was the sentiment. He wanted her to know that he was serious, that he loved her, but….that he was willing to wait for her. She leaned towards him and he rose grasping her in his arms, lifting from her feet.
"Meg my darling Meg," he whispered in her ear as he returned her to her feet.
"Raoul, it is beautiful, no doubt your grandmother loved it so." Raoul's smile tipped just slightly, a melancholy glance that was fleeting. "My grandmother never had opportunity to wear it. She passed on just before her birthday that year. He'd saved it thinking one day he might be able to pass it on to someone. When I was a young man, just out of university, he gave it to me with a solemn promise that I would one day give it to a woman who captured my heart as my grandmother had captured his."
Meg was completely undone. She slipped her arms beneath Raoul's as she leaned in to his chest. Raoul sighed, embracing her protectively. His mother had been right….she was the one.
Author's Notes:
Dear Faithfuls: I am exceedingly happy to be home! Sometimes being away is more painful than one can imagine! This chapter is a bit longer than the rest, but it was needed wouldn't you say! Thank you for being patient with me!
PhantomsRogue: I do rather like the name Phillipe….it sounds sort of snooty and highbrow, something I imagine that would personify this man perfectly! Merci, Merci! Yes, Raoul seemed to be up to something. I hope I am painting an accurate picture of Raoul. He isn't exactly wishy-washy, but he is a bit unpredictable, something no doubt, Erik would find entirely annoying! LOL! But, a personality that will suit Meg quite well. He is a little deeper, and perhaps a bit more sentimental than passionate, if that makes sense. He is deep into heritage, which, could come in handy later……hmmm…the grotto…the heritage….sounds promising doesn't it?
Our dear, dear, Christine and Erik. I do love when they are together, though I don't know if I will ever get more descriptive about their encounters. Some things are far to private.
I confess I've not checked my e-mail, but I will, in the next couple of days, I promise. It is so good to be home….there is nothing like sleeping in your own bed, and waking up and knowing you are safe.
Phantomlover05: I think Meg thinks Raoul is even more handsome now than he was before. No doubt she'll think of him every time she looks at that ring….and I think that is exactly what he wanted. Though he would be out of sight when she was gone, he didn't want to be far from her mind.
Nordygirl: I loved your explanation of your tag name. Nordstroms is a favorite of mine, not only to shop in, but I really like the principals of the company itself…too much to explain here, but I agree it is a great place to shop! Russian? Really? I have a close friend whose father is now retired, but he was a Russian interrogator for the US. Though he cannot tell us much, there was so much about the beauty of the language and the country….
I have to tell you as I read your last review, I was playing the music in my head as I read your poem! It is so cute…it made me smile madly! Thank you, thank you from the bottom of my heart! I am so very happy that I have been able to share this story with others, and that it is something that they find enjoyable!
Phantomfan13: Now we can see what Raoul was up to. He didn't want Meg to be wandering off without knowing how very much he loved her…and without some sort of reminder of how much he wanted her in his life. He's a bit more sentimental than passionate, but he's a good fit, I think, for Meg, as she isn't as intense as Christine is. As far as the questions, yes, you did ask many good ones, but if I answer them, I might spoil the suspense, and I think we all know how much I love it! Yes, I do think that Meg carries a heavy burden, and I cannot promise that this little peaceful bubble she's been in will last forever hmmmm…
Batteredchild: Yes, I was an evil cliffie hanger wasn't I? It wasn't intended, it just ended up that way, honest! It will be interesting if and when Meg and Christine can finally see each other once again, though it might be just a little while yet…I wish I could say more. But I can just imagine what kind of a reunion it will be….so many secrets, so much going on in both of their lives.
Regina Halliwell: Good to hear from you my dear! Yes, our beloved Erik is finally back in Christine's loving arms….sighs dreamily But peace can be a tricky thing…for true peace to exist, there has to be an absence of conflict, and we know that isn't going to happen for this couple any time soon! Do stay in touch!
Tex110: Thank you for the compliment! I do try to have a bit of research added in, just to make it a bit more realistic, but I certainly have taken a few liberties about society, customs, etc., just to add a bit of color to the story! I am glad you are enjoying it! It makes me smile to know others are smiling with me!
Faeriecatcher1: YEAH! You finally caught up to us! I've been waiting to welcome you into the Phamily…and now we can! So, welcome! We hope your stay with our little Phamily will be a long and happy one. Thank you for investing so many hours into reading the story this far. It is no small commitment to read a story of this length! Thank you for your compliments. I do feel very strongly about the bond that Erik and Christine share, it is what they call a GREAT love…I am so very happy that this comes through in the story. It works inside of my brain, I'm not always that certain that it comes out that way on "paper", so thank you. And thank you for joining us on this wild adventure.
Now, as has become our tradition, we must take a guess at your tag name. There are so many adorable movies with fairies….and yet….I wonder, the name catcher. Perhaps it implies that you like to catch, study, and release water sprites, or…that it is something a bit darker, you like to catch and collect them. Hmmmm….it is very likely that neither of the guesses is correct, so please, if you will, do share with us.