Erik's heart pounded. He'd wrestled with his thoughts. It was not possible that anyone had gone in that same way, for he'd seen no evidence of it when he made his way up to the back of the Opera House. No, whomever had been at that door, had been on their way out, and whoever it was, quite obviously did not know the Opera House well enough to know that they could have made their way out the way he'd come in, or…perhaps they in fact did, but his arrival made them retreat. Whatever the case had been, Erik was grateful that there had not been an encounter there. If it was that Crawlings boy attempting to flee the Opera House, then Erik's arrival was already too late, in which case the carnage in the cellars below would be certain.
Erik pressed his eyes closed. He'd no choice now but to wait. He slid down crouching against the wall. He'd wait silently, on the outside, but inside his mind and heart, everything screamed for attention at once, so much so that he could pay no real attention to any of it. He sat in silence, the inhaling and exhaling of his lungs the only thing he focused on, for in that moment, it was all he had control over.
XXX
The man and woman made their way swiftly back to the foyer of the Opera House, nearly tumbling out of the doors. The man quickly closed and latched them behind them. They were both entirely out of breath.
"Let us not speak of this to anyone dear lady, lest they think us to be quite mad." The woman nodded. They stood a moment looking around to be certain their rather abrupt arrival had not been detected. None stirred there, they were safe now to find another exit. Just where that would be, and if they'd have the courage to venture out-of-doors if truly the Phantom was once more at the Opera House, was in question.
The cost would be great if any heard rumor that the Phantom had returned; it could be ruinous for the Opera House. Both were employees, indeed had made their homes there. If a rumor would start it would not be with them. It may have been nothing more than a coincidence, and neither were going to cast their hats into the fire to make the assumption that it was he. Though it did now provide much for them to speak of when they had dinner on Sunday, they'd already decided, a proper discussion of the events would wait until then. The focus now was finding a way to deliver that envelope to LeMortem Street and return alive to tell of it.
XXX
Erik raised his hand to his face. He'd not thought of his flesh in days, but now the thought of being back there once more, made the memories fly past him as though a flood gate had been opened. He ran his fingers carefully along the line where his skin had been pulled and sutured. It was smooth, and he could detect nothing different about it from the other cheek. It had been a miracle of medicine, though it had already, and would continue to take much thought to become comfortable with it.
His mind floated back, far back to when he'd truly realized he was different than all others he saw. He'd always been kept indoors, it was often dark, save a candle or two lit here and there. No mirrors were permitted, in fact he'd never seen one until he'd gone with they gypsies. He'd known no other life. It was one evening after the sun had set that he, and a woman went out for a walk, and he'd seen other children on their way home with their parents. He recalled inquiring where his parents were. Erik squeezed his eyes tightly as the pain of the memory flooded his mind, he hadn't thought of it for years.
"Children like you do not have parents that is why you are with me, and why we venture out only after dark. You have a face that would frighten the world, that is why we stay in. Learn to be your own companion. Learn to love a life spent alone. Hope for no other life, for it shan't be yours."
He recalled with clarity it was a woman's voice who'd spoken to him those horrid words…they had shaped the remainder of his days….hope of no other life…that is all he'd ever done since that very day. Any life was preferable to the one he'd had to live as a recluse, ashamed that he even had breath.
His hand slipped from his face down to his lap. He was certain that it had been sufficient time, he needed to go in…to go back in… The place he'd fled months before, with Christine at his side, willingly sacrificing everything she'd ever known to be with him, to love him as she'd always wanted. Sharply in his mind the words he'd sung to her floated through, "close your eyes let your spirit start to soar, and you'll live as you've never lived before….open up your mind your let your fantasies unwind in this darkness you know you cannot fight, the darkness of the music of the night. Let your mind start to wander to a strange new world, purge all thoughts of the life you knew before, let your soul take you where you want to be….only then can you belong to me." He sighed, she had sacrificed everything to be with him. It proved to be the first pleasant thought that he'd had in over an hour. She had loved him in every way possible, and she would soon bear fruit to that love. He had found love, and for the first time, he did have hope. Hope of a far better life than he might have ever known.
Some of the best things that happened to him were done quite without his permission, and had taken him quite off guard. Such as when he'd first beheld Christine. She was a lovely young girl whose heart was broken in two. He could help her, he knew that he could, because he indeed shared a similar struggle. It was only when he'd been able to provide much needed advice or helped someone in some way that he did not feel a burden, the scourge of society. In those moments he felt alive.
He exhaled, pushing his eyes tightly closed. Erik held his breath for a few seconds his mind making a mental shift. He needed to muster all of his strength, all of his courage. He'd very soon know if her dream had proven to be correct…he prayed it had not.
He inhaled deeply, standing tall, he stretched to his full height, and then a bit more. He felt his hands instinctively rise and grasp the top of his cloak, sliding down into position on the edges of the fabric. He opened his eyes, lowering his gaze. He dug in his left heel into the virgin earth, spinning on it to face the door, his cape flowing around him in a flourish. He was ready. Ready to face whatever it was that he would find in the depths of the Opera House.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Nicole woke, she'd heard whispers, though it must have been her imagination. As she fought her way out of her sleep so felt the space where her mother had lain, it was empty. She was about to call out for her when she heard the voices again. It had not been her imagination It was her mother and the physician. They were speaking, no doubt over by the warmth of the fireplace. Thought they spoke quietly, thinking her to be asleep, she could barely make out their words. At some point she wished she were still asleep for what she heard grieved her soul.
The doctor slid his stethoscope from beneath her nightdress. "I'm afraid that there has been no change. I know you feel better after your rest, but my earlier diagnosis remains Madame."
The woman exhaled. "But I feel the same, though a bit more tired as of late, the same as I have all of my life. How is it that you are so very certain of your prognosis?"
The young man closed his eyes tightly as he put the instrument back into his bag. His youth had made so many question his diagnosis, as if his age somehow made him less capable of finding the truth. "Madame, no man, nor woman, knows the hour of their death, it is in God's hands. What I share with you is based on all I learned in school, that of which I've observed in others. I tell you the truth, the truth as I know it to be. There is always opportunity that I may be wrong, I'll acknowledge that."
The woman inhaled, a hopeful smile crossing her face. He put his hand on her shoulder. "I'm quite sorry, not about the diagnosis, but about the length of time. That is up to God. I can tell you only based on how your heart sounds, and what I have seen. Now if you are diligent, and have half the fight in you that I think you do, it is feasible that you could live a bit longer….however let me emphasize, your heart is weakened, weakened to the point it beats like that of a ninety-year-old woman."
The woman began to sniffle, she wanted so badly to believe she'd be alive well after her daughter married, had children, settled into a married life before she'd be left alone.
The doctor offered, "Nicole still rests, would you like something to rest, I could…"
The woman declined, shaking her head side to side. "No….do tell me…you listened to Nicole's heart…this I am certain was the caused by the fever I'd had as a child….her heart…it is not…"
The woman's ignorance of medicine shown through. How would she have known otherwise? The doctor thought to himself. He soothed her shoulder. "No, one cannot pass this on to another, a mother to child. It is something that attacked your heart when you became ill as a child. It is not something that was part of how you were created. Do not worry, Nicole's heart is fine, at least her physical heart." The doctor and woman both knew what he meant.
The woman looked down fumbling with her hands. "I do worry for her. I no doubt will one day become a burden for her. We've no relatives to go to, she will be quite alone when…"
The doctor interrupted. "I've posed a solution to Nicole, and if she and you are willing, I'd like to be of assistance to the both of you." The woman began to protest, that is not why she'd mentioned it. "No dear lady, let me explain. You see many years ago, before I'd even thought of going to medical school to be a physician, I'd come to Chauesser to pay a visit to my grandfather. I'd in fact thought of becoming an undertaker much to the disappointment of my grandfather; he thought it to be a waste of my intelligence. It was then that he offered the funds for me to go on to be a physician, payment in full he said, if I'd agree to study to be a physician, and make one additional promise."
The woman looked up at him, now quite distracted by his story. "I'd had to promise that the first year that I practiced as a physician would be here, in this city. So you see I shall be here this entire year. Now, the bargain that I've struck with Nicole is that I shall be of help to the both of you, if you'd welcome me into your family in that way, and in exchange, she shall help me to learn of the people of Chauesser so that I might better the handling of their needs. This in fact is what my grandfather had intended to do. I was to practice my first year under his watchful eye, and his sage guidance. So you see, we can all be of assistance to one another." The doctor smiled at the woman, "you see that way we will all be equally indebted to the other, none in the end owing the other."
He hoped as he looked into the woman's searching eyes, that she sensed his sincerity, and that she would feel that this was an equitable bargain. He knew he would bare the greatest of the burden and expense as the medicines the woman would require toward the end were of considerable cost.
The woman thought carefully, then she said, "if Nicole is willing, let it be as you have said." She smiled at him, then glanced over at Nicole. "She is a wonderful young woman doctor. She has been faithfully at my side, at her grandmother's side at great expense to her own future. You see, when her grandmother took ill, and I had to come to care for her, Nicole was very close to being betrothed. I've no doubt that summer that she'd have been given a letter of engagement. He was a fine young man, he came from a respectable family. But, when my husband fell ill, I'd had to send Nicole to be with her grandmother. It was believed, by your grandfather, that she was too ill for us to remove her from this city or his care, so Nicole came to stay with her. My husband's condition did not improve and he passed on. I joined Nicole here in Chauesser, in hopes that I could send her back, but she'd have none of it, she felt she had to stay with me to properly grieve my husband's loss, her father's loss. While she was here she received a letter. The young man had a change of heart after such a long separation, it had been nearly a year by that point. We learned just months later that he'd taken one of Nicole's friends as his wife."
The woman glanced over at Nicole. The doctor was holding his breath, a tear growing in his eye, he tried to stifle it. How could the young woman, a life awaiting her, have sacrificed her own future in such a way? He suddenly was filled with all the more admiration, all the more respect for this woman. She surely understood his ache for a different life, and suddenly he felt all the less sorry for himself. He but missed the larger cities, the many comforts and luxuries that it provided. She had abandoned a life that she would never know, for a commitment to her family. He sighed, the knowledge of it made him all the more determined to help her, help them, for surely, he'd found a woman who knew the truest meaning of the word sacrifice. This is what his grandfather had spoken of, that which he wanted to teach him.
"Do not worry dear lady," he said to the woman, "I shall be here to help her. Perhaps having someone near her own age who has spent much time in the larger cities of Europe, will provide her a window to the outside world, beyond that which she has seen these last years. I should welcome the opportunity to do so if permission is granted me." He stood looking down at the woman. "Rest now, I'll be in to check on you, the both of you in a few hours. Then we'd be seeing to getting some proper nourishment into you."
The woman nodded, a bit more rest would do her good.
"You are certain you'd like nothing to aide you to rest?"
She shook her head, the knowledge that he'd shared with her these last moments had provided enough relief for her. Nicole would not be alone, he would help her, and he'd offered to do so of his own volition. It was not perfect, but it was an arrangement that she knew would provide Nicole with support when she would need it most.
The doctor rose and walked over to Nicole, gazing down upon her. She felt his presence and resisted the urge to hold her breath. She tried to keep her breathing steady and even so as to appear to be sleeping.
He smiled, pulling the covers up under her chin. "Rest dear Nicole, you've a friend in your presence now."
She heard him whisper as he put the pads of his fingers lightly on her cheek, and then departed. Nicole nearly gasped when she heard the door close. Her mother had not moved from the fire, she opened her eyes, raising her head just slightly to look at her. She could see that her mother was praying. She could make out but a few words.
"Thank you, thank you for bringing someone to help her Lord."
Nicole lay back down. She'd accept his offer. Accept it for all of their sakes. They truly were a group who needed one another. Fate indeed, Nicole thought to herself. How could it be anything other?
XXXXX
Christine walked to the room that would be her temporary haven while she waited for Erik to return. She knew not how far she was from the Opera House, but knew that it would be far too dangerous for her to venture out to try to join him, though she'd like nothing more than to be at his side. Even her foolish heart knew that much.
As she lifted the heavy wine-red velvet cover from the door, her breath caught in he chest. The room was alive from the fire. It had warmed nicely, and the glow of the fire revealed yet another secret of the room. The fabrics that adorned the walls had hints of something in them that made them shimmer like they were made of gold. It was as if she'd ventured inside a beautiful dream.
She walked over to the divan, looking down at the rather large bundle of coverings that lay there. She would be comfortable and warm. She glanced over by the fire, there one rather large blanket had been placed in front of it. No doubt Erphan's thoughtfulness. She could cover herself with the warm blanket. She had to admit, that sounded quite splendid just now. She knew she shan't sleep, but she might as well be comfortable as she waited, for there was little else she could do.
On the morrow, when it was light, she wished to spend some time looking at the paintings in the sitting room. No doubt the light of day would allow her to examine them in more detail. For her it was like looking at a storybook of her life, displayed for all the world to see, though they'd not known it was her.
As she slipped beneath the warm cover, pulling several others up over her, she tucked a small folded bundle under her stomach. Something about extra support there made her feel more comfortable as of late. She lay for a long while simply drinking in the beauty of the room, letting her mind imagine all of the brides that had been in that room, being fitted for the dress they would wear to meet their groom. Most would have been elated, floating, bordering on flying. There were no doubt some who were less so, having succumbed to the fate of arranged marriages, though that was less and less common these days.
She let her eyes flutter closed, glancing up at the ceiling, she felt like she was floating off into the heavens. The room was warm, the divan sumptuously comfortable, and the surroundings nearly dream-like. She wandered off to sleep though she'd thought she was unable to. She found herself dreaming. Peaceful dreams invaded her thoughts.
She saw bride after bride in that very room. Gowns so beautiful they nearly took her breath away. Of every fabric and shade one could imagine. She'd seen dozens in her dream. Now she'd entered the room once more, a slender young girl with long brown flowing locks stood on the tall pediment, a fine gown, more beautiful still than all others that had come before. There were several woman, including the one she'd met just this evening fawning over how beautiful it was, and she in it. They admired the tulle, the pearls, the intricate and elaborate lace, the satin…it was indeed a beautiful dress.
"Turn around, let us see the front of it my dear," Christine heard a woman call out. She watched as the bride made the complicated rather intricate steps required to move herself around to face them. A hush fell over the group. Christine's eyes traveled from the bottom of the dress, inch by inch up to the waist which was embellished with a thick crusting of beaded pearls, and interwoven with a golden thread, it was breathtaking. Tendrils of brown hair were visible as her eyes moved up the front of the dress to the shoulders and finally up to the small collar that crowned it. It was delicate though embellished with smaller pearls and more of the golden thread, a beautiful finish to an extraordinary garment. Christine had admired with equal thoughts the veil that covered the bride's face, but now she wished to see the happy face a bride wearing such a fine dress would surely possess. Her eyes wandered up focusing through the sheerness of the veil to the face, and her breath caught in her chest. It was the faceless girl in the portraits. Christine felt herself backing away, though she was not afraid, there was something disturbing about it, and the fact that none of the other women in the room found it at all odd that she'd no facial features.
In her dream she felt herself run her hip into the divan she now slept on. She looked down in her dream, grabbing at the side of it lest she tumble to the ground. When she looked up, the scene had changed entirely. A new dress, and yet another face, and the women surrounding her, everything had changed. There was the dress maker, Madame Giry, and she blinked, was that Raoul's sister? She blinked again, yes it was.
"Oh how lovely, my brother will love this dress my dear, it is simply exquisite, all of society will be truly green with envy."
Christine's eyes quickly flying to the face of the bride, hoping beyond hope she did not see herself. The bride's back was turned, a heavy silken veil obscuring her hair. In her dream Christine felt herself walking around to stand between the bride and the grand ornate mirror she was gazing into. She admired the strikingly different dress, of fine white satin peering through a layer of loosely woven shimmering silvery lace that covered nearly every inch of it. It was very different than the other dress, but equally exquisite in every way. Christine's eyes slowly traveled up the front until she saw the face of the young woman, she was smiling, a faint hint of a red line on her cheek. In her sleep Christine smiled, sighing. It was it should be…it was Meg, and she was simply radiant.
She watched as Meg looked down at her, a tear glimmering in her eye as she reached down taking the hand of the girl that stood in front of her, she heard Meg say, "oh sister, isn't it simply beautiful?"
Christine's breath caught, what had she said? She felt herself backing away from the mirror, looking now at the girl to whom Meg was speaking. All Christine could see was long flowing brown locks of a woman in a rather loose dress, her back turned toward her. She heard the girl respond to Meg, "yes, yes it is, Raoul will indeed be quite taken with it, nearly as much as he is with you!" Christine listened as she heard the two of them laugh, she recognized that laugh. In her mind she was trying to move back toward the pair, when she heard Madame Giry's voice, "now what are the two of you girls laughing about?" The pair turned to face her, "nothing mother," she heard Meg say.
Christine caught her first glimpse of the girl with long dark hair, a rather large poof at the front of her dress, no doubt she was imminently due to deliver. Christine's eyes wandered up to her face, and she shivered in her sleep, it was she! She fought to wake, though neither frightened nor ill at ease, she simply needed out of the dream. But wake she could not. She saw Madame Giry walking toward the pair. Madame Giry took the hand of each girl, taking turns looking back and forth between them.
"I am so very happy, so very happy for the both of you my darling girls. Life has not been easy for any concerned, but look now how fate has delivered to us a happiness that we could never have imagined!" Christine felt herself smiling in her sleep. It was a pleasant dream. She looked once more at the three of them as they stood together. No doubt a set of circumstances such as this could never exist, for what of Raoul's sister?
The young woman was walking towards them. Christine saw herself let go of Madame Giry's hand, extending it to the young woman. They were smiling at one another as Raoul's sister took her hand, and that of Madame Giry's. "It will be so very wonderful to have sisters. When I was a little girl I truly longed for one, and now I shall have two!"
Christine felt herself backing away from the scene, shaking her head in her sleep. No doubt her over active mind had begun swirling associations that never existed, making up a grand dream in order to provide her some temporary comfort. She felt herself pressed against the wall of the dressing room near the door.
She cocked her head, she heard something. Was that men…men laughing? She felt herself pass through the curtain out into the corridor and down the hall toward where she heard the revelry. She turned the corner, there in that room was Raoul, his back turned toward the fire, holding a glass out in front of him, he was flanked on both sides by Nadir, and his father, a fourth figure stood in front of him, the four of them forming a near perfect square. His father was raising a toast.
"I shan't have ever thought it possible, but here we are a family growing, indeed brimming and overflowing. I shan't be a happier man than I am at this moment gentlemen. I raise my glass to you Raoul. May you and your bride-to-be have much deserved happiness." The moment having become more serious than he'd intended, he interjected, "and may you be fruitful and multiply as your brother has!"
The men began to laugh heartily. Nadir reaching out and patting the fourth man on the shoulder. Christine was blinking, shaking her head at her own absurdity. Surely this dream had taken every odd turn imaginable, for Raoul had no brother. It was what happened next that startled Christine to an upright position, panting and wide awake.
She felt Raoul's eyes pass over the shoulder of the man whose back faced her. "Ah Christine, is it as lovely as she deserves?"
Christine's mind was reeling, had he called her by name? Then she felt all eyes upon her, all smiling. The dream began to move at a pace so slow she could hear herself breathing in and out. The man whose back had been turned to her was slowly turning around. She recognized that frame, those motions, those shoulders. Before she knew it, he'd turned to face her, a great smile across his face, Nadir's hand still on his shoulder. Her breath caught in her chest, it was Erik. He was smiling at her, a bit of a blush on his cheeks. She heard him say, "is she not the most radiant woman with child you've ever seen?"
As the dream began to fade from her memory she thought she heard Raoul say, "yes she is my dear…" and then something more she could not make out. Christine was wide awake, panting, shaking her head back and forth. How vivid an imagination she had indeed. Is this what her mind would do to her forever more? Is this how it would try to resolve the pity of not being able to handle all the separations that had to be made in this life so that everyone could be happy, could be safe, could be loved?
It was cruel indeed that she and Meg had need to be separated. She so longed to tell her of her joy. To find how Meg was doing. If she was healing. If she and Raoul grew closer now. She smiled slightly. She had to admit she felt a bit like a little girl having dreamed of gossip, waking in the middle of the night wanting to wake Meg and tell of the dream as they had done to one another so many times in the Opera House. Part of Christine missed that so. Being able to wake knowing that Meg was but a few feet away, that she could reach out and shake the end of her bed to wake her whenever she needed to talk. Right now she missed her so much so that she ached. She'd not been separated from Meg for that long since they'd laid eyes upon one another some years before.
Christine sat up, tugging the warmth of the blankets up under her chin. She was awake and entirely certain she would not again slumber now. The dream and the rest had provided some relief to her, but now she was wide awake, and fully back into the reality of where she was and why she was there.
How she longed to see Meg, for surely she was somewhere within the City, though she hoped beyond hope that she was not at the Opera House as Christine feared. Christine knew not what hour of the day it was, for the room she was in contained nary a window. No way for light of any kind to enter the solitude. Erik had truly created a small surreal haven there. It was a place where one could entirely focus on the purpose for which one was there; blocking out the remainder of the world.
She nestled back down into the thick swaddle of blankets. All was still silent with the exception of the crackling fire. She'd set her mind to examining the ceiling, imagining Erik painting it; bringing life to the cold stone with smears of pigment and talent. She would rise when she heard others stir. For now she would allow her body to rest.
Her hand lovingly ran over her stomach. The lump seeming a bit larger than it had in previous days; she smiled. It was merely the beginning she knew. But each day that passed, the closer she came to placing a son in the loving, eager, arms of her Erik. Her eyes slowly closing. She'd pray. Pray for all of them for there was little else she could do for them now, and she knew, nothing more powerful she herself could do. For the heaven's contained the one being that could intervene.
Author's Notes:
Dear Faithfuls: Have any of you seen the original series of 'Mission Impossible', or perhaps the more recent movie 'Paycheck'? The reason I ask, is because I would like for you to erase all knowledge of the inadvertent "Complicated Dance" box from your memory bank. In my haste to post on Friday night, I left that note box in the chapter, and it was not meant to be there. Suffice it to say, things will have to be changed now so that I do not spoil the coming chapters for the unfortunate few who did find that crazy mistake of mine. My deepest apology!
Captainoblivious: Yes…he's back! Somehow being in those old surroundings pulled him back to the former self…the comfort of a world he'd known for so long!
Hmmm…a former crush? Was it more than a crush? Did they actually date? I am being rather nosy aren't I? LOL! If he did the breaking up, it might be better. If he was the one who was jilted, it might not be so easy for him. Does this girl live near either of you? If not, that might help. As for a romance, I didn't mean anything far too serious my dear. I was simply thinking friends often become the best boyfriends…hmmmm….
Have a happy Monday!
PhantomsRogue: I am going to plea mea culpa regarding the inadvertent text box that I left in the story. I was more than horrified when I started to read the reviews and realized what I had done! Yikes, how very careless of me! Now I shall have to refashion some of the ideas so that I can keep the suspense in proper perspective!
Hmmm…the music box. Something tells me they very likely have a black piano that I could put POTO music in. If not, they should consider it don't you think? LOL! Yes, I have heard Sara Brightman sing, and she does indeed have an exquisite voice. ALW did fall in love with her for that voice as I understand it.
Christmas cards are a difficult one for me. I don't like the generic cards. So usually I buy a lovely blank card, and write personal letters instead. That is about the only time that I sit in front of the fire with a hot pot of tea, looking at the tree, listening to Christmas music. Something about that process makes Christmas complete for me. Though this year I fear that the letters may not be as long. Much of my free time has been devoted to writing this story. I think even my schnauzer feels a bit rejected some nights! I shall have to find a way to strike a balance though. Few, a very few, of my friends know that I am writing this story, and often wonder why I spend so much of my time alone…ahhh…that is what they think…I am not alone at all…quite the contrary! I now spend time with friends from around the world, and with friends from the world of literature….ahhh…what a world I live in! LOL!
That would indeed be terrible if Raoul traveled to the winter house. I think Nadir would hang around his ankles, fake a heart attack, do anything he could to delay Raoul doing that!
Bon Nuit mon aimee!
Poetzproblem: Thank you for understanding my faux pas. I simply could not believe it when I started reading the reviews and realized what I had done. I usually have some sort of a text box of running notes just so that I do not forget things, because what is the point of introducing something into the story and then leaving it hanging in the story? So, yes, I am blushing every shade of crimson as I write. I tried swiftly to remove the chapter and replace it with one without the "bonus" so that future reviewers won't have to stumble around that box. Thank God that the ending wasn't listed there! I'd had to have just rolled over and croaked!
Thank you for the compliment on the Opera House as the safe house. I thought Nadir was rather clever for having suggested it! The poor man would do anything to delay Raoul going to the winter house. Can you just see him fidgeting, getting hot around the collar, sick to his stomach just thinking of it? Somebody get that poor little man an Alka-Seltzer! LOL!
Have a wonderful Monday!
NordyGirl: I do like that song, an excellent choice. I LOVE 'Fiddler on the Roof'. My friends think I'm crazy sometimes, for many reasons, but not the least of which, is that I am always offering what they think are off the wall anecdotes, such as quotes from plays like 'Fiddler' or literature. It's not that I try to drive them nuts you understand, it is simply my sense of humor….thank goodness they love me anyway! The other night I made a comment to one of my male friends and he smiled at me and laughed saying "there you go again, getting all philosophical on me!" I guess that's just me! So, I do like your choices of music….I think of them often!
Fine art as a profession? Are you thinking of creating the art, being a curator, perhaps a purveyor? That would indeed be interesting work…they say the happiest people on this earth are the ones that make a living doing what it is they love….
Have a good night my dear!
Lady Winifred: Yes, the story line has grown now with a few additional complications. Thank you for your review!
Have a lovely evening!
Faeriecatcher1: I like the idea that everyone can make the Phantom whatever age they are comfortable. In my mind he is in his early thirties. Now for some that is too young to be true to the story, and for some that is too old to not seem wrong to be with Christine, so I think that allowing everyone to choose their own age would be wise. After all, Erik really has no idea how old he is, or even what month he was born in! Hmmmm…. Yes, it was common for older men to marry younger women. But it was also not uncommon for that to be a topic of conversation, especially when the woman was younger than twenty. It was almost as if they added that adjective "younger" to the word "wife" to make her seem more like a prize than a person. I think the younger the woman, to a point, the better the man thought he had done. Yikes, and yuck, but that is sort of the way things went back then. Now, for our dear pair though, they loved each other, and age had nothing to do with it at all.
Thank you for the compliment on the seamstress. There were a few parts of the story that I wanted to complete, some things that were questions in my mind. To me that is what makes a story real. I'm glad so many have approved. Other than Madame Giry, there weren't any other role models of love or goodness in his life. Everyone else he'd been associated with, knew his past, could see his deformity. He needed someone who saw his soul. Who had no assumptions or ideas attached to what they thought of him. I am happy that you agree.
Wishing you a most pleasant evening!
Batteredchild: Thank you for understanding the additional characters. To me they felt to be necessary for this part of the story, so as if the plot weren't complicated enough already, add them in I did! LOL! Also, thank you for the compliment on the pictures. We knew that Erik adored her from afar for a great long while. As with anyone with obsessions, he needed to find an outlet. Now if there can be such a thing as a semi-healthy addiction, perhaps this would be it for Erik. He admired her, was obsessed with her, and instead of trying to reach out and frighten her, he released his feelings for her, of the most tender moments he could recall. I loved the way he captured the poignant moments of her life. That meant he was connecting with her on a much deeper level than someone who was just obsessed. He truly cared for her, and what she felt. In a word, he LOVED her.
So, not that it has anything to do with the story, but I am wondering…..how does one celebrate Christmas when it is so very warm? Do you mind sharing a little?
Have a beautiful evening in paradise!
PhantomFan13: I am happy to hear you enjoyed HP…and too much popcorn? Oh well, there could be far worse things in this life! It sounds like you had a very busy, but entirely enjoyable day on Friday. That is good, we all need those from time to time!
I am keenly aware that many people do not appreciate others having their Christmas decorations up so early….but….I must confess…I am one of the crazy ones….mine is already done! I do love this season so very much…and it take so much work to do, that the longer I have them up, the more I can enjoy them!
Thank you for the compliment on the chapter. It was long, and the note box in the middle was a mistake….I hope everyone can forgive and forget!
Have a great night!