Dear faithfuls:
Yet another long chapter. I shall update, God willing, on Friday of this week. I do so look forward to the first part of April, when life should return to some sort of normal. Again, thank you for sticking with me! As crazy and uncertain as my life has been as of late, it pales in comparison to the wild ride our beloved family of characters has been on, and it doesn't look like it is going to get any less complicated!
XXX
Nicole and John Paul arrived at the tavern. It was bustling from the very outer edge of the courtyard. She smiled at him politely; a quiet dinner was likely not to be had. She was all but certain that their efforts were for naught; so many others having arrived before them. Then, through the crowds, Nicole could see an arm waiving, and recognized it immediately; it was her employer bidding them enter.
"Your table is ready doctor!" The man said, smiling as the swarm of people filling the courtyard parted, making way for the pair. "Come, come," he said, looking over John Paul's shoulder, and then at Nicole. "Where is your mother my dear?" A look of concern coming over him, "she is feeling well no?"
Nicole nodded, "yes, although a bit tired. I'm afraid the warmth of the day has been grueling for her," she replied, blushing from the feel of John Paul's hand on the small of her back as they were escorted to a small table near the fireplace.
The innkeeper nodded to John Paul, "we've been rather busy this evening, but please, do take your time. It will not be long and those that remain will be huddled near the flow of liquor; the dining room will grow quiet. I've no need for you to rush your dinner."
He glanced over his shoulder. A rather loud discussion was developing between a rather inebriated patron and one of those in his employ. He smiled politely, "please excuse me, do enjoy your dinner." He smiled at Nicole. "I will fix you a little something to take to your mother, hmm?" Then he departed.
Nicole smiled at her friend Kathryn who'd come to fill their water glasses. She had a different look about her than before, though Nicole couldn't quite put her finger on it. For an instant she wished she could huddle with her behind the doors just inside the pantry, speaking as they did when they were both working there day and night. They'd shared so many moments of laughter together. It had been a great long while since she'd chatted with another girl her age, and suddenly she realized how she missed those days. Though they'd not been without care and serious toil, there had been something pleasantly constant, methodical even in their rhythm.
Kathryn filled each of their glasses, pausing to look at Nicole. "It is so very nice to see you Nicole, do pay us a visit if you are able." She smiled at Nicole, nodding at the doctor as she went on to the next table to refill glasses that had been emptied.
Nicole smiled, carefully placing the napkin on her lap, glancing at the young woman as she flitted through the dining room, tending to every whim and beckoning of the sea of patrons. It had not been long before that she herself had done the same, six of the seven nights of every week. Now, she'd work a few hours each morning whilst her mother rested, and John Paul visited his patients.
Clearly their income had suffered proportionately, but they'd managed. Each month a sum of francs were mysteriously deposited on account in her name. At first she'd thought it to be a mistake. The banker had assured her, after careful research, the contributions had been made legitimately. However, with the stern stipulation that she never knew who had made them. In the first her pride had made her wish to refuse, but the banker and the doctor, in whom she'd confided, convinced her that to refuse such a gift would be to insult and injure the very spirit of generosity with which the offering had been bestowed upon her family. What had surprised her nearly as much as this most sincere outpouring of empathy, was with what precision the benefactor had calculated how much she had typically earned.
This entire state of affairs had taxed her mind until the note had arrived at her door one morning. It was written in careful verse, indicating that the sum would continue to appear until a month after her mother's passing and that she was to not worry for whom or where it came. The only proviso was that she not share such information with others, rather she was to keep it to herself. She was to continue to live her life as she had, not worrying for what the contributor might think should they see her with a new garment, or she and her mother taking a meal at the tavern. Their singular wish, and her return of gratitude would be shown in her ability to continue to live whilst she did the most noble thing of caring for her mother, as she had her grandmother before her. After coming to terms with accepting such charity, Nicole cried herself to sleep that night. Now, every time she found herself in public, she would glance into the eyes of those she passed, and found herself wondering…was it you? Might it be she? The only thing the banker had assured her was that it had not been, as she was likely to assume, Lady C.
John Paul stared with curious eyes at Nicole, watching her expressions change from the deep thought she was swimming in. She'd become what most would consider distracted these days. He knew in his heart that she was not distracted, but merely intently reflective. It would be those moments she'd wandered in thought, providing her with strength and comfort in the hours of grief that yet lay in the days to come. He'd never once mentioned her occasional departure into her mind, but waited patiently for her to return to the conversation of her own volition.
Nicole blinked her eyes, shaking her head just slightly, looking over at John Paul. He was carefully studying the menu. She lifted hers in hand, pretending to have been studying it too. She knew it by heart, though she feigned indecision. It was June, the most delectable item on the menu would be the either the sea bass, or the asparagus and chicken unusually paired with a béchamel sauce, followed by the berry trifle, or lemon sorbet. Nicole smiled over her menu catching John Paul's eye.
"Nicole, what might you be dining on this evening?" He returned her smile as he lifted his glass of wine to his lips, savoring the taste of the fermented fruits as he rolled the perfectly bodied liquid over his tongue.
"Hmmm…the sea bass is one of my favorite dishes. The lemon and fresh crushed herbs with drawn butter, make it simply heaven." She smiled once more as Kathryn delivered a basket of fresh bread and potted butter to their table. Her hand brushing Nicole's shoulder just slightly as she left the table. Nicole smiled again, it had been their way to indicate she'd something to tell her.
Nicole glanced down as Kathryn's hand left her shoulder, and there she spied, what now she knew was the difference in Kathryn, a ring sparkled on her finger as it slid from her shoulder. Kathryn smiled at her and went about her work at the table next. Nicole wanted to jump to her feet and drag the poor girl to the pantry, demanding to know every detail. But alas, the tavern was full, and she herself was no less occupied. She felt rather guilty for having been so distracted seemingly since they arrived. She'd not been a very pleasant dinner companion.
John Paul saw the look in Nicole's eye. He'd known of Kathryn's most recent engagement, but he'd not the heart to tell Nicole, for this was news one must receive directly from one's friend. He knew it would be hours before Kathryn would be free to converse at any length, but it had been, in part, the precise reason he'd wanted to bring Nicole there that night. It had only been that afternoon that his intension had changed, wanting far more from the evening than when the day first began.
In the next few minutes they'd ordered their dinner, and now their salad lay before them. After saying a prayer, John Paul carefully including a word for her mother, they'd lifted their forks and begun eating.
"It is refreshing is it not?" John Paul said as he lifted another fork of greens and citrus vinegar.
Nicole took a sip from her wine, having herself consumed nearly half of her salad already, "it is a wonder how inspired the chef is during the summer months when nearly everything fresh is available to him." She'd tried to concentrate more fully on John Paul, but she'd found herself wondering who Kathryn's betrothed might be. She'd not had a suitor when last Nicole had spoken to her, so whomever it was, she was certain she shan't know him.
John Paul finished his salad, laying the fork with the tines down on the plate. He'd been carefully studying the tables around him. Soon, they'd be delivered their meals, and there would be a very small window of opportunity where he might unfold part of his plan. He looked over at Nicole, her salad now all but abandoned. He smiled just slightly, "Nicole, would you mind at all if I excused myself for a moment or two?"
Nicole looked up at him, laying her fork down on her plate. "Is something wrong?" She said apologetically biting her lip. She knew she'd not been very attentive, and hoped that he'd not felt slighted.
"Everything is fine my dear. I've just seen a husband of a patient of mine come in the back door. If I might have a word with him now, I could perhaps avert having to make a visit before I retire this evening. I believe she is doing well, but I'd rest much easier if I were certain." It was not a lie, not even slightly. The woman to whom he referred had gashed herself in her garden the day before, and he'd carefully cleaned and mended the wound. If her husband was out for his typical Saturday evening ale, then he knew the woman was feeling better.
Nicole shook her head, "why most certainly John Paul," smiling at him politely.
John Paul rose, laying his napkin on his chair. He touched Nicole's hand. "I shan't be long," he said reassuringly.
Nicole watched as he walked toward the other room, disappearing into the crowd. She sighed. She'd eaten what she could of her salad, and her favorite part, the dressing and the candied nuts, had been plucked carefully from the remaining greens, leaving little interest for her on the plate.
Suddenly, the innkeeper appeared with Kathryn. "Nicole, I hope that you do not mind. Kathryn was resting in the pantry until the next course is ready for delivery. I saw that the doctor had departed, and thought you might like some momentary company." He smiled at Nicole, glancing at Kathryn. He knew they'd but a few moments, but they were necessary for the pair.
As he walked away from the table, he nodded to the doctor who was peering around the wall. It had been done as he requested. Both men cared for Nicole, one as if she were a daughter, the other….as if she were a wife.
Nicole's eyes immediately grew tears, Kathryn putting her hands into Nicole's that she might see the ring. Both girls laughing trying to speak at once.
"Oh do tell Kathryn, how very wonderful for you!" she squeezed her hands tightly, lifting her hand to inspect the ring. "It is so beautiful," she cooed.
"Oh Nicole, I am drifting in the clouds as if on the astral wings of fairies carried up into the starry expanse of heaven!" Kathryn said, smiling so widely she could barely contain herself. "I know we've but a few minutes, so let me be brief."
Nicole squirmed about in her chair, genuinely happy for Kathryn, wanting to know each detail, but with mournful knowledge that their time was short.
"Nicole, he is someone from a city I once lived in when I was younger. My father you see, has kept in touch with his family over the years, and the occasional summer visit and a handful of letters here and there, produced an interest that we'd long shared as children. It seems he told his father that he'd never been able to forget me." She smiled, "and you know fathers! His father mentioned it to my father, and soon they'd visited several times in one month, and I myself paid a visit with my mother to his family." Her eyes were glowing.
"It was on the visit of the week last, nearing its end that my father appeared, quite early I might add, to retrieve us. My heart grieved, thinking we'd be leaving a day sooner than expected. I knew then that I'd become smitten with the young man, as why would one grieve for the absence of a friend in this way?"
Nicole nodded, squeezing Kathryn's hands all the more, hoping that she'd not be beckoned away from the table, or John Paul's return interrupt her story.
"It all seemed as if my father had come so that the families might visit and join in an evening of games. Then curiously I saw several more carriages arrive, more of his family. I thought it rather bold that they'd simply invited themselves to dinner, Charles insisted he'd not known they were coming." She smiled impishly.
Nicole smiled too, "Charles? Is he the handsome one you spoke of from your childhood, the one who freed your kitten from the tree when you were a girl?"
Kathryn was nodding, "yes, it is he." She blushed, her eyes scanning the dining room. They'd not have much longer. "Charles noticed my concern and wandered off with me into the gardens behind his house, assuring me we could have a private evening if we preferred not to join the others." She smiled again.
"Soon we found ourselves wandering down by a small creek at the edge of their property." She glanced up at Nicole, "I think he could be something of an actor, as when we happened upon a picnic basket, he pretended we'd stumbled upon it abandoned. He retrieved a bottle of wine from it, and it wasn't long and we found ourselves dipping our toes in the water, sipping from the glasses he'd found in the basket as well."
Kathryn laughed, "I really was so entirely naïve Nicole! As the sun began to set, he pulled a small box from his pocket." Kathryn began to wiggle. "You see he'd spent a long while speaking of what it was that he wanted from life. It was with absolute cleverness, and a smooth tongue that he elicited from me, what dreams I had of the future. Before I could fully take in the fullness of what was transpiring before me, he was down on one knee asking for my hand in marriage. Without a moment's hesitation, I blurted my reply, and we spent the next blissful hour alone in an embrace at the water's edge. It was then that he made confession that it had all been planned, and that I was not to worry, the fathers had received proper inquiry, acting in part as matchmakers themselves!" Kathryn had become rather animated, her face alight with the glow from the newness of a kindled love.
Kathryn wriggled about, sighing, and smiling. "When we'd returned to the house, arm in arm, we found quite a collection of relatives from both families arrived, a rather elaborate dinner had been prepared. As I sat at the head of the table with Charles that night, I listened as my father and his gave joyful toasts. It was two families, long joined in friendship, now joined forever more by a marriage." Kathryn looked into Nicole's eyes, "I've never been so joyful!"
Nicole rose, all polite manners aside, she embraced Kathryn. "I am exceedingly happy for you!" The pair stood their shedding tears of joy for a brief moment before returning to their chairs.
"So what is to become of you? Will you join him there, or might he be considering joining you here? When are you to marry?"
Kathryn laughed, retrieving a handkerchief from her pocket. "It is all yet to be decided. But the wedding is set for early September." A more serious look crept onto Kathryn's face. "I shan't want for you to miss it Nicole, do say that you will come if you are able."
Nicole smiled at her, smoothing her hand over Kathryn's, "you have my word." She looked up as the innkeeper was making his way back to the table, and closely behind him was John Paul. "It seems our time has come to a close dearest," she said watching as the men grew closer. "I shall try to visit with you in the next week or so if I might find time to steal away. I should very much love to hear every detail!"
Kathryn rose as the innkeeper came to the table, "take care Nicole, I shall look forward to a visit from you."
"And you my dear, and you." She said as they parted hands.
Nicole scampered around collecting salad plates from the guests as the dinners were coming out on large trays. She watched as Kathryn began the task of delivering the meals. Turning to John Paul as he sat in the chair she said, "isn't it wonderful news?" she smiled as Kathryn flitted by, gathering their salad plates.
"News?" John Paul pretended, for Nicole's sake, not to know of such things.
Nicole looked at him rather curiously, "you've not heard? Kathryn is engaged to be married at summer's end!" Nicole said most triumphantly.
"I see, that is what caused the two of you to smile so profusely!" he chuckled slightly, looking down into Nicole's eyes, a certain box nearly burning a hole in his own pocket.
Dinner was delivered, and consumed with quite pleasant conversation. They'd laughed and smiled for nearly an hour, all care of Nicole's present circumstances forgotten. As the dishes of trifle were sat before them, a press of hot coffee at their side, the room had grown precipitously quiet. The innkeeper had been correct in his suppositions. The crowd that lingered, did so primarily near the liquor, thus finally making audible, the music of the single violinist that wandered around hopelessly unable to overcome the din until now.
"What lovely music, the violin." Nicole said watching as the man made his way passed the few couples that remained over their dessert and coffee.
"Yes it is. I understand that this man once studied under Gustav Daae before his untimely passing." John Paul said joining Nicole in watching the man.
"Gustav Daae? The famous Swedish violinist?" Nicole said, her gaze now returning to John Paul.
"Why yes, one in the same. My grandfather oft spoke of the several times he'd opportunity to listen to the man play." John Paul said, suddenly worried his comment would lead to another long conversation….he'd something else on his mind.
Nicole cocked her head, "was it not his own daughter who went missing from the Opera House in Paris, kidnapped by some monster just before her engagement to another was to be announced?"
"I do believe what you say is most true Nicole, the name certainly fits, and grandfather spoke of a young girl who was orphaned when Gustav passed on."
"How very sad. Just when her life was to begin, a chance at happiness, to have been stolen from it, having it ripped from her hands before she even had chance to experience it…the poor man to whom she was betrothed…he must have suffered so."
John Paul looked down, a smile growing on his face. Perhaps the conversation's leadings had not been wasted breath. Indeed, nothing better could have prepared the way for his next words. Life was too short, too unpredictable to leave important things undone.
"Nicole, it is, as you've said, unfortunate indeed. You know well yourself how life can turn and twist in ways that we could never have imagined, removing from our reaches possibilities at happiness." He glanced down, sliding his hand into his pocket.
Nicole looked at him, her eyes suddenly serious and lamenting. He could so easily cut through the mire that surrounded her heart and the thoughts that clouded her mind, with the precision of a surgeon's knife. "It is true, just several months ago I lived in a happy oblivion. Denying what unknown losses were to lay ahead. Now, with my mother ill…." Her voice broke, she could not continue, though she'd force herself not to cry.
John Paul fumbled with the box in one hand before he felt the shank of the ring between his forefinger and thumb. There was no moment quite like the present. The fire was glowing at their side, beautiful music playing on the violin, and her heart open and vulnerable. He looked into her eyes as he took her left hand into his. He exhaled slowly.
"Nicole, I have never been a man of considerable eloquence, nor a man for whom subtle nuances employed, successfully conveyed my true intentions. As such, I must be honest with you."
Nicole's face scowled a bit, whatever did he mean?
"You see Nicole, in these last months I've come to understand what it is my grandfather loved about this City. It is a feeling, an indescribable feeling one gets from simply being here. It is not like the cold callous cosmopolitan cities of which I thought myself so fond. It is warm, comfortable, a perfect place for one to settle and raise a family." He swallowed again, the ring nearly slipping from his fingers as the sweat on his hands grew.
Nicole's heart began to beat harder. This had been the very line of conversation she'd interrupted that afternoon! She simply nodded her head in breathless agreement.
"Nicole, I've not known another like you, in all of my days, quite like you. I've watched as you've buried a grandmother, nursed a mother, and worked as hard as any man setting in order not only your own household, but mine as well. Though you are beautiful and feminine, you are not dainty and frail. You've not known a pampered life."
Nicole looked down, she knew she would not have been considered refined by any standards, and certainly not suitable for a gentleman's wife.
"Nicole it is that quality that I find more pleasing than any other. You are a woman of great will, and great strength." He hesitated, for but a moment, "you are, exactly the woman I imagined that I would one day marry." He glanced into her eyes. In them he saw both terror and happiness. But what he saw most, that gave him final reassurance, was his own reflection, as if he'd already been emblazoned in her soul.
"John Paul, I am not a woman of refinement, I shan't fit into Parisian society, I shan't…"
His hand rose, covering her lips lightly with his finger. "Nicole, whoever said I'd intentions of returning to Paris?"
"But John Paul, your family, your friends…." Nicole said in a near whisper.
"A body must stay where its heart is…." He looked into her eyes as he lifted her chin with his finger, "and my heart is here…with you."
Nicole began to cry. Not a simple tear, but a quiet sob followed by a torrent of long repressed tears.
John Paul rose, embracing her, leading her head to his shoulder, soothing her. "Shhh…shhhh. It will be alright….my love."
The innkeeper peered out of the portal in the door leading to the kitchen. He bid all his employees stay away from that place for a time.
"Nicole, we've both lived on the cusp of a life we were already beginning to live. Outside of visiting my patients, and your work here several morning each week, we spend more time together than most husbands and wives. Save for the fact that when we retire at night we do not share the same bed, we are living as a family, your mother, you, and I. A marriage is forever, and should not be entered into lightly, but I can see in your eye that you share in my feelings."
Nicole began to blush. He'd never misunderstood, not for a moment. How could one think so foolishly to hide such attraction?
"Nicole, the hour for your mother grows late. Though she is able to still move about, and converse with a clear mind, it shan't be so by summer's end. I've no desire, outside of consideration for your mother, to rush you into a marriage if you are not ready." He looked at Nicole, hoping to see no hint of hesitation in her eyes.
Nicole exhaled, her breathing small shallow gasps. "John Paul…."
He released her, sitting her down now on her chair, as he kneeled before her on one knee. "Nicole, when first I came here, I did so reluctantly, and only to fulfill the obligation that I'd made with my grandfather. What I did not expect to find, he had somehow already known. That I would fall in love with this City, but somehow, I think he knew….that I would fall in love…with you."
Nicole's lips trembled, a fresh set of tears rolling down her cheeks.
"If you love me, and I believe in my heart that you do, would you consider Nicole, being my wife?" He exhaled, producing the ring he'd kept concealed until that precise moment.
Nicole was smiling, her heart pounding. She felt a pain inside her, as if the wound of so many years ago…the loss of a promised love…was suddenly being sutured closed forevermore. She had found love again, just as her mother had promised her. This love she could feel…would last a lifetime. "Yes John Paul, I will be your wife."
He carefully slipped the ring on her finger, looking deeply into her eyes as he rose, bringing her closely to him. "Nicole…I love you."
Her heart pounded, a wide smile crossing her face. She'd not even looked at the ring, it mattered little to her. What mattered most was the love she felt in the man's embrace, and the love she'd come to know lived in his heart. "A doctor's wife..." she laughed lightly into his ear.
John Paul scowled playfully, looking down at her. "This amuses you?" He laughed, taking her once more into his arms.
"Not amuses, nothing of the sort." She pushed away the tears from beneath her lower eyelids. "When I was a girl, playing house with my friends…it is rather amusing now, I'd not thought of it for years…I always pretended to be the doctor's wife!"
The pair stood laughing, and holding one another tightly. The terms of a wedding were yet to be discussed, but both knew in their hearts, it would not be a long courtship.
XXXXXXX
DeChagny retired that evening, a perfect dinner finished. He sighed as he closed his eyes. He was tired, very tired. The wine he'd shared with Raoul and Meg at dinner had been the highlight of the evening. He smiled to himself. Raoul thought that his proposal to Meg would have come as a surprise to him, but he'd known, when Raoul had asked, and Meg had agreed to accompany him to Plum house, that it would only be a matter of time.
He'd come to a greater appreciation of his son, and an affection for Meg as well. It had been on his visit before last that he'd made a rather fortunate deposit in the wine cellar; his instincts had been correct. When Madeline appeared that evening with a well-aged bottle of wine, DeChagny explained to Meg and Raoul of its significance. The wine was one of several bottles that he'd managed to save over the years, for a most auspicious occasion. It had been the wine served at he and Raoul's mother's engagement dinner. The announcement of such had brought Meg to tears, and a look of curious awe to Raoul's face. It wasn't often that DeChagny waxed sentimental, so for Raoul it would have been more than a surprise. He smiled again. He'd not told them that he'd a dozen bottles from their wedding safely guarded for Raoul's. Such news would be reserved for a later time.
DeChagny's only regret was that Madame Giry had not been present for the dinner. Yes, he'd felt honored to be the first to know, but a daughter's mother….he only hoped she'd not feel slighted.
DeChagny rolled over staring out the window. It had been years since he'd seen that emerald ring. His wife had taken it off days before she died, and told him that it had been put in safe keeping until Raoul was ready for it. He'd not questioned it though he'd wondered about it from time-to-time. He remembered the day he'd given it to her, her eyes wide and beaming as Meg's were that night. He stared out into the night sky, somehow wishing he could share this with Raoul's mother. He found himself wondering if angels could see their loved ones on earth, and if they could, he prayed she'd have been there with them.
Slowly DeChagny drifted off to sleep. It would be a busy day on the morrow. He'd return to Paris, to see what if any arrangements had been made for Dickens' funeral. He was still tossing about the idea in his mind of offering to travel as Nadir's companion to Chauesser, but likely he'd not be able to with present circumstances. Perhaps he'd plan a trip there himself later in the year, a second expedition of sorts if Nadir returned with anything of interest he could parlay that into a justification. His thoughts faded into the night, finally relinquishing him to the netherworlds of slumber.
XXXXXXX
Raoul and Meg sat out on the veranda, enjoying the refreshing night air. Raoul's hands carefully stroking Meg's, as he held her in his arms. There was a happy settled feeling between them. It had been too long that they'd wondered, too long that others had wondered, and now, they'd removed all doubt. On the morrow they'd accompany his father back to Paris, just for a day, so that they might share their joyous news with Meg's mother.
"Meg my love," Raoul said, Meg turning in his arms to face him, "when we return it is my hope that your mother will forgive us." He looked down into her eyes, they were sparkling as they'd never before, nay, he would say she was glowing. Suddenly her flesh in his hands did not feel so foreign, the touch of his hand on the small of her back not so forward. He'd no longer need to feel any guilt, or worry that he'd scandalized her reputation, or the good name of DeChagny. She was now his fiancé, the woman to whom he'd one day soon pledge his undying love. He closed his eyes, a kiss to Meg's temple, her cheek, and a single tender kiss on her delicate lips.
"Oh Raoul, I doubt that tonight, there is a woman in all of Europe who is as happy as I!" She slid her arms around his waist, nestling her cheek against his chest. She wanted to tell him that he'd removed all doubt for her that he held out any futile hope for Christine's return. She wanted to tell him that she finally knew that he loved her, and that she'd no longer live in Christine's shadow. She wanted him to know that she finally felt loved for her, not as a replacement, a substitute for another. But she would say nothing. This was their moment, one belonging not to memory or ghosts, but to the two living, breathing creatures that stood basking in the soothing glow of a full moon. Love was in the air that night, a seemingly tangible force of nature, filling their hearts, touching their souls.
Raoul held Meg for a long while; passionate kisses reaffirming their attraction for one another in a physical way that they'd long denied themselves in the name of discretion. As the moon glowed high in the sky, Raoul slipped his hand into Meg's escorting her inside. Tonight she'd retire, no longer a chorus girl, but the betrothed of a vicomte, and a hero of Paris. No longer a mere girl, but the bride of the a man long coveted by young debutantes, now respected in his own right for ridding the City of the threat of Crawlings. If ever a wedding were a celebration, this was destined to be one of great proportions.
XXXXXXXXXXX
Erik rose walking over to the window, pushing it open slightly so that he might listen to the soft pattering of the rain. It was a sound that soothed him to his very core. He'd read about this simple thing in hundreds of stories, but he'd been deprived so very long of it, that each time he'd opportunity to listen, he would. It was nature's music. Each drop of rain, falling randomly from the sky, reaching the surface of the earth, on leaf, or rock, or sea, causing a sound as unique as the raindrop itself. Each storm had it's own rhythm; just as each bar of music that he wrote had its distinguishing features.
He closed his eyes, inhaling deeply. The fragrance was a combination of dirt, and grass, and lightly washed flora, a hint of saltiness on the gentle breeze that wafted about, pushing rain sodden leaves this way and that until collected drops weighed heavily enough, causing the stems to give way, releasing the pool to the ground, yet another part of the music. The insects and birds alike used their own voices to sound their reply. It was a marvel to Erik, and he'd enjoy it whenever he could.
He glanced over at Christine. She was fast asleep; once again soothed by Erik's voice as she'd been hundreds, nay thousands of times before. He smiled. Nearly all the things he loved were at his fingertips, and yet something felt missing. Though he wished he could deny it, somehow abandon the calling, it was there. Though he had all he'd most wanted …everything he could have dreamed of and more, it called to him. He pushed the window open even further, extending his head outside until he could hear fully, the lapping of the water as the tide had come in. He loved this music, nature's music, but something ached inside of him perhaps all the more for it. He missed his own music. The creation of it, the inspiration, the release.
Erik sighed. He knew she shan't deny him his solitude should he ask for it, and yet, he'd feel guilty if he were not always at her side, for he'd promised. Now, unless a task was performed for her, such as the building of the outdoor chapel, he felt guilt. His want for solitude so that he might compose, was selfish and he'd simply need to push it from his brain. She'd been his muse, his inspiration. If he were to write music now…it would be different….now that he'd finally belonged to his love.
A splash of water ran over the sill of window, spilling onto Erik's cheek, bringing him back to his senses. He felt guilty once again, pulling the window closed. He moved back to the bed, nestling beneath the covers behind Christine. She'd not moved a fraction. He smoothed his hand over her tummy, whispering that he loved her in her ear. Closing his eyes he said a silent prayer. There was so very much to be thankful for…how could he be wanting for anything more.
XXXXXX
The night quietly gave way to the hours of darkness. The cool freshness of the air was soothing to man and beast. As all lay down for their night's rest, the were far more comfortable than they'd been at mid-day, and sleep came easily for them all.
In the heaven's the stars were sparkling, as if they'd received a polishing from the rains that had fallen. The night was fresh, and full of possibility, and love…..was most definitely in the air.