Alda, Pertie, Priestess of Anubas, Mbin, Silmarwengreenleaf22, and all of you fab readers, thanks for your continued comments (brownies to all). KayBlueEyes, you're right, Erik would be interested in the Sears tower and of course the former Trade Centers for many reasons. In the last chapter, some of you thought Gabrielle's journal didn't give him much of a reason to be cheerful. It wasn't earth shattering, but heck, having someone care if he's are happy is out of the ordinary for poor Erik. Bubcik you can find the recipes on frenchfood.about dot com. Enjoy!
Re cap: Erik and Gabrielle have Christmas dinner. Erik picks her brain…
Ch-14 de Joyeux Noël part deaux
Dinner was superb; Erik must have been pleased since he took a second helping. We didn't chat much, mostly concentrating on our meal. Casual conversation remained rather stilted since our encounter less than a week ago in the stables.
What did one say to a man 19th century gentleman who'd recently had his hands in your knickers? Pretending as if it hadn't happened was odd, but we were doing our darndest to avoid any romantic insinuations.
My thoughts soon turned to home. I wondered how my Dad and Michael were spending their holiday? Were they at Grandma Thomassen's enjoying a big stuffed turkey with all the trimmings, plus every sort of pie a righteous crust could hold? I could see Aunt Iris bossing the little kids around; making sure that the boys weren't playing with the girl's dolls and the girls weren't fighting with each other. Later, after we all napped off our bloated bellies, my brother Michael, his date-Du-jour, Tony and I plus assorted other friends would take off for a nightspot.
"Gabrielle, would you like more wine?"
"Gabrielle, where have you gone dear?"
I hadn't heard Erik speaking to me. "Wh-what? I'm sorry, I was wondering what my family was doing this year. They had better be missing me. And yes, more wine please."
"You've told me much about the time from which you came, but now that you have lived in the 1800's for a while, what do you find you miss the most, besides your dear ones of course?"
"Who-boy, lots of stuff. I'll try to narrow it down to a few everyday things I miss the most.
The thing I missed at first was air conditioning. I know the principal exists now on a purely theoretical scientific level, but It won't be here for another thirty or forty years. Paris feels like Hades in the summer and wearing these crinoline lined straight jackets is insufferable. I don't know how you stand the heat Erik, unless you go underground like a mole somehow. I had baited him and watched closely for any hint of reaction to my innocent suggestion.
As good as Erik is at holding a poker face he couldn't fool a former reporter. I discerned a faint shoulder twitch before he laughed at me, "Mademoiselle, I am used to the heat as are most people. Modern conveniences have yet to make us spoiled and soft."
"Whatever dude," I teased him dryly, "anyway, what else do I miss?"
There are the movies. Around the holidays every year movie houses release a barrage of new films. My family and friends always pick one to go to Christmas night. In your time you will have silent movies that will blow everybody's mind. Well, movies in my time are monumental; the technology involved in making one is phenomenal. You've seen my laptop computer; well filmmakers use complex computer graphics to design special effects that make you feel as if while watching, you are in the middle of the action. Oh Erik, with your creative mathematical mind, you would love filmmaking!"
Erik sat perfectly still, his head inclined toward me, indicating a deep interest in what I was saying, even if he didn't fully comprehend it all.
"I miss my freedom. I have this wicked-cool car I bought when I got my job at the entertainment show. It's a 350ZX, black. That baby will go over 150mph if I want it to. I remove the roof, crank up the sound system and roll. It's the most exhilarating feeling I know. I can get away and go anytime I want—could that is. That's something I miss terribly.
"It sounds dangerous, 150 mph…I would think a woman would be terrified of piloting such a vehicle." He said.
"Well, my grandma might, but not me."
"Quite the daredevil aren't you Mademoiselle?"
"Yeah, for about a minute before I realize how much fuel I waste driving so fast, that stuff is like gold!"
Erik continued to enjoy his meal while I regaled him with small, salient tales from my missing life.
"I'll tell you what terrifies me the most about being here for an extended time, medical care. There's a significant amount of science your doctors and surgeons do not know yet. Way too many women of your era continue to perish in childbirth. Influenza and fever are still enormous problems. Not that they don't exist in the 21st century, but at least minor ailments and occurrences of nature don't render our society completely helpless. Especially things gynecological."
Erik winced.
"Don't worry, I'll spare your delicate sensibilities at the dinner table Monsieur," I smiled knowing full well a proper Victorian lady would want to keep such things a mystery. Not me, I liked to share my female misery whenever possible.
"You miss them don't you? Gabrielle—Your family that is. If you do not return to the 21st century, what will you do?"
Erik's question caught me by surprise. Sure, I had given it some thought, butI believed I would return.
I put down my fork and stared at my plate, a battalion of tears were on stand-by waiting for marching orders. I swallowed hard and titled my head back to keep them at bay.
"The jury's out on that one Erik. I have considered trying to elbow my way into reviewing one of the many arts for publications. I've actually noticed some bylines from women writers in some of your publications. I know more than most about the artists and composers of today, and I write well in French. It is what I studied when I was here at the Sorbonne for that year."
"So you are a scholar then Mademoiselle? I am impressed. But then you have no current connections here Gabrielle, how would you accomplish such a lofty endeavor – finding occupation as a writer?"
"Contacts I suppose Erik. I'd make up some editorials from reviews of American shows. How would they know? I would send them around, using a man's name of course and see if I could get some bites. You are aware of what's going on in the world of arts and entertainment Erik, even though you don't socialize within it's circles, you could give me the information, you know the 411 I need."
"I would look for work in Paris and England. If I came up empty handed, there's always the great gleaming new world of America."
"Why can't you be satisfied staying here with…?" he stared at me, his eyes displaying displeasure.
"Please don't misunderstand me Erik, I like it here very much. I simply can't sponge off of you forever; besides, I have to do something. Cooking can be enjoyable, but it's not my first love. The arts are my passion Erik."
"I offer you refuge here for as long as you require Gabrielle, you needent leave," his demeanor softened.
A light suddenly sparked in his jade eyes.
"You could help me with my music. I loathe shopping my compositions around to the opera houses, but it has to be done. Management and artistic directors can be so foolish. Dealing with them is torture for me. You are smart, shrewd and pretty. Representing my works could be the perfect occupation for you."
I cocked my head and considered his offer, "I'm bowled over. That's atempting offer Erik. Let's both formulate more ideas on this and talk it over later. Will that please you?"
"Must we wait."?
"Yes, I have something to show you. Let's have sherry in the salon its such an elegant room and it gets so little use."
He raised his eyebrow and began to speak.
I put an index finger to my lips to shush him as I pushed back from the table.
"Come, follow me," I took his hand and led him to the salon at the front of the house. I was shaking with anticipation.
"Pray tell Mademoiselle, what is going on?" Erik asked suspiciously.
We had reached the salon. Erik scanned the room quickly. I had the fireplace blazing warmth into the room. It glowed with two dozen fragrant candles, illuminating the tiny Christmas tree.
"I see."
Ireleased his hand, "Please sit down."
He obeyed my gentle command. I poured two sherries from a crystal decanter and took a place beside him on one of the white Louis XIV velvet settees.
"Why are you shaking Gabrielle? You can't be cold dear, it is quite warm in here…and quite lovely too. I never frequent this room. The house is too big for my taste. It is the seclusion of the location that I require most."
He considered the tree for a moment, "Sad little fellow isn't he. Why didn't you get a larger one?"
"You wouldn't let me, remember Scrooge?" I dared tease. "That's why I hid it in my room and snuck all of this stuff down here while you were in my room fetching my robe." And reading my journal.
A smile touched the corner of his lips.
Erik did not appear angry. That was a good sign.
"I- I hope you aren't upset with me. I needed a little Christmas."
I handed him the gilded package from under the tree.
"Here, it's no biggie, I know you don't like Christmas and all, but I like giving gifts and—well, I don't care if I don't have anything but I thought…"
Erik held up his hand and smiled at me, "You're babbling Gabrielle."
I slapped my hand over my mouth.
"I suppose I am to open this parcel then?"
"That's how we do it in 2005."
I watched anxiously as Erik untied the ribbon and carefully pealed off the tissue, which he then folded into a neat square and laid on the marble table. His eyes widened slightly when he saw the boutique name on the box.
I laughed, "You're more patient than most people I know. Our family just rips everything open in a feeding frenzy Christmas morning."
"How gauche," hereproached.
Erik removed the figurines from the box, turning each one around in his hand for examination before placing them carefully on the table. He stared at the gift with out saying a word.
Oh god, I hope I hadn't made a gross mistake.
"Do you like them?" I whispered.
"This it is a wonderful present. Thank you, Gabrielle," tears formed in his eyes.
"You're welcome Erik," I thought you would enjoy the subtle irony.
"Really? Then which monkey am I Mademoiselle?"
"All of them of course. You do play all the instruments don't you?"
"Naturally. Oh look there is even a conductor," he marveled.
"Ah, now that one's definitely you. He's running the show."
"There's more too, your stocking full of goodies!" I jumped up to get the Christmas stocking from the mantle.
"'What's this?" He asked eying the knit stocking curiously.
"That is a Christmas stocking, see it even has your name on it. There's cool stuff inside too. Check it out."
Erik took the stocking from my hand and held it up as if it were the catach of the day. One slender finger traced the name that I hadembroidered on it."My name," he whipseredin wonder. He then peered inside and then pulled out a few of the brightly wrapped chocolates.
"I guess I should have included a tin of tooth powder as well huh?"
Erik grew solemn. He moved the stocking from his lap and stood to leave.
Oh no, had I made an injudicious error in judgment and insulted him? Erik was so hard to read. I shot the rest of my sherry and poured myself another.
To my immense relief he returned quickly. He was carrying a large item concealed beneath a blanket.
"Gabrielle," Erik began as he stood in front of me, "I know how desperately you miss you family and your former life. I cannot give that back to you, but perhaps I can provide you with the means to enjoy a piece of what was left behind."
He placed the object into my hands. "I know it is not properly wrapped."
I was stunned to find a beautiful Spanish guitar under the blanket. The instrument was made of fine wood and adorned with mother of pearl inlays. Struck with awe, I picked up the guitar and ran my thumb over the strings. Evidently Erik had tuned it because her tone was clear and resonant.
"Erik, I murmured," this is beautiful. You remembered that I used to play." I looked up at him with astonishment. No words seemed adequate for describing my gratitude.
The tears that had been threatening me all night began to escape, and for once I didn't care.
"You must play a tune for me Gabrielle," Erik's voice pulled me from the mist.
"After I practice first. It's been a while since I've been able to play. You and I will have to choose a song. I'll play, you'll sing. That would be tre' cool!"
"Whatever you say dear, but I get to choose the selection. I'll sing none of those songs by people who do nothing but scream like banshees. What did you call them…hair or punk rock musicians?"
I stifled a giggle in an attempt to appear serious, "I promise Erik; no G-N-R, Sex Pistols or Smashing Pumpkins, never ever."
"Are they the one's who sing that ghastly Rat in the Cage song? Even though I can certainly sympathize with the lyrics, I could never do such a thing to my voice, my precious instrument. Perhaps we could learn a selection by those Beatle fellows? They possess simplistic appeal."
"Ha," I burst out laughing and crying in the same instant. I impetuously threw my arms around him in gratitude, "Erik, yours is the most wonderful Christmas gift I've ever received from anyone, ever. I began to cry on his shoulder.
"Here, here now, I didn't mean for you to shed tears, I meant for you to be happy darling." Not sure how to handle an emotional woman, Erik hesitantly placed his arms around me and patted my back.
I pulled away from him and met his gaze. "Oh I am happy. Did you shop for this?"
"Why Gabrielle, you seem shocked. From time to time I do tolerate mixing among the human race when there is something I desire from them," he said darkly.
I took his hands in mine. We both considered each other in silence for a long time before he spoke, "In the stable the other day, I told you that you were amazing. You are, and I'm not merely speaking of your body Gabrielle."
Blushing is not something I am prone to, but I am certain my entire face was as red as Ashley Simpson's at a lip-sync contest.
"Chéri Gabrielle, de Joyeux Noël," he intoned warmly in that smooth melodious French accent."Ditto Monsieur," I flashed him my Shy-Di smile.
We hovered on the precipice of admitting there was something developing between us. My uncertain future, combined with what I knew of Erik's, held us in frustrated reserve.
- 0 -
They're maddening aren't they? Please review. I live for it. - Leesa