57

Mrs. Jenkins worked everyone the week before Christmas. She intended to fully enjoy the holiday, from dawn of Christmas Eve, to noon of the day after Christmas. That meant all labor would be completed beforehand.

Carl and Harry sallied forth in their warmest coats to find a worthy tree, Clara began stringing popcorn and tying bows to hang on the branches. Katrina helped her with paper chain garlands, and mended the old plaid tree skirt. Tomino watched from his spot on the rug, before falling asleep.

After that, there was baking and cooking, roasting and garnishing to be done. The simple fare smelled heavenly. Cookies, two pies, a bread pudding, and a cake were done. Two enormous pots of soup were readied, a cauldron of cider, the turkey all but finished, as well as the breads and dried fruit that were arranged for. Clara made a dash into town for cocoa ingredients, tea, and a few odds and ends should a storm brew.

Katrina was set to sweep and beat rugs, as well as to open a few windows at a time to air the place. Mrs. Jenkins was a lover of fresh, brisk breathing room. Katrina told her that it would certainly be that by the time they were done.

After the house had warmed up, Katrina was left to polish the woodwork and furniture while Mrs. Jenkins filled the water buckets. As she worked, Katrina began to sing Joy to the World. It was unbidden, and happy, almost absentminded as she concentrated on her task.

Mrs. Jenkins was standing there, a half empty pail hanging from her grasp as Clara came in. She stopped the girl, telling her listen. They both were frozen still when the men returned. They too were bidden to hear.

The training was there, but the spontaneity lent the rich, heavy voice the added grace. The lightness was childlike, and the laugh as Tomino barked at her broke the spell she had unconsciously woven.

"The tree," Carl muttered, and the men went out to drag it in, forgetting they needed some help around the doors.

Fortunately, Mrs. Jenkins remembered, and bustled about to see that it was put in the sitting room just so, near, but not too near, the fire. Clara brought out the decorations, the tree was trimmed neatly. A lace star was lovingly presented to Mr. Jones, who hung it at the top with ease.

Gifts began to appear beneath the branches, and by teatime, and air of festive satisfaction filled the house.

Clara was just reaching for her warm cup and a slice of cinnamon bread when she stopped and cried, "Oh, I stopped to get the mail! How could I have forgotten?" And she rushed to find it.

For everyone there were letters and parcels. They shared family news with each other, or admired the gifts family had sent.

Katrina read letters from her many family members, even the twins had tried to write a few words or draw their information. Notes from them assured her they had gotten her gifts, and were glad for them.

The bundle from them held handmade clothing, some treats, books, writing paper, and at the bottom was a large, hard object wrapped in brown paper. Katrina opened it to find a manuscript, an only draft of an opera. The letter was in Erik's red ink, and wretched hand.

Katrina,

This Christmas has been harder than expected in your absence. You hid it, but I know you have struggled as well.It was not an easy choice to let you go alone.But the shadows are my home, not yours remember.

The time will come when I write no more, and I am compelled to send you an imperfect, but finished, work. Since you arrived, I have been driven by this, more than by Don Juan.

It is yours and yours alone. Do with it what you know you must.

A very Merry Christmas,

Love from your First Love,

Erik.

Opening the wide covers, Katrina read the title page, also in Erik's writing.

The Ghost

By Erik Lefevre

Dedicated to Katrina Gaston-Lefevre

Page after page, their story, played out in music, ripping, bending, blinding, and healing. The shadows, the blood, the happiness, the fear, it was all there. He had wisely lumped all the aunts and uncles into single characters, but they were there. The Daroga and Darius, her grandparents, her cousins, even Tomino was given a nod.

But at its heart, at the center were The Ghost and The Girl. And the girl released the Ghost, set him free so that he was flying, flying towards heaven. And the Girl stood, watching, seeing as only a child can see.

Katrina began to cry.

"Katrina! Are you alright? Not a will, I hope. Shall I get you some brandy?" Mrs. Jenkins asked. The others were also watching.

She tried to smile and sob at the same instant. "No, no, I am fine. My uncle has only made me very, very happy."