8Written for Timebird's 2020 POTO Advent Calendar
This is a sequel to my 2018 Advent Calendar piece, "Evergreen". It is not necessary to read that first, but it might be helpful as there are some references to that here. Regardless, I hope you enjoy and thank you for reading. Reviews are welcomed and very much appreciated.
Christine loved New York at Christmas.
The sights, the sounds, the smells…every moment of strolling through the city streets, block by block, had brought an exhilarating thrill that had been absent from her heart for far too many years. Even hours later, as she stood in the kitchen, elbow deep in pie dough, she had been unable to wipe the smile from her face.
Ms. Fleck had disappeared to somewhere or another at one point, claiming "errands" and leaving Christine to wander lower Manhattan for the better part of an hour. Weighed down by the variety of shopping bags, she had meandered uptown at a leisurely pace, stopping to admire the newly erected Christmas tree in Washington square before making her way up 5th Ave. to Herald Square, where she would find Ms. Fleck and Erik's odd horseless contraption that had initially spirited her to Coney Island.
As she passed the stream of elaborate shops boasting anything any man, woman or children could ever desire, she lingered here and there, casting appreciative eyes to the elaborate window displays attracting crowds along the sidewalk. One particular window snagged her attention: a fanciful tower of toys teetering precariously on top of one another, held aloft in some miraculous defiance of gravity.
Biting back a smile, she stepped away with a silent resolution to return with Gustave. The poor boy would be positively beside himself when he saw the treasure trove in front of her.
She had located her shopping companion only moments later and, with confirmation from both parties that their feet and funds were exhausted, bags and passengers were located into the carriage for the trip home.
At least…she hoped it would become home. Goodness, but it did feel like home; this crazy, complicated family she had formed in a strange netherworld of curiosities. Upon returning to Erik's home, it had been discovered that they had beaten "the boys" back to the residence, so with no tree to decorate, Christine had set her attention to another one of her favorite holiday pastimes.
Now, planted firmly in the large kitchen, covered in flour and holiday cheer, she rolled the stubborn dough into a thin sheet, a pie plate stuffed full of apples set to the side patiently waiting for its cover. Satisfied with her work, her fingers had just curled around the edge of the thin sheet when a commotion drew her attention to the front of the house. Brow furrowed, she wiped her hands on her apron and left the kitchen to investigate.
Ms. Fleck was already present and Christine cast her a questioning look before another shout snapped her eyes to the foyer.
Dr. Gangle stood just inside the door, the sole member of the group lucky enough to claim the prime position out of the cold, although one's definition of luck would depend on one's opinion. The poor man's arms were wrapped around the top of one of the largest evergreen trees she had ever seen, this one seemingly dwarfing the childhood giant she had described to Erik only hours before. No doubt this had been Gustave's doing. As his father before him, her son had a tendency to want to "one-up" anyone or anything that he deemed worthy of bragging rights and she bit back a chuckle despite herself. Maybe it was time her beloved masked enigma had a taste of his own medicine; the fact that it was delivered by his own progeny was turning out to be a delightful twist of Fate.
Shouts echoed from beyond the door, phasing in and out in a cacophony of chaos as the tree twisted and turned in a macabre dance in attempts to be pushed over the threshold.
"Left! Move it to the left!….No, the OTHER left!"
"That IS left! Watch it! You're going to take the paint clean off the frame!"
"Gangle! Squelch! If either one of you idiots scratches the paint, you'll be repairing it yourselves with Ms. Fleck's mascara brush!"
Both women watched in stunned silence at the tenuous exchange before Christine glanced down, brow furrowed and voice weary. "Goodness, but it sounds like they're having some trouble, doesn't it?"
The smaller woman shrugged. "Frankly, I'm impressed that the Master knows what a mascara brush is."
Christine blinked, unable to answer before the tree moved just so, allowing a small blur through the doorway and straight into her skirts. "Maman!" Gustave beamed up at her, thick snow caked in the hair along his brow. "Look at the tree we found! Isn't it wonderful? I think it's even bigger than yours!"
"It is..something!" she exclaimed brightly, hunkering down to look him in the eyes. "What happened, cherie? You look as though you've been caught in a snowstorm."
Gustave pulled off his hat and swiped a carelessly palm over his hairline, sending clumps of snow to the wooden floor. "We had the best time! Dr. Gangle and Mr. Squelch had a hard time cutting down the tree, so Mr. Y stepped in to help them. Well, the three of them began to argue over which way was the best way and while they were yelling at each other, the tree started to creak and then fell- right toward the sleigh!"
Christine gasped, feeling slightly "Oh no…"
"Oh yes!" The boy chattered on, seemingly oblivious to the picture he was painting. "That seemed to get their attention and then they ran toward the sleigh. I didn't get to see much after that because Mr. Y grabbed me, but we ended up in the snow. You should see him, Mama! He looks so funny!"
"Gustave, do you realize any of you could have been hurt or worse?! Mr. Y likely saved your life!"
Gustave rolled his eyes in a fashion so similar to Erik that Christine's breath caught. "Maman, I'm fine. The tree didn't even land anywhere near us." His little brow furrowed as he glanced at the tree in the doorway, a frustrated Dr. Gangle staring at its branches with open disdain. "Do you think we'll be able to get it inside?"
"I..don't know, love. I'm sure Mr. Y and the others are doing everything they can."
More grunts and shouts caused mother and son to glance up and Christine quickly snatched Gustave and stepped back as the tree hurtled forward, succumbing to a final desperate push from Squelch and Gangle. With one hand planted firmly on her son and the other pressed to her chest, she watched wide-eyed as the men muscled the enormous evergreen deeper into the house, and a masked figure stumble in behind them, shutting the door with an echoing bang and slumping against it with a weary sigh.
This man looked nothing like the impeccable figure she had always known. Instead, the man before her was a disheveled mess; wilted against the doorway, chest heaving, hair caked with snow, overcoat askew and one glove and his cravat missing (although really, who wore full evening dress to trek through the woods?).
With a quiet word and a promise to reconvene soon, Christine sent Gustave upstairs with Ms. Fleck to clean up before pasting a sympathetic smile on her lips and moving to his side. "Oh, my poor Erik," she soothed, taking his gloveless hand in hers. "Something tells me today did not go exactly as planned."
He cracked one eye open at the sound of her voice. "Christine…" Even his voice was exhausted. "Never again…"
"But Gustave is happy, Erik. You did well."
"…and nearly killed us both in the process."
"Yes, well, he did mention that," she muttered. "But thankfully no one was killed or maimed and the tree was delivered successfully…"
Both eyes opened to regard her now and she only sighed and smoothed a hand over his snow-wet face. "I am nearly done with an apple pie. I meant it to be a surprise, but given the circumstances…" She chuckled at the faint light that came to his gaze at the mention of his favorite dessert, another newly discovered similarity to their son. "Go and clean up while I finish and then we'll all decorate our new tree together."
This brought another groan as Erik let his head fall back against the door with a thump. "Christine, I have a bountiful staff. This is what they are paid for."
"Not this year." she countered. "Besides, decorating is the most fun of all. I've already laid out the popcorn to be strung and I picked out some lovely ornaments in the City today."
"The City? Christine, you went to Manhattan alone?!"
"Of course not, Erik. Ms. Fleck accompanied me" She squeezed his hand. "Now up you go."
"But Christine!"
She met him eye for eye. "Don't! I am a grown woman. We were perfectly safe. Now go upstairs, change into some fresh clothes and decorate the Christmas tree with your son." Stepping back, she helped him to his feet, smoothing her hands down the sleeves of his overcoat and pressing a kiss to his frozen lips. "I shall join you as soon as I get this pie in the oven."
Nearly an hour later, the pie covered and browning nicely, Christine untied her apron, let down her hair and migrated to the living room where the festivities already appeared to be happening in full swing.
The tree now stood in the place of honor in the front corner of the room, beautifully centered in front of the large bay window, creating a lovely visual for anyone who happened to pass along the street. Dr. Gangle, Squelch and Ms. Fleck had taken up positions nearby, sorting through the packages and parcels from their shopping excursion, taking turns to comment on the contents of each.
Muttering from the back corner turned her attention to Erik and Gustave, both dressed in fresh shirtsleeves, waistcoats and trousers, and seated side-by-side on the couch with a bowl of popcorn between them. Gustave was attempting to teach his father to string the snack food to create a festive garland that would be just perfect. Erik, bless his heart, listened indulgently as he tried to copy Gustave's motions. Unfortunately, while the former Opera Ghost was a master of innumerable things, the muttered curses and muffled cries of pain indicated that the needle was making better progress connecting with skin rather than kernels.
The rustling of skirts announced her presence to the room and Erik immediately set the string and bowl aside as he stood to greet her. "Ah, there you are, Christine. Would you care to ah…take over the garland crafting?"
Biting back a smile at his attempts to cover his inadequate stringing skills, she gave him an impish grin as she drew near. "And deprive you of the experience? I wouldn't dream of it."
"It's all right, Maman," Gustave commented, never taking his eyes from his work. "He's not very good at it."
Erik's gaze snapped to hers as if to say There! You see? but she quickly and quietly tempered it with one of her own. "Not everyone excels at the same things, Gustave. But if there is one thing I know about Mr. Y, it is that he has quite the eye for making beautiful things."
"Except popcorn garland," Gustave supplied.
Erik's expression was positively indignant as she worked to suppress the quirk of her lips. "So it would seem."
"We've got all of the ornaments arranged for you when you're ready, Boss," Squelch announced, waving a hand over the various boxes of colored bulbs laid out beside the tree. "Ms. Christine picked up quite the selection."
"Wonderful. Thank you, all." Erik managed, taking Christine's hand as they approached the tree. "Shall be begin?"
The three glanced between themselves, then back at the Master and his lady. "You want us to help?"
"Of course!" Christine smiled, "besides, none of this would have been possible without you."
No further permission was needed by any of the parties. Gustave, finished with his popcorn garland, wound it around the tree, accepting assistance from Erik and Dr. Gangle at different points depending on height and availability. Christine, Squelch and Ms. Fleck declared themselves in charge of the myriad colors of ornaments and directed where and what were hung until the tree was transformed from a blank green palette to a wonder of color and light.
One of the most important purchases for Christine had been a set of candles for Advent. "This was one of my favorite traditions growing up," she remarked as she struck a match. "With all of the traveling my father and I did, there were many of our traditions that we were forced to forego, but he always made certain we had a set of candles for Advent." With a radiant smile, she lit their first candle, relishing in the pop and crack of the wick catching fire. "This one represents hope."
"The second represents faith," Passing the match to Gustave, she helped him light the second candle before offering it to the masked man standing at her side. Wordlessly, he accepted it, his expression unreadable as he set the match to the wick and the third candle spring to life. "And the third," she supplied, meeting Erik's gaze over the flickering flame, "is for joy." A ghost of a smile crossed his lips then and her heart squeezed a bit tighter in her chest.
"What about the other candles?" Gustave asked.
Christine blew out the match and smiled down at him. "Traditionally, there are four Sundays in Advent and each week one more candle is lit. The fifth is lit on Christmas Eve. We've started a bit late this year, as it's nearly Christmas, but all will be lit as the season progresses."
Gustave studied the candles, then glanced at her "Did mofar teach you any other traditions that we can have here?"
"Oh, cheri, so many! Although, we rarely had the chance to partake in any of them given that we were never in Sweden much after my fifth birthday. The legend of St. Lucia, julbord, julklapper." She brightened. "I may be able to make julmust for Christmas Eve if I can find the proper ingredients. That is, if you don't mind, Erik?"
Slipping an arm around her waist, he remarked. "I want to know everything that is important to you, ange. If it makes you and Gustave happy, then consider it done."
The boy's attention shifted to him then. "What about you, Mr. Y? Did you have any traditions growing up?"
Erik's panicked eyes immediately shot to her and Christine smoothly took control of the conversation. "Gustave, I'm sure Mr. Y knows many of the same holiday traditions that you do."
"But he's never even had a Christmas tree before…"
"And there were many years where I did not either. Like myself, Mr. Y has spent a great deal of his life traveling, haven't you, Erik?"
"I have," the masked man confirmed, but offered no further explanation.
Thankfully, this seemed to satisfy the boy for the moment. "So… we're blending. Maman's traditions with Mr. Y's?"
Christine glanced at Erik, who looked as lost as she felt. "Er…"
"In a sense, I suppose," Erik supplied. "But perhaps it is more accurate to say that we are starting our own traditions. As a.." he trailed off suddenly, his normally stoic face slipping into something akin to sudden wonder.
"As a family?" Gustave ventured.
"Yes, my love," Christine whispered, fingers covertly creeping into Erik's palm as he held her hand like a lifeline. "Exactly that." Drawing him close to her side, she bent down to press a kiss to his cheek. "You've had an exciting day and according to that clock in the hall, it is much past your bedtime. Say goodnight to everyone and I'll be up in a moment."
"Ah, actually, Christine, may I speak with you for a moment?" Erik cut in.
"Come on, little master," Ms. Fleck said with a wink, catching Erik's eye. "If you can get your nightclothes on, I'll read you a story before your mama comes to tuck you in."
Gustave broke into a grin, pecking Christine on the cheek before dashing for the stairs. Christine watched him go with a loving smile before tipping her head back to smile up at the man stationed behind her. "Look at how happy he is, Erik. You gave him one of the best days, despite all of the trials that came with it. That boy worships the ground you walk on."
"I care for him in a way that I never knew I was capable of," he admitted, tucking her hand in his arm and turning to the tree. "I would move heaven and earth for that boy."
"Welcome to parenthood, my love," she whispered.
With a sigh, Erik moved to stand before her, cloaked in the colors cast by the candles flames against the glass ornaments of the tree. "Christine, I admit I've been struggling when it comes to you and Gustave. I am not proud of it, but you must understand that I spent the majority of my life in utter solitude. Even in our…early acquaintance, the very notion that someone would care for me, let alone that I would one day have a son of my own…. was laughable.
"Both of us know how the last chapter of our story ended and quite frankly, as far as I was concerned, that was the end," He shook his head, glancing down to the floor. "But then our paths converged again, ten years later with the knowledge of Gustave…and almost losing you again…it awoke something in me, Christine. Something that made me realize that I never want to feel that way again.
"You, my darling, are the only thing that matters to me. You and Gustave and, if it is agreeable to you, you would make me innumerably happy if you would remain in Coney Island."
Her breath caught as the weight of what he was asking began to sink in. "Erik, are you…?
He gripped her hands tighter, gaze steady, but pleading. "Stay with me, Christine. Be my wife. Let's give Gustave the family we should have been from the beginning."
'Erik…" she whispered, leaning her forehead into his chest as tears flooded her eyes. "Truly?"
In response, he pulled a box from the pocket of his trousers, flipping it open to reveal a diamond solitaire. On one side, a band of gold, warm and radiant, linked a band of silver on the other, cool but elegant, joining in metallic harmony to cradle the diamond that winked up at her.
"Oh, Erik…" she breathed again, "it's stunning"
"I know the tradition is bended knee, but I seem to have had a traumatic incident with a rather aggressive evergreen," he replied dryly, "so I hope you'll forgive…"
"Yes."
He blinked. "I beg your pardon?"
"Yes. I'll marry you. We shall stay." Christine beamed up at him, tears streaming down her cheeks. "With all of my heart, I love you, you stubborn boar. The answer is 'yes'." Curling her fingers around the edges of his waistcoat she pulled him forward in a flash of motion and kissed him thoroughly in front of said evergreen tree.
A chorus of enthusiastic cheers broke the spell a moment later and the couple turned to see Gustave, Ms. Fleck, Dr. Gangle and Squelch positively glowing at them from the stairs. "Way to go, Boss!"
"Yes, well…" Erik sputtered, looking to Christine for assistance. She only chuckled, kissed him deeply again and extended her left hand, to which he responded by obediently sliding the ring on her finger.
Gustave rushed down the stairs to embrace them both, begging to see his mother's ring, then beaming up at Erik as if he had just been handed the world on a plate. "Does this mean I can call you 'Father' now?"
Christine's breath caught as her brown eyes collided with Erik's mismatched ones, which looked slightly watery again. She watched as his throat bobbed, silently struggling for control before managing an answer. "Of course, my boy. You may call me whatever you wish," he said, stooping down to look the boy in the eye. "You are my son and I am sorry if I've done anything to make you feel as though I've held you at arm's length. I..love you, Gustave. I always have."
Christine pressed her hands to her mouth, tears flowing anew as the boy's mouth trembled and he launched himself into the arms of the masked man whom he had come to idolize. Erik caught him, holding him in an awkward embrace as he met Christine's teary smile, unbidden moisture already beginning to track down his visible cheek.
Erik stood, bringing Gustave with him and Christine moved forward to join the embrace. As Erik's free arm came around her and Gustave's little hand held tight to hers, she was sure her heart would burst.
Her father used to say that a broken, battered path often led to the most beautiful destination and as she stood in the embrace of the two men she loved most in the world, bathed in the silver and gold glow of the candles and Christmas lights, she knew that she was finally home.
With a family of her own making.
As it always should have been.
Eyes slipping closed, her fingers languidly trailed up and down Erik's spine and a lazy smile bloomed as the large hand at her waist squeezed her imperceptibly closer.
From this day forward, as it always would be.