"Who's coming over for dinner?" Christine asked while mixing her bowl of ingredients together, her arm stiff after beating the last dish for three long minutes.

"Hmm?" Madame Giry looked up from her cutting board. "Oh. Nadir Kahn."

"Really?" Christine gave a particularly violent turn and flung a small amount of white powder in her face. She sneezed, and grinned at Madame Giry. "He seems rather fond of you."

"He wants to question me, you know how nosy he is." Madame Giry said stiffly, turning back to her cutting. "Once you're finished with that, bring out the dinner plates and set the table."

Normally, after finishing her day at the Opera House, Christine retired to her own comfortable, but small apartment. She would sit back, eat a plain dinner and go to bed, perhaps with some reading in between. On Sundays, however,  There wasn't any practice in the Opera house on the Holy day, except sometimes during the few weeks right before the production. On her free Sunday evenings Christine normally visited the Giry's. They would talk, mend and then cook a dinner together.

Meg bounded down the stairs, her room being the attic, she wore nothing but her sleeping gown and a robe. Her hair was in a braid, frizzing and coming apart. The look was comical, and it made Christine smile. "Mother!" She cried. "Mother there's a man coming, Monsieur Kahn I think. Why-"

"He practically invited himself over, the impertinent man." Madame Giry informed Meg. "Now put on your Sunday dress and-" Meg bounded up the stairs again. "and pull up your hair!" Madame Giry shouted after her.

"Yes mother!" Meg called back down.

Christine chuckled, then carefully began pouring out her batter in a pan on the counter. While watching the goopy substance ooze slowly onto the pan, it occurred to her it would need an hour to cook. "He seems awfully early." She noted. "Dinner won't be ready for hours."

"I told you, he invited himself over, and this is the time he wanted to come." Giry sighed and went back to cutting. Christine nodded and shoved the pan into the stove, checking the fire level as she did so.

A polite knock echoed through the door, Christine brush her hands off on her apron and moved to answer it but before she could Madame Giry brushed by her in her quick steps. Christine shrugged and began to pull out the dishes from the cupboards.

"Monsieur Kahn, welcome." Christine heard from the doorway while she grasped some of the plates.

"Ah! Annottiete, you look lovely." Nadir's warm voice spread through the house.

"Thank you." Madame Giry answered, her voice as rigid as the wood she tread on.

Nadir stepped into the kitchen, fully dressed in a bow tie and suit, with a bottle of what looked like wine under his arm. Madame Giry followed behind him, looking rather embarrassed.

"Dinner is not ready." She informed the Persian.

He smiled gaily and bowed to Christine, then turned back to Madame Giry, green eyes twinkling. "That is quite all right, I'll wait."

Christine felt a smile spreading on her face and walked past them quickly with the plates to hide it. In the dining room she strained her ears to hear the pair in the kitchen.

"Thank you for inviting me over."

"You invited yourself over."

"What nonsense. I offered and you accepted."

"Custom states that the owner of the household invites guests. Not the guests themselves."

Nadir chuckled. "That's why I brought the wine, to make up for my rude behavior. It's some of the best in Paris I assure you, I think we will all greatly enjoy it."

"Meg is not allowed heavy alcohol yet, and Christine does not drink."

"More for the both of us then."

The "humph" that followed made Christine chuckle, she returned to the kitchen to fetch the silverware. Madame Giry was pouring the sliced vegetables into a pot, which was boiling on the stove already. Nadir Kahn leaned casually against the counter, watching her with a fond smile on his face.

The scene made Christine's heart wrench, Nadir often reminded her of her own father. Though Nadir was less scatter brained than the father she remembered from so long ago, the easy laugh and the warm voice was all too familiar to her.

"Excuse me Monsieur Kahn, you are leaning against the silverware." Christine informed him.

"Do you have dinner often here?" He asked, stepping aside and his eyes twinkling at her. She smiled at him, finished counting the spoons, and nodded.

"Every Sunday." She shut the drawer and walked out of the room.

Meg's feet thumped down the stairs, running past Christine with the silverware into the kitchen again, she had her blue dress on with ribbon trim. Christine remembered it had taken her and Madame Giry a month to sew. That had been six months ago, but already her ankles were peeking out from beneath the lining. Christine often remarked Meg grew like a weed.

Meg's hair up in some hairstyle that apparently was taking a turn, Christine could tell that Madame Giry didn't like it, but didn't comment on it either. "Nadir!" Meg cried, delighted by his appearance despite knowing he was coming. "How are you?" She gave a graceful curtsy.

Nadir returned a short bow. "Quite well Margaret."

"Oh, just call Meg. Everyone does, even mother and she's the most proper person I know."

Another snort from Madame Giry.

Dinner was ready in a few hours, candles gracing the table with their soft light, and dinner ready with the dishes steaming slightly.

Christine sat in her seat, apron left it the kitchen, she was wearing her own Sunday best. A green dress with red speckles,  with buttons that matched.

It was getting a little worn, she noticed, she'd had it for years and worn it to every special occasion so far. She would be sad to see it go. She smiled to herself, new dresses where needed on all sides this season.

Madame Giry poured Nadir and herself a glass of the wine, she set the bottle on the table and filled Meg and Christine's cup with some good tea. Once that was done, Giry murmured a prayer and they began to eat.

Meg filled the dinner with pleasant chatter, mostly about the other ballet dancers and what she had read in the newest fashion articles. Christine asked a few questions once in a while, and Nadir showing a surprising amount of interest in the latest hairstyles. Madame Giry sat quietly, focusing solely on her food.

"Did you know that Emily's getting married?" Meg asked Nadir. "Christine just bought the fabric for her dress. She and mother just finished cutting out the fabric, we're going to bast it after dinner."

"Yes I heard about young Emily's good news, Adam, is the name of the fellow she's marrying, correct?" Nadir took a sip from his glass.

"Oh yes." Meg nodded. "Half the girls in the troupe like him, he's very good looking. But he's got eyes only for Emily, he's loved her for years."

"He just got a job down by the docks, managing the loading and unloading of ships." Christine informed Nadir. "He's very excited, it pays mcuh more than being a stage hand does."

Nadir nodded, cutting his food firmly. "I know, he's a good man. And a good match for Emily too, someone grounded and practical for her."

"Oh yes." Meg smiled, pushing her neglected food around her plate. "She's a hopeless romantic, you know those stories Christine used to tell us? Well, when she was little, her favorite one was where a rich man fell in love with a common women, she used to ask for it over and over. She always said she'd marry a prince, or a duke. But-"

"But we are all glad she has become sensible and has settled down." Madame Giry said firmly.

"Yes. You know, my favorite story that she told us was about some boy named Harry something or other, he went to a school for magic." Her lightly freckled nose wrinkled. "I don't think we ever quite finished that one."

Christine focused on her corn bread, carefully lathering butter on.

"Ah, I remember those." Nadir said cheerfully. "I used to listen with those as well, on occasion. Wasn't there one about a small man with a ring? I greatly enjoyed that."

"They're all real books you know." Christine said softly. "I didn't make any of them up."

"Well I can't find that harry book anywhere!" Meg said. "I've looked in a dozen book magazines and all the book shops in Paris. No one seems to know what it is."

"It is an American book, and it was never very popular." Christine lied, and spread honey on her bread. "I don't have my copy anymore."

"Well, you probably told it better than it really was anyway. You're a good story teller Christine." Meg smiled warmly, and popped a spoonful of peas in her mouth. "I tried reading that book you like, Little Women, was it? But it was too long and boring. But when you read it, it's exciting, and I can see it perfectly in my mind." She shrugged.

Christine smiled. "I was an actress for many years." Then she silently scolded herself.

"You were?" Nadir leaned foreword. "Where?"

"In America, for a time. I enjoyed it." Christine smiled, as if embarrassed. "But I don't like talking about it."

Meg leaned foreword, her eyes sparkling with the new piece of information. "Why? Did something terrible happen while you where there? Why didn't you sign up for the chorus or something, I'm sure-"

"Meg. We do not pry into other peoples lives." Madame Giry said sharply. "You would do well to leave it alone."

Meg glanced at her mother and sighed, she looked down at her peas and stuffed a spoonful in her mouth angrily.

Christine looked up to her right, and saw Nadir staring at her. Green eyes narrowing as she met them, Christine felt her stomach twist.

He suspected much, she knew. But this was once part of her life she did not want him prying into. There was only one way to stop him from prying further later, and that was to give him the information he wanted, or at least what he thought he wanted.

"I worked at a small theatre in America, Monsieur." She explained quietly. "I was never a lead, and I was only a side character once. Mostly I was in the background. But-" she grinned. "I do take pride in what I did."

Meg slumped back in disappointment. "I wish you were our lead lady."

Christine shrugged. "Likely, it will never happen."