The next day, Erik had been composing once again while Christine had been off doing something else. Erik had called Christine saying that he needed her help with a melody.

"I'm busy, Dear. Besides, you're the Angel of Music. I'm sure that whatever you come up with will be great," she replied from the other room.

Suddenly, Erik got an idea. He began to sing, "I am your Angel of Music. Come to me, Angel of Music."

Christine entered the room with a sigh. "I'm here."

Erik smiled. "Works every time."

"How can I help you?"

"Come, sit here," Erik said, gesturing to the spot on the bench next to him.

The two composed for hours. Well, technically, they had stopped composing and started kissing somewhere around the third hour. Erik had his wife pinned to the piano bench when suddenly Catherine came rowing up the lake. The couple quickly got up and greeted their daughter. The girl didn't seem to hear them, nor notice what they had been previously doing. Good thing. The parents asked their daughter what was the matter, and once again, received no reply. The girl seemed agitated and was talking to herself.

"Darling?" Erik asked.

"Is he an idiot?" Catherine asked herself.

"Catherine?"

"I mean, why would he want more?"

"Catherine!"

"Two is plenty."

"Catherine Erika Destler!" Erik's voice boomed. He placed both hands on her shoulders and asked more gently, "Dearest, whatever is the matter?"

"Pierre wants more children," Catherine stated as if it were completely obvious.

"And I'm assuming that you don't?"

"No. We already have Victoria and Gabriel. I don't wish for more. The two we have are already more than I can handle."

Christine was about to say something, when Erik gave her a gesture that told her that he had the situation under control. Christine instead sat down and listened.

"I understand not wanting to have more children. I was worried about passing on my deformity and I know that you are too. I think that you'll find that if you just calmly explain why you don't want more children, Pierre will understand," Erik explained. He added with a laugh, "And if he doesn't, I'll Punjab lasso the Don Juan out of him."

Catherine laughed. "Thanks, Papa."

Erik embraced his daughter. "What made you come to us with this problem?"

"Because you understand me. My middle name is Erika for a reason. We're alike, you and I. You can always manage to fix my problems. Without a Punjab lasso."

"Sometimes," Erik winked. "While that is true, you could have gone to Gustave. Why didn't you go to him? You used to always look to him first to fix your problems."

"There are some things in life that a girl needs to go to her father about, not her older brother."

Erik sighed. "If only I knew what it was like to have siblings...or a father, for that matter," he laughed. "You should get back to your husband."

"Okay, Papa. I'll see you tomorrow for dinner," Catherine said as she boarded the rowboat.

"Goodbye, Erika," the father teased.

Erik would call his daughter by her middle name every now and then. It was mainly done as a joke, pointing out that they were very similar.
Erik and Christine watched as their daughter slowly disappeared in the swirling mist upon the vast, glassy lake.

"Now, where were we?" Erik asked, turning to his wife.

"I believe we were doing something like this," she replied, kissing her husband.

At that moment, Apollo entered the room. He took one look at his parents, swiveled on his heel, and swiftly walked back down the hallway exclaiming, "I didn't need to see that!"