"What is it..." she said, sleepily. "Morning already?" She sat up, with her arms bent behind her back, her hair pulled to the side. Raoul stood by the nightstand.
"Yes, dear, it's ten o'clock."
Christine got up out of bed, tied on a robe, slipped on her boots without tying them, and sat down in a chair in the hallway, next to the window. Raoul ran his usual business, getting dressed, combing back his hair, letting the dog out, and much else, making at least ten circles around her. Christine would usually stare outside for a few minutes each morning.
At 10:18 Christine decided to get up and go outside with the dog to water the garden. She was surprised to see a little piece of paper tied with a red ribbon over it. Raoul came rushing outside, picked up the note, and read it. Christine pouted at him for not letting her read it. He skimmed across it, like he didn't want her to know what it said.
He looked at her, and said, "It says they want us at the Opera Populaire, at their New Year's Masquerade. Simple, really." He dropped the note on the front step, and walked back inside. Christine picked up the note and read it. He was right-- a New Year's Masquerade! She was very excited for this event, since she hadn't seen any of Meg, Madame Giry, or any of the others since the little incident with the fire.
She simply had to get her costume ready, it was only in two days!
The next morning, Christine was awake an hour before Raoul, which was unusual, because almost every day of their two-year marriage, he was awake long before her. He awoke frantic, afraid she had been kidnapped in his sleep. He leapt out of bed, ran down the hallway, tripped overthe chair, and stopped himself in the kitchen. Christine was there, the dog not too far behind her. She was wearing a bright yellow knee-length dress without shoes. She seemed to be attempting to cook.
She flipped the pan in her hand, and managed to say "Good morning, Raoul!", before flipping the pan again.
"What are you doing up at..." He checked the clock, "Seven thirty?"
"Making breakfast," she said, "Like other wives do."
"Chris, they make breakfast for their children, and make sure they aren't late to get to the schoolhouse." Christine flipped the pan a little too high this time, and the contents went directly onto Raoul's uncombed hair.
He made an annoyed face, and smeared at his hair. "Christine," he said, obviously frustrated.
Christine made a wide Judy Garland-style face, "Yes, Raoul?"
"You don't..."
"Yes?"
"Flip..."
"Mhm..."
"Eggs."
"Oh..." Christine sighed.
"Chris, why did you even try? Even Erik knows you can't cook"
Christine turned sharply, "What?!"
"I said, even Eris knows you can't cook."
Christine then remembered they named their dog Eris. She turned back around, a bit frazzled, bringing back those haunting memories at the Opera Populaire.
"Chris, I'd like to say something about the masquerade tomorrow."
Christine turned back around. She had aborted the whole Judy Garland approach. "Go on..."
"We're still keeping our marriage a secret, right?" he asked.
"Yeah, I guess so. For all Meg knows, I live with Erik."
The memories of Erik brought chills down Raoul's spine. The trap doors, the water cages, the swordfights, but worst of all, the lasso that nearly killed him.
"Earth to Raoul!" Christine called, "So what's the plan?"
"Plan? Oh, plan! Umm... you come there by yourself, then I'll come over a few minutes later..." he said nervously.
"Deal!" Christine cried, and skipped down the hallway.