Chapter 7

Okay, for any of you that read the previous chapter 7, I apologize. I published the wrong document. It is from the other story. This is what was meant to be posted. I am again so very sorry. Still love you guys! -E.B.

As the days went on, Christine found it easy to settle into her new life. Erik would leave every morning for work at the crack of dawn, and Christine would wake up to a red rose and a love letter written in Erik's beautiful calligraphy. She would teach Gustave his lessons, and Erik would come home for lunch. He decided to start going to work earlier so he could spend time each day with his angels. Most days, he wasn't hungry. Dinner was his meal for the day, and he preferred not to eat much otherwise. He really only ate then for Christine's sake. She worried so if he didn't eat something. Gustave was beginning to pick up Erik's habits. Instead of eating, he would insist on Erik teaching him piano lessons. Erik did this willingly. It filled his heart with an outstanding joy to see his own progeny finding pleasure in the magnificence of music. Christine truly did love to watch them have lessons, but she worried about her boys. Gustave's appetite was becoming less and less, and he was still a growing boy. Erik ran through the park and lifted heavy objects all day. He needed his nutrition. Still, she supposed that music was just as good, if not better, for them.

After dinner, Erik would sit in the floor and play with Gustave for a little while until he had to go to bed. Christine saw Erik in a whole new light. He was a father and a lover. He wasn't the phantom that she had been so terrified of from so long ago. Old habits die hard though. Although, it was easily calmed, Erik still had a terrible temper. He would come in for supper in a rage sometimes. He still had a horrible habit of roaming around with his silent walk. He scared Gustave halfway to death one evening as Erik stepped behind Gustave as he was helping Christine cook, and poor little Gustave almost burned his hand on the stove.

Although their new life had its quirks, it still was so peaceful and simple. Every night, Christine would say a prayer and thank God that she had her Angel back. She slept so much more soundly knowing that it was Erik lying beside her. The nightmares had almost completely disappeared. For the first time since her life at the opera house, Christine felt safe and warm inside. Sometimes it would seem so unreal that she would find herself waking in the middle of the night just to hear Erik's heartbeat next to her ear.

As the next week came around, Christine helped Gustave pack for his stay with Madame Giry. She almost regretted mentioning to Erik that they should take a trip. She was going to miss her son terribly, but she was also looking forward to having Erik to herself again. Just the thought almost made her blush.

Christine walked Gustave to Madame Giry's. Truthfully, Madame Giry loved having Gustave around. It took her mind off of Meg who had shut herself up in her apartment and basically hid herself from the world. He reminded her of how Erik was when he was a young child, yet, he had so many of Christine's lovely attributes. The mix made Gustave his own person. He was a lovely child. She enjoyed playing his many games. He was a sly little fox like Erik. He knew the rules to almost every game in the book, and he would win almost every time. She was going to enjoy his company for the next week while Erik and Christine enjoyed some well-deserved time alone. They needed some time just to be in each other's presence without anyone around to bother them about petty little problems about the park. Erik was always on call for work. If a fly came into the park that had never been there before, Erik knew about it. He truly cared for his park, but he needed some time to relax. He had been stressing himself out over the details lately. He needed to be there for Christine for a while. Surely, Madame Giry could run the park by herself for a week while taking care of Gustave. After all, isn't that what Erik did every day? She turned to Gustave and he was already setting up a game of chess. She smiled at the boy and sat down knowing that she would have to accept defeat sooner or later.

Leaving Gustave left a small hole in Christine's heart. He was all that ran through her mind as she finished packing Erik's things in a bag. They would have to leave first thing in the morning to make the most of their time. Christine had never imagined herself living anywhere but France, but now she was taking a vacation from her new American home to another American town. The thought terrified her and filled her with a sense of adventure. She took a certain pride in knowing that she would be setting out on new roads with her new husband for his very promising career that he loved. It was a life that many people could only dream of. It was a life that she had even dreamed of for many years, and now she was living it. It filled her with a feeling of utter bliss.

She went and set the table so everything would be ready before Erik returned. She waited for him to walk through the door. It seemed like an eternity for him to come home since she didn't have a fidgeting Gustave to take care of. Although, when he walked through the door, it made his arrival all the more special. She jumped off of her seat on the settee and tackled him in an enormous hug.

Erik laughed, "What's gotten into you?"

Christine couldn't help but laugh at herself as well. "I'm just excited for our trip."

Erik had been out doing hard labor for the day. One of his rides broke down, and only he could fix the intricate designs of his handy work. He normally wasn't hungry, but that evening, he was absolutely starved. He saw the spread of French food that Christine had made, and he immediately felt his stomach growl. They sat down and said their prayer, and Erik wolfed his food down like a mad man that had been left in the woods for weeks on end. Christine could hardly eat for watching Erik. She couldn't help but smile at his actions. All table manners had been completely forgotten, and there was a bit of sauce on his upper lip. Christine pulled her napkin up from out of her lap and wiped his face.

"I'm sorry, Angel," he said blushing, "I did not mean to behave like a wild animal."

Christine smiled, "It's quite alright, darling. It's plain to see that you're hungry. I can only imagine that working all day on an empty stomach would make you feel that way."

Erik kissed her and helped her clean up the little home before they had to set out on their journey tomorrow. Once they were done, Erik found it to be almost midnight, and he felt as if all of his energy had been drained out of him. He immediately went to bed. He knew that making a two day drive to Boston would be tiring, and he needed his rest. He was fast asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow. He didn't even stir when Christine slid into the bed beside him which Christine found strange because his acute hearing made him a very light sleeper.

The next morning, Christine put on her red traveling coat and waited for Erik as he loaded the carriage with their bags. He returned to take Christine down stairs. He opened the door to the carriage and helped Christine in. He climbed up in the front to drive the horses. He started to crack the whip, but Christine peaked her head out of the window and yelled for him to stop. She jumped out of the carriage and climbed up in the driver's seat beside him.

"What are you doing?" asked Erik as he pulled his hat over his face to hide his mask.

Christine brushed the dirt off of her dress. "I'm not riding all day in a carriage by myself. I'll get lonely," she replied lovingly as she laced her arm through his.

"You'll catch a cold," said Erik sternly.

"I'll be fine. Don't you worry about me. Let's just go."

Erik knew that there was no point in arguing with her. Once she had made her mind up, there was no stopping her. Although, he still worried about her. Traveling weakened the body especially when traveling out in the humidity all day. Truthfully, he enjoyed having her by his side the entire trip. They made small talk. She wanted to know how running the park had been going and if his workers were doing well. She would nuzzle her head up into the side of his neck and hum sweet lullabies into his ear to the tempo of the patter of the horses' hooves. Wherever they would stop to rest the horses, someone would ask for Christine's autograph. She was so skilled with people. She would make children giggle, women drop their jaw in awe, and men scratch their chin in wonder of her grace. Erik loved to watch her speak to others. Her charm and poise enchanted everyone that she met. From state to state, city to city, she would bring a certain dignity that the American people had never seen. There was no doubt that Christine was not American, but she seemed to belong wherever she went. There wasn't a soul that didn't accept her just the way that she was. This included Erik. He loved her with all of his heart. The more time he spent with her, the more his heart grew fonder of her. He didn't even know loving her even more was even possible.

They arrived in Boston after two days of driving. It was late. The moon was already over the city, and Christine was sleeping with her head rested on his shoulder. He nudged her shoulder and helped her into the lobby of the hotel that they were to stay at. He checked them in and went back to get their bags. He noticed two automobiles puttering down the old stone road. They were once rarely seen, but they were beginning to make more and more of an appearance. Erik had at one time considered buying one, but the price of them continued to drop, and there were rumors about a Mr. Henry Ford mass producing a new and reimagined car called the model T in Detroit. Erik decided that it would be best to wait for the price to fall. After all, Erik was a man of habit, and the more that were made, the cheaper they would become.

When Erik returned upstairs, he found Chrsitine sitting in the large chair by the desk. She was trying to hide her sniffling nose, and she had a light cough. Erik at first pretended not to notice, but her coughing persisted. Erik couldn't let her go through the night sniffling. She wouldn't sleep, and she needed rest.

Erik planted a kiss on top of her head. "I'm going to go out and get you something for your cold." He pulled his cloak around his shoulders and placed his hat on top of his head. Christine started to object to his leaving, but she was cut short by her cough. Erik kissed her goodbye, "I'll be back before you can even miss me," he said lovingly, and he left.

He went two buildings down to a little bar on the corner of the street. Erik sat on a stool in the dark corner with his face downcast. The bartender came over to take his order.

"Can I possibly just take a bottle of cognac off of your hands? I'll pay you handsomely for it. My wife and I have been traveling all day, and she's back at the hotel with a terrible cold."

The bartender smiled. "It's nice to see a man come into a bar to take care of somebody other than himself. Most men that come at this time of night just come to drown their sorrows. Your wife is a lucky woman," he said as he cleaned a wine glass. "Just let me take this man's order and I'll grab your cognac. Here's a glass of whiskey for your wait. No payment needed, sir. It's on the house. You deserve it after the long travel. Where are you from?"

"New York," replied Erik to the rather talkative bartender.

"Nice town. I went there once. What can I get you, sir?" the bartender asked the young man that was sitting on the other side of the bar.

"Whatever you have that's strong," said the young man.

"What's got you so down?" asked the bartender.

"Is it that obvious?"

"It doesn't have to be. Most people don't come here to just have a drink."

The young man sighed. Erik couldn't help but notice his thick French accent. "My wife divorced me, probably married the man she secretly loved for ten years, and I can't show my face in France again. The media is all over the now divorced and broke nobleman. I decided that maybe it was best to come to America and make a new start away from France. Maybe I could get away from a terrible past. Turns out, monsieur, that old habits die hard."

"I see," said the bartender with his ever so light spirit. "Well, sir, it seems that you've had it rough. You can always come and give your troubles to me. I'm always here to listen."

"That, monsieur," said the young Frenchman as he downed a shot of liquor, "is the most comforting thing that's been said to me in years."

"Sir," said Erik out of nowhere, "If I may be of assistance, I would suggest that you try to look up. Hiding behind a mask will get you nowhere."

The Frenchman laughed, "Masks," he sighed, "Masks are for lunatics."

"Then tell me why you hide behind your liquor as a mask. How does being drunk help you get to where you need to go?" asked Erik.

"I am not a drunkard!" spat the Frenchman at the gentleman with his face downcast.

"Really?" asked Erik. "Tell yourself that again when you're sober. You might be able to keep your hands on a job and a wife if you remain that way."

The young man downed another shot of whatever the bartender had served him, and he started to cry. The mysterious gentleman had pegged him right on the head. It was true. If he had been a real man then he would still have his wife and maybe his own son and not that bastard's spawn. Still, it didn't matter anymore. He was alone. At least, he knew in the back of his mind that he would never have to see that masked man ever again so long as he stayed away from that horrible place called Phantasma. He could start anew. The gentleman was correct. If he could start staying sober than maybe it would open new possibilities for him. He was about to thank the gentleman for his advice when he noticed him toss a coin to the bartender for his bottle of cognac. That's when he lifted his head, and the young Frenchman saw a glare of icy blue eyes and a shining white mask.

Erik tossed the young man a quarter. "Everything will turn out," said the masked man, "Good luck to you, Raoul."

With his final comment, Erik left the bar to return to his Christine. He decided that it would be best not to tell her about his run in with Raoul.

Raoul just sat at the bar and stared at his empty shot glass in disbelief of what had just happened. At first, he wanted to dart out of the door and go after the devil's spawn for stealing his wife, but then, he realized that it would do no good. Christine loved the masked gentleman. She would never return to him now. The Phantom was right. He had to change his ways if he wanted a new life.

"Did you know that man?" asked the bartender.

"You could say that," replied Raoul.

"Who was he? He seemed so kind. We don't get a lot of men like that around here."

Raoul almost laughed at the man's comment. "You can call him the Phantom of the Opera. Everybody else does."

Raoul paid for his drink and left while the bartender tried to comprehend just exactly what the Vicomte had told him.