Why Hello.
I must apologize most profusely for how long this chapter took in uploading.
This chapter is dedicated to my dear friend Gene's Gal.
And now, without further ado, I present...
Chapter Eight
"Erik!" Christine called as she returned to the lair after a shopping trip with Meg. "I'm home"
"In the bedroom Angel" Erik called back
Creeping forward silently she moved to watch the goings on- on the bed Cara was trying unsuccessfully to snatch her father's mask.
A laugh escaped the soprano. Her husband tensed allowing the baby (who had no idea that the game was over) to grab the mask off his cheek. Christine gasped silently.
Erik felt the air get to the deformed right cheek and the anger bubbled up in him- that was until he heard the sweetest sound ever to enter his ears- a soft melodic, exquisitely joyful chuckle from the mattress.
Lying on the red fabric, white mask clutched in her chubby little fists with a dark halo of silky waves and a triumphant glittering in her large obsidian eyes, Cara was the most touching sight he had ever laid eyes on. He laughed too and pressed his lips to her nose.
After that Cara developed with astonishing speed: she was crawling by the time she was three moths old; walking by six months and her first word 'music' was uttered in the seventh month. By her first birthday Cara was fully teethed and her vocabulary three hundred words strong.
"One year old" Christine said as she and Erik looked down at their sleeping daughter, a small pile of packages lay on the corner of their bed.
"Yes, where did the year go?" Erik kissed her and his hand ran absently over his wife's lower torso. "Has the morning sickness stopped?"
Before Christine could reply Cara stirred and rubbed her eyes.
"Mama," she held out her little hands to Christine. She nuzzled her mother's shoulder.
"Mama, what that?" She had spotted the packages.
"Shall we go and see little angel?" Erik grinned.
Cara smiled and clapped her little white hands in excitement.
Being but a year old Cara had no idea what the squiggles in the parcels meant.
"To Cara, happy first birthday from Nana, Auntie Meg and Pierre." Papa said following the squiggles on one of the parcels.
"Mine?" Cara frowned puzzled that the package was for her. Her parents nodded. She ripped off the brown paper.
Pretty soon she sat in a nest of paper holding the only present of interest in her hands.
"Put on" she demanded holding the little mask out to her father. "Now please"
Erik smiled and obliged her.
"Look like Papa?" she looked up at her mother
"Ah ha" was all Christine could get out due to cuteness of the little thing who was now standing next to her father, holding on to him for support
Suddenly Cara's tummy rumbled. "Food please!"
Well, there you go.
I wasn't particulary happy with the way this turned out- I just couldn't add anything to it that would improve it.
In the next chapter- The Return of the Fop, it's a long one too.
Until next time dear readers.
I remain,
-MV
