We'll Always Have Venice

Chapter 10

"My feet are in ag-ony!" Antonio whined as he followed a step behind Christine.

Christine looked down at her son and sighed when she saw his grumpy little face. His green eyes were dull with boredom and his lips were turned down at the corners. It was not surprising that his feet were sore – she had been pulling him along with her, looking for something to wear for the last two hours.

After dropping Antonio off at preschool, Christine returned home to work on her novel. With Erik spending more time with her, Christine realised that she could no longer go constantly around in her typical mum outfit of jeans and a plain shirt. It was not until she went to collect her son that she realised that she was in need of something different to wear. She really had no choice but to take her son shopping with her.

"I would like to try these clothes on first, Antonio," Christine said with another suffering sigh. "Then we will sit down. We might even get a big milkshake!"

"Can I get one now?" Antonio raised his eyes hopefully to Christine's.

When Christine only shook her head, Antonio's face fell even further. Bored, frustrated and tired, Antonio began to amuse himself by pushing through the racks of clothes. She grabbed his hand and pulled him away from the clothes. Taking a look at his face – which was a pale purple – Christine realised how close he was to throwing a tantrum, and quickly decided that she would have to make do with whatever was in her hand. The last thing she wanted was to have other shoppers look at her as if she were a bad mother.

In the change room, she watched with a doting smile as Antonio climbed onto the little stool, relieved to rest his feet. After quickly trying on the clothes and asking Antonio's opinion, Christine pulled Antonio off the chair and to the nearest café. Hopefully with a full tummy and rested feet, he would quietly follow her to a home wares shop.

With Antonio happily playing on the indoor playground that was right next to the coffee, Christine was able to enjoy her coffee in peace. Her shopping sat on one of the spare chairs. Grinning, Antonio ran back up to the table to get Christine's attention.

"Watch me, Mummy!" he called, staying only long enough to assure himself that she was watching him before running back to the playground to slide head first down the slide.

Watching her son as he played happily with the other children, it took Christine a moment to realise that someone was standing at the table. She glanced up at the same time that she set her cup down with a clatter.

"Erik!" she squeaked. She glanced nervously at the playground to make sure that Antonio was too busy playing to notice that his mother had company.

Following Christine's gaze, Erik closely watched Antonio. It was perhaps the fourth time that he had seen the boy while he was awake. He could not help but grin as he watched the boy climbing up the outside of the equipment, going far higher than any other child.

"May I sit down?" he asked, gesturing a chair. When Christine nodded, Erik slid gracefully into the seat. "You've been shopping?"

Christine glanced at the bags and grimaced.

"I suppose all the shopping in those bags is for Antonio," Erik said, knowing how much Christine spoiled her son.

"No, it's not for Antonio," she said simply, not wanting him to know she had gone on a mad shopping spree so she would have something different to wear when Erik came over.

Erik looked closely at her, sensing that she was holding something from him. As he looked again at the collection of bags, Erik realised that the bags were from shops that no three-year-old boy would want to go into. He hid a smile as he realised that she had probably bought herself some clothes to wear with him.

"Well, it's interesting that you bought yourself something-"

"I never said that I bought stuff for myself," Christine protested too quickly.

Erik smiled widely at her and decided it would be best to change the subject. "I found this and thought you might it." He reached into the small bag he had been carrying and pulled out a small cardboard box and pushed it across the table.

Picking up the box, Christine turned it in her hand so she could read the label. She beamed at him and grabbed his hand in thanks. "Twinings! You even remembered my favourite blend. Thank you!"

The money he had spent ordering in the box of tea from London had been worth it. Christine's smile and the way she clutched his hand had been worth that expensive box of tea.

"I'm amazed that you still remember my favourite tea," Christine said in wonder as she looked between their joined hands and Erik's face.

Erik chuckled and touched her cheek with the tip of a finger. "We spent half a day searching Venice for it, Christine. There was no way I could forget it." Then there were the times they had lazily sipped their tea and coffee in bed, reluctant to leave the comfort of their bed.

As if sensing Erik's thoughts, Christine continued, "I'll never forget all the times we had breakfast in bed in Venice."

They fell into a comfortable silence as they recalled the many hours they had spent together in Venice. No matter how hard they tried, neither was able to forget those two magical months. Christine certainly could not now that she had a constant reminder.

"He's fearless," Erik observed as he reluctantly pulled his gaze away from Christine's and watched Antonio's antics.

Christine laughed and nodded her head. "Some of the things he does frightens me. I often worry that he'll be beaten up at school for being so artistic and musical that I try and encourage his adventurousness."

Erik's expression became concerned when he thought of his childhood and the concern he had for Antonio's safety. The last thing he would ever want was for Antonio to be beaten at school because of a talent he had inherited. "That's a good idea. I wouldn't want that to happen either."

Christine looked over at Antonio to see him glaring at another child. Sensing that her son was about to launch into a tantrum, she quickly finished her coffee and then grabbed her bags. "Antonio's getting tired; we need to go home." She sighed as she realised that she was not going to be able to go to the home wares shop.

"Is it still all right for me to come over tonight?" Erik asked as he too climbed to his feet.

"Come over after eight," she answered distractedly over her shoulder as she raced after her son.

Erik watched Christine and Antonio go, impatiently counting down the hours until he would see Christine again.

She felt as if she were a teenager hiding a forbidden romance from her parents – not the other way around! However, the only way she could see Erik without worrying that Antonio would become attached to him was if her son was asleep or Phoebe was looking after him.

For the past several weeks, Erik and Christine had been watching Antonio's baby videos. He could almost believe that they were just another couple in love, watching TV side by side on the couch. The icy distance that Christine still clung to – particularly after what had happened at his place – however made it difficult to fully believe.

He had seen four Christmases, three birthdays and several other videos of Antonio singing, drawing and playing. It was almost possible to believe that he was looking at a miniature version of himself.

Christine was so intently watching the video of her son playing Twinkle, Twinkle on the piano, her eyes full of pride that she failed to hear Antonio pad into the room. His pillow made scuffing noises as he dragged it along behind him. When he saw Erik, he dropped the pillow and looked intently at him.

"Hello," he said softly to Erik.

"Bubby, what are you doing up? It is well and truly past your bedtime," Christine said gently as she stood, stepped over Erik's outstretched legs and quickly went to her son.

In her mind she could imagine the thoughts going through Erik's and Antonio's minds. She did not want her son to know about Erik until she knew for certain how Erik felt about the child.

"Can I stay and watch with you?"

Christine shook her head. "You need to go back to your bed."

"But I want to watch videos with you!" he shouted as he gave Christine a shove and jumped up and down on his pillow. His temper fully roused, Antonio ran across the room, knocking anything within his reach down to keep Christine from catching him as he made his way to the couch. He knocked a photo frame onto the floor, shattering the glass. Once he was safely on the couch, he threw the cushions at Christine. "I don't want go to bed! I want to stay and watch videos! I want to watch videos! I don't want to go back to bed! I don't want to!"

"Antonio Gordon Daaé!" Christine shouted in English, too angry to deal rationally with her son. "You do not speak to Mummy like that! You do not scream at me and you do not throw things. Look at what you have done! You've broken the photo of Mummy and Antonio. You, mister, will go straight back to your bed now."

Antonio's anger was still in full swing as Christine picked him up and carried him to his bedroom. His flailing legs kicked her in the thigh, causing Christine to gasp with pain. She sat him down on his bed and waited for him to stop shouting before speaking.

"You have made Mummy very sad now, Antonio. When you threw all of Mummy's things onto the floor, you broke some of my things. The photo of Mummy and Antonio on the horse in the park is broken now. I liked that picture and now it is ruined," Christine finished, tears of frustration in her eyes.

Seeing his mother in tears finally eased Antonio's impressive temper. He dissolved into tears and tucked himself into a corner of the room, away from Christine. With an exhausted sigh, Christine pressed a kiss on the back of Antonio's head and left the room, leaving the door partly open so she would be able to hear when his tears finally ended.

She leant against the hall wall, her eyes closed, gathering her breath before she faced Erik. Her hands still shaking, she covered her face as she fought back another wave of sobs. When she opened them, she found Erik looking at her with what looked to be horror in his eyes.

"He will be fine," she assured him, convinced he thought her a bad mother. That was something she wished he had never seen. She did not often lose control over her temper like that. It was just unfortunate that Erik was there when it happened. "He'll just cry himself to sleep soon."

"Is he always like that?"

"No! He's usually very calm and talkative. He doesn't usually get angry."

Erik shook his head. "I mean his tantrums; are they always that explosive?"

"Always; since I can remember. He has a habit of picking up whatever is in his reach and destroying it. His temper is-"

"-A lot like my own," Erik finished for Christine.

Christine remained silent. She gave a jerky nod and then burst into loud sobs.

Uncertain how to comfort her – of if she would even allow him to – Erik stepped forward and led her away from the doorway with a gentle hand at her back. Once back in the family room, Erik wrapped his arms around Christine and held her close as they both cried.