I added a little detail to this chapter that will make those of you who have read the original Kire story probably smile :) I'm sure you will catch it.
Chapter 54
Both Madeline and Meg would most certainly have packed their belongings and abandoned me to my fate if not for Alexandre.
Following my exchange with Madeline, I returned to my bedroom and stayed put for the next three days as to allow Madeline the rest of the house. Alex had no desire to stay in my room since it had turned into an oven, and whenever Meg brought him up, he would immediately cry to stay with her.
Meg looked somewhat horrified and apologetic by Alex's protests, but I dismissed her concerns and asked her to keep him until the heat passed. Although she did not say it aloud, I could tell by the look on her face that she was overjoyed to keep Alex with her.
"Alex, should we see if your father needs anything before we go for a walk?" Meg asked before she started toward the bedroom door.
Alex, of course, used his favorite word to answer her: no.
I picked up the small bottle that had contained the clove and oregano remedy for the wounds to my face. "Do we have more of this?" I asked without looking at her.
Meg tooked the bottle from me and examined the label. "I am not certain."
"Ask your mother," I suggested.
"She is not here," Meg replied. Her words sounded more like a question than an answer.
"Ask her when she returns."
Meg hesitated. "She is not… in Paris."
I looked over my shoulder at her and Meg took a careful step backwards as if she considered bolting from the room. My brow furrowed at her words. "I beg your pardon? She's not in Paris? Where is she?"
Meg appeared positively frightened to say another word. "To London," she answered quickly before turning away.
"When?" I asked.
She abruptly stopped. "Three days ago. She left early in the morning."
I suppose Madeline did not owe me a damned thing, but I was still surprised she had not said a word or at least left a note saying she was traveling to London. Of course, perhaps I was also at fault seeing as how I had not noticed her missing from our shared home.
"How long is she staying?" I asked before Meg disappeared.
"She did not say. I will take Alex with me and find more of this medication," Meg promised as she shook the empty bottle I had given her. Alex immediately reached for it, but she managed to slip it into her skirt pocket before holding out her open hand to show him it had disappeared.
With that, Meg excused herself and shut the bedroom door. Once they were gone, I pulled off my mask and wiped my forehead and cheek with a clean rag and found a pink tinge to the rag.
I could not help but feel a sense of disappointment that Madeline had not only left without so much as a word, but also that she had taken an unexpected leave and had no idea I had listened to her instructions and kept my mask off overnight and majority of the last three days.
The wounds improved immensely by the first morning, and three days in the swelling had gone down and the redness was less noticeable. The pain subsided, my focus on composing returned despite the overwhelming heat, and my mood vastly improved.
On the fourth morning Meg politely knocked on the bedroom door and explained she had plans for the day and was unable to have Alexandre accompany her. She handed him back without incident, but the moment Alex realized she intended to leave without him, he began crying.
As he had done not even two weeks earlier, he pulled his head back and I knew before he tilted forward he intended to hit his head on the desk again. I l blocked him and he appeared quite surprised when I cupped his forehead in my hand to prevent him from hurting himself a second time.
"Should I cancel?" Meg questioned. She looked at Alex when she spoke and wrung her hands.
As much as I wanted to tell her yes, I waved a dismissive hand in her direction and turned back to the newspaper I had half-heartedly been reading while taking a break from music.
"Did you find another bottle?" I asked before she exited my room.
Meg frowned, "I'm afraid not. The label says Leach Pharmacies direct from London. Perhaps Mother brought it back with her the last time she visited family?"
I sighed to myself. "Perhaps," I said.
Meg remained a moment longer. "Are you certain you do not need me to stay?" she offered.
"Do as you wish."
Her wish was apparently to leave because she did just that, to which Alex began crying until he discovered the newspaper in my hand and decided to focus his energy on tearing it to pieces and tossing the scraps onto the floor.
"You are quite fond of her, aren't you?" I asked as he sat on the floor and tore a long strip off the bottom of the paper. With a wide grin on his round face, he sent it flying through the air. "And of making a mess?"
He gave another exaggerated nod and leaned so far forward he bumped his head unintentionally on the corner of the desk. Immediately he turned to look at me as though deciding whether or not to cry.
"You are fine," I said. The words caught me off guard, a long ago reminder of what my uncle had once said to me quite often.
I apparently lacked the conviction my uncle possessed as Alex decided he was not at all fine. He opened his hands to throw the next shred of paper onto the ground, but it stuck to his palm. That alone created such world-ending devastation that he was unable to catch his breath as he cried, and tears turned to hiccups followed by ear-splitting screams all in the span of approximately thirty seconds.
There was a knock at the door, which I heard faintly over Alex crying. I reached for him but he pushed my hand away.
"One moment please!" Meg called. I hadn't realized she was still within the house.
Instead of answering the door, I heard her climb the stairs. Without knocking she gently pushed the door open and peered inside. Alex, being far too preoccupied with the newspaper, which he suddenly could not bear to have near him at all, failed to realize Meg stood at the door.
I motioned for her to leave, but she hesitated, her brow furrowed and mouth set in a deep frown of concern.
The same caller knocked at the door again and Meg finally shut the bedroom door. The click of the door shutting drew Alex's attention and his tears stopped immediately as he stared at where Meg had been only a moment earlier.
"May?" he questioned. That was as close as he had come to saying her name. He sat quietly for a moment, his chest still heaving as Meg answered the door.
"Charles!" she exclaimed. "Oh, it is lovely to see you again."
"Mademoiselle, you look wonderful as always. Out of all the sights in the world, you are the most lovely indeed."
"You are too kind. I have missed you greatly."
Their conversation caught my attention as I had never heard of this man before, which seemed unusual considering Meg appeared quite fond and familiar with him.
"And I have missed you. Letters are not nearly as satisfying as seeing you in person again."
"May?" Alex tried again, this time a little louder than before.
"You have no idea what your words mean to me, Charles."
"And I cannot tell you how often I dreamt of you dancing on the stage. Please tell me I may see you perform again. Or better yet, I would be honored to dance with you."
"You flatter me." Meg giggled in the same fashion she reserved for playing with Alex-and my son noticed.
Bottom lip protruding, he pounded his hands on the rug and kicked his legs. "May, May May!" he yelled.
I stood and scooped him up from the floor, which startled him into silence momentarily. "You will see her tomorrow," I said.
"Is that a baby crying?" the gentleman questioned.
His query was followed by a long silence. "It is."
I couldn't tell if she was annoyed or simply had no desire to elaborate.
"I do not mean to pry, Mademoiselle, but is the child related to you?"
"Me? Oh, goodness no, he is not mine he is…"
I held my breath, uncertain of how she would explain Alex's parentage to a man she clearly had been or intended to court.
"He is actually with his father, but I have been caring for him. The baby, not the father," Meg said with a nervous laugh.
"Maaaaay," Alex groaned.
"If you would excuse me," Meg said.
I knew if Alex spotted her, whatever plans Meg had made would be cancelled as he would guilt her into staying with him.
"Do not open the door or say a word," I commanded. "He will survive a day without you."
My words were followed by silence. I wondered if Charles had turned and run from the house or if Meg still stood outside of the bedroom door torn between her love for Alex and the charming suitor who had called.
At last I heard the front door close and sighed to myself once I heard the two of them outside. I placed Alex on the floor and walked to the window where I saw Meg take the arm of a tall and slender man with dark hair and a wide smile.
Everything about Meg appeared different with the suitor at her side. She smiled brightly and gazed at him with her wide blue eyes as they headed toward the corner. I saw her look back toward the house and I took a step away from the window and nearly fell over Alex, who had crawled beside me. He tried to pull himself up to the window to look out, but was not yet tall enough. I left him by the window for a moment and gathered up the newspaper scattered across the floor. As I folded it neatly on my desk, I noticed a name on the back page toward the top.
Christine de Chagny to perform at Drury Lane Friday Evening.
My heart stuttered. I glanced up at Alex, who was still struggling to pull himself up, then back at the newspaper.
Again I read the headline and the brief, two paragraph article beneath it and doubted it was a coincidence that Madeline had abruptly left for London when Christine was supposed to perform.
The recently wedded Vicomte and Vicomtess de Chagny will be hosting a dinner followed by a ball after the performance. The Vicomtess, a resident of Paris, has not performed publicly in over a year.
The Vicomtess was not available for comment as to what she will perform at her first visit to London. The theatre would not comment on the sum paid to the couple for her talent.
"Alex," I said as my son managed to pull himself up and immediately fell back onto the floor. He reached for the window sill again, determined as ever to stand and look for Meg. Really, it should not have come as a surprise that he was so determined in his efforts.
The aching in my chest refused to be ignored. I abandoned the newspaper and sat on the edge of the desk in stunned silence as I watched Alex. Undoubtedly Christine was the reason behind Madeline's sudden leave. I wondered if Madeline intended to ask Christine to take her son back, if after our last conversation before she left unexpectedly she had decided Alex deserved better.
Alex managed to pull himself up sufficiently to gaze out the window for a moment before he sat hard again. With no sight of Meg, he abandoned the window and crawled toward me until he saw his toys scattered across the rug and changed his mind.
He had no idea how I studied his every move, how even when he screamed and seemed inconsolable how I loved him more than I thought possible.
I wondered if Madeline would return alone or if Christine would retrieve Alex herself. I felt conflicted between wanting desperately to see Christine again, to prove I had been good to our son and was worthy of her affection while at the same time fearing she would look through me as she often did, as if I were made of nothing. A true ghost, I thought to myself, nothing more than an afterthought undeserving of her time. She would take Alex from me without a second thought. She would take him and he would forget my love for him. Given his age, I knew he would forget I ever existed, and moments such as these where I watched him play would be meaningless to him.
Alex picked up his toy train and threw it, then reached out toward his discarded toy as he looked over his shoulder at me and babbled to himself. Christine would have no idea that this was our son's way of engaging in play.
She would know nothing of him at all from the times in which he napped to how it could take him the better part of an hour to eat because the stained glass butterfly hanging in the dining room window caught his attention or he insisted on talking nonsense instead of taking another bite. She would not know how he loved his baths and pulled Meg's hair, or how he screamed both in delight and in frustration. The higher the pitch, the more delighted he seemed.
I crouched down beside him, picked up the train, and handed it to him again. He, of course, threw it just out of reach and pointed at it.
"Here." I set the toy beside him and he looked up at me, flashed a devilish grin with two teeth and drool hanging from his bottom lip. He laughed, threw it again, and pointed for me to sit beside him.
Our days were numbered. I took a seat on the floor, pulled him into my lap, and kissed his dark curls of hair. Eyes closed, I inhaled sharply, attempting to commit every detail of the way he felt and smelled to my memory.
By Monday morning the heat gave way to rain and the house turned cooler and more comfortable at last. Meg spent every afternoon out with Charles, which meant her usual time spent with Alex was cut considerably shorter.
"Mother should be back soon I would think," Meg said as she took Alex downstairs with her for lunch. "I will feed Alex before I leave."
Rather than work on compositions while Alex was with Meg, I made a list of his favorite toys, his preferences for bedtime and when he usually woke, napped, and ate. I noted the number of teeth he had and that another had broken through on the top. I explained the small bump on his head and the bruise, which had almost healed, and warned of his temper.
I attempted to read over my notes and realized each line was uneven and the words smudged and almost indecipherable. My hand was unsteady, my heart racing and mind numb as I stared at the page and found I could not concentrate enough to read even the simplest of words.
At last I tossed my notes down, pulled my mask up, and wiped away a mixture of perspiration and tears. I regretted allowing Meg to take Alex with her even for an hour as I selfishly wanted to keep my son with me. I stood, shoved my chair back with such force it fell over, and walked to the bedroom door to ask for Alex to be returned to me at once.
I opened the door and found Madeline at the top of the stairs. I turned from her quickly, pulled my mask into place and inhaled sharply in surprise.
"Erik," she said as though equally surprised to see me.
My stomach churned. "Did you see her?" I blurted out.
Madeline narrowed her eyes. "She's in the kitchen with Alex."
I stepped back from the door and looked away, unable to catch my breath. My worst fears had come true, and now that the moment had arrived, I felt like an animal ensnared in a trap.
"My goodness, what is wrong?" Madeline asked. She grabbed me by the arm and I immediately pulled away.
"Does she want him back?" I asked.
She looked me over briefly. "I beg your pardon? I'm not sure I understand."
"Does Christine want Alex back?" I asked through my teeth.
My words were followed by an agonizing moment of silence, which was all the answer I needed. Of course she would want him back. If not for the simple reason that Alex was her son, then she would demand he be returned to her because she was able to take something else from me.
"You saw in the paper she was in London," Madeline said at last. "That is who you meant when you asked if I had seen her."
I risked a glance in her direction and saw her frown.
"I meant Meg is in the kitchen with Alex, not Christine," Madeline answered.
"You went to London to see her."
"I went to London to see my brother and his family," she corrected. "But yes, I saw Christine as well before her performance. We spoke briefly." Her eyes met mine. "Alex was never mentioned."
As much as I wanted to feel relieved, I still felt overwhelming sadness on my son's behalf. Even if I did not want Christine to take him from me, it hurt to know she did not ask about her own child's wellbeing.
"Why would you think she would come for him?" Madeline questioned.
"Because…" I am incapable of being the person I should be for my son." I thought you traveled to London to ask her to take him back."
Madeline turned her head to the side, her lips parted in horror. "You honestly think I would do such a thing?"
I didn't know what to think any more. For days I had agonized over the thought of losing my son. I had laid awake in bed, sick to my stomach and unable to catch my breath over the sheer thought of Madeline taking him from my arms one last time. Every possible scenario from Alex screaming as he realized he was being taken away to him laughing and not looking back at me flitted through my thoughts until I convinced myself he was already gone and the situation was out of my control.
"You did not say you were leaving," I said under my breath.
"Honestly, if I told you I was visiting my brother would you have cared?"
I looked at her sharply. "Your business is your own," I answered, but my voice lacked conviction and she knew it. She was well aware I did not like her leaving without a word said to me. "You once told me everything."
Madeline crossed her arms and shook her head. "You once cared when I spoke to you."
She was correct. I could do nothing more than nod to acknowledge her words.
"Erik, I understand Alex is your son, but surely you realize we love him as well. I would be devastated to see him return to… her," Madeline said with an edge to her voice. "Meg would be beside herself. And you?"
"I would not choose to live without him."
Her lips quivered at my words and she took a step forward. Grave concern showed in her tear-filled eyes and she reached out, grabbing my hand briefly before she let go and turned away. She cupped both hands over her mouth and choked back a sob.
I made no attempt to retract my words. Without Alex, there was nothing left for me.
"Tell me, what have I done in the years we have known one another where you would think I would act in a vindictive manner and take Alex from you?" Madeline asked.
"It was never what you had done," I answered quickly. "Not once."
"I apologize if my leave troubled you. That was not my intention," Madeline said. She noticed my overturned chair behind the desk and went to place it upright. She stood behind the desk and glanced at the papers I had spread across the surface, then looked up and met my eye. "What is all of this?" she asked as she leaned forward and narrowed her eyes.
It was far too late to scoop up the notes I had written regarding Alexandre. I stood awkwardly in the middle of the room with my lips parted as Madeline picked up one of the sheets and looked it over thoroughly before her gaze settled on mine.
"His favorite toys are in a box under my desk as well as the majority of his clothing. I intended to keep some of it."
She glanced down at the box I had mentioned and gave a weary sigh.
"I will never be what he deserves," I said. "I will never be that person for him."
Madeline gathered all of the notes into a neat pile and held them up. "You made notations of how many times you pat him on the back to burp him properly and how many days it has been between his first tooth and the one that came in recently." Madeline grunted and offered a smile. "I could not tell you those details about Meg. I never thought to write them down. You are more of that person than you realize."
I looked away from her. "You did not need to know the details because you would not lose your only daughter to her father."
"You will not lose him, I assure you," Madeline said firmly. "Christine would not be able to explain a nearly ten month old child suddenly on her lap. She will have her own family soon I would think."
And it would not include Alex-or me.
"If I had known you were traveling to London I would have had you bring back more of that medicine in the amber bottle," I said to change the subject.
"You have kept the wounds clean?" she asked as though somewhat surprised.
"They are improved." I paused. "As much as possible, I suppose."
"You kept the mask off then as I suggested?"
"Frequently." I paused, waiting for her to request that I show her the wounds had mostly healed. If she asked it of me, I would do as she asked and show her I was capable of changing for the better. "Despite what you might think, I do listen when you speak."
She smiled genuinely at last, clearly satisfied with my answer. "So it seems. I brought back three bottles for you. The pharmacy where they are sold was my first stop once I arrived as I did not want to forget." She abandoned the notes and walked around from behind the desk. "We will keep Alex downstairs until supper so that you may continue to let the wounds breathe a while longer."
Reluctantly I nodded.
Madeline turned toward the bedroom door but paused. "I am glad you are healing."
As long as Alex remained in my life, I felt as though there was a possibility I would continue to heal, perhaps inside as well as out.
A/N For those of you who didn't catch it... Leach Pharmacies. Poor Erik can't get away from Archie!
