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Christine
Chapter 53
The Compromise
"I can't wait for Dilara to be able to talk." Reza was between Erik and me as we walked from Ibrahim's apartment to ours. Nadir would stay there for about an hour longer to eat dinner with him and his sister. Reza would be eating with us this evening, then stay the night, sleeping on the couch. This was something he'd only done once before and had been begging to do it again. Erik often feared that he'd have an attack in the middle of the night, and that Reza would hear, but he was willing to chance it tonight - the boy's pleading had done him in.
That, and I suspected he wanted a good reason to ignore my father.
Which was the final straw for me - I would need to talk to Papa tonight. The silence in the apartment was wearing on me something terrible.
"Oh," said Erik to Reza, the boy's hand in his, "and what will you talk to her about? Political discourse?"
I smiled and Reza giggled. "No," he said, "but we could talk about our favorite stories."
"No talk of The Communist Manifesto? I think baby Dilara would love to discuss that."
"That sounds boring. I'd rather talk about fairy tales."
"Stay a child forever, Reza, if you please."
We arrived at our apartment. Anticipation for the conversation to come twisted my gut, but it had to happen. I put my hand on my husband's arm as we stood on the stoop. "You two go to the study - perhaps play piano for him. I need to talk to Papa while I cook."
"Ah," he said, and looked at the the door.
"Hopefully, the end result will be amicable table talk today."
"Reza is here, so I'm sure it will be. Gustave loves him. He'd offer his own bed if Reza wasn't content on the couch. I doubt he would show any ill mood whether he felt it or not.
"Then tomorrow night we will see."
"I can have Gustave's bed?" asked Reza.
Erik grinned. "No. It's the sofa for you."
We stepped inside. The moment we did, I heard the sound of china clinking in the kitchen. I pulled Erik down for a kiss, ruffled Reza's hair, and let them both know I would be in there.
I found my father at the counter, making himself a cup of tea. He was in the process of stirring in sugar. He saw me come in and gave a small smile. "Good evening, my dear," he said. He tapped his spoon against the rim of the cup and placed it on the saucer. "Will you need help with dinner tonight?"
"No. I don't think so. But - let's sit." I started for the kitchen table.
He sighed. "Yes. I think we do need to talk. Any tea for you?"
"That would be lovely, actually. Thank you."
He poured me tea as well, prepared it, and sat down, placing the cups on the table's surface.
"So," I started.
"So," he agreed, nodding.
"About the other day."
He looked me in the eye. "Do you still agree with him?"
"Yes."
He thinned his lips. "Christine-"
"And I will explain why." I pulled my tea closer to me. I stared into the liquid as I spoke. "Vincenzo is the last family Erik has left that is not you or me."
"I know. I do know that, love. I understand. But - it's complicated."
"Very much so. I think we all know that."
He shook his head. "But you are Erik's wife. He must put you first."
"Erik does. He told me that if I told him to, he'd not see Vincenzo anymore."
My father's brows raised. "And?"
"I told him he still could."
He blew out a breath. "Why, Christine..."
"Because what if you were certain I was killed-"
"I was certain of that."
"Right. Me too - of you." I took his hand. "So what if I reappeared in your life - but I'd changed. I was a criminal. But otherwise, I was the same person you remembered. Older, tainted by the world's cruelties, but myself. And then you were ordered not to see me anymore. Would you abandon me?"
He considered my words, then slowly shook his head. "I want you to be safe."
"Erik knows Vincenzo better than we do. I trust him if he says that he won't hurt us."
"It's been years. Perhaps Erik is misguided, blinded by his want for this Vincenzo person to be in his life."
"Papa, I can't ask him not to see his brother."
"Christine, you are my little girl."
"I'm not little anymore. I'm not a damsel who needs to be protected. Don't worry about my safety."
"Don't worry? Christine, you are my daughter."
"And Erik is my husband. I trust him. If you don't, then I understand. If you are worried for your own safety as well, then he and I can think about moving out so that if Vincenzo comes to murder anyone in the house - which I believe he won't - you won't be one of the victims."
"Ah - no." Alarm entered his eyes. "I want you both to stay. Otherwise the house will be too quiet. And I did not enjoy that when you were gone." His voice had a troubled quality to it. He took a sip of tea. "I am not changing your mind about this, though, am I?"
"No."
There were several minutes of silence, then. We both drank our tea. From the study across the apartment, Erik - or perhaps Reza - banged loudly on the piano keys. The sound of rich laughter from both.
"I will propose a compromise," Papa said suddenly.
I nodded, waiting.
"You trust Erik's judgement. Well, I will choose to trust yours - a hard decision in this particular case, I might add, so be appreciative. If you approve of his actions, then so be it. But if I don't approve - such as now - then keep me out of it. We will talk, be merry, be a family, but I draw a boundary at this topic. I do not want to even hear Vincenzo's name when I am near. Fair?"
"Fair." And it was. As fair, at least, as was possible.
Later, as Erik read Reza to sleep in the parlor, I sat at the boy's feet while my husband sat in the armchair. When it looked like Reza was gone from the world, I went to the chair and sat on the arm. I took his hand as he gazed at Reza.
"My father and I talked," I whispered.
"How did that go?"
I told him what we said. He listened intently, then sighed, leaning his head back. He looked at the ceiling.
"It's not ideal that I can't share that part of my life with him," he said. "But if he's willing to at least leave it alone - then fine."