Chapter XXIX.

Christine spoiled Erik more and more, day after day. They led a happy life together. Erik thought he had been in a happy marriage before – but it was nothing compared to this Heaven on Earth he felt himself in right at this time. He had an adoring wife who showed him affection that he was now willing to accept, he had two adorable children to play with and fill their tiny skulls with new things every day, he lived surrounded by music and love. Christine wanted him to finally make peace with his face and body, so she complimented Erik about the things she liked about his appearance, as, however hard to believe it was, she really learned to like some features of Erik throughout the years. Of course, there were still things she did not find attractive about her husband – but the fear and horror she felt the first time she saw that face faded away, and unpleasant memories no longer haunted her. Only affection and love for her husband remained, and this made her realize the good sides of Erik's looks. She liked to stroke and play with Erik's hair, for example. Though Erik was nearly all bald at the top of his head, he had kind of much hair at the back of his head and neck that fell down to his shoulders. It was so soft and silky, and she loved to twist it around her fingers.

- What do you think I am, a furry dog, to pet, eh? – Erik sometimes remarked, with his usual half- teasing way of endearment.

She also loved how Erik's eyes reflected the light in a dark room and glowed a goldish yellow. Back in the Opera, she found that fact creepy and frightening, but now, as those eyes weren't showing anger and bitterness or sadness and plea all the time, they weren't the same any more. They lit up in a dark room soothingly, giving her the calming reassurance that Erik was there with her, and nothing or no one could harm her as long as Erik is watching over her.

Erik had long fingers, and large hands. One of his hands was as big as both of Christine's. Yes, they were bony and skeletal, like all his body, but Christine liked how long his fingers were. Yes, his hands and feet were cold all the time, but she did not feel it as the icy touch of Death any more. Sometimes it was unpleasant to feel his cold hands touching the back of her bare neck, but on a hotter summer day it could still be a refresh. She asked Erik sometimes to keep his hand somewhere on her to cool her a bit.

He wasn't that pale any more- during these years of marriage, seeing more sunlight by going out frequently with his family, Erik's hands gained some tan that made at least his hands look more natural colored. As his face was hidden behind that human mask, his face was still pale, but not as much as he was in the Opera. Taking better care of his health made Erik look better. Although he was very skinny, he did gain some weight as well, compared to his form ten years ago. Christine assumed he could not gain more weight for some reason than his current size – maybe it was just genetics with Erik, as she cooked meals regularly for him, which he mostly ate.

Erik found the compliments unusual, but very dear to his soul and they were so good to hear. He never received so much praise before, not even from his beloved wife. It was unusual, but heartwarming.

But it did not stop there. The loving wife wanted to make Erik feel better about his appearance not only by telling him positive feedback about how he looked – she wanted Erik to see it himself. She had a vanity table in their bedroom, and that mirror was covered anytime when Christine wasn't looking in it for doing her make – up, or hair, but she got fed up with this. She removed the cloth from the mirror and sat Erik down in front of it.

- Why are you doing this to me, Christine? – He moaned in disbelief when he realized what she was up to.

- I want you to look into this mirror, Erik, and tell me what you see in it.

- A monster with a death's head. – He softly admitted.

- That's not the right way to think, Erik. Not anymore. I want you to search for things you like about your face.

- There's nothing I like about it, really.

- Try to think of Mahtab's face then. – She offered. – Do you see her as a monster as well?

- Not now. But I used to, after her birth.

- But now, do you like her face?

- I like her personality- but to tell the truth her face no longer bothers me either. If I have to list something, I love her smile. She smiles at me with so much love you can't describe- and it makes devil's little face look a lot more beautiful.

- Erik…

- I know what you want, Christine, and Erik thanks you for it. But he doesn't think he could get used to, or like his face as it is. Ever. Erik is thankful that Christine no longer thinks him as a monster and she learned to love his features – he can't thank you enough for that – and for accepting our deformed child just as she was like anyone else but there are no miracles, Christine. Erik won't like anything of his face – ever. The most that could happen is that he won't start retching immediately if he looks into a mirror within time. He did not try to look into one for so long time, but he will try his best to get used to his own face if that's what you want for him to accomplish.

- Erik… I just wish you loved yourself.

- It is enough if you and my children love me. It is more than I could have ever hoped for.

Being not really successful in making Erik learn to love his appearance, Christine did not lose all hopes, she also wanted Erik to feel better about their private time together. Before she just accepted the fact that Erik was only willingly make love to her in complete darkness, so that she was only able to see his eyes glowing, but she decided it was enough of that. She wanted to see Erik, all of him. There wasn't a time before that he undressed in front of her. The only time she saw him in underwear were when she took care of him while he was sick, and Erik wasn't even aware of her removing his clothing. On a nice day in the spring, it all had to change. April sunshine lit the room, and Christine wanted to spend time with Erik – in the morning. At first Erik was a bit reluctant, but after some minutes of endearments, kisses and hugs… he wasn't able to say no to his beloved Christine any more. That was the first time he let her see him, as God created him, and to his surprise, the dear and sweet girl only told so sweet things about him… even though they did the deed from time to time in the past, and they already had two children, Erik felt he had just lived his wedding night, even though it was daytime. Finally lovemaking was really about making love. It was so much better to do it this way- and that caused Erik to be a Don Juan Triumphant more often to his wife – despite his age, he tried to please Christine (and of course, himself) as much as possible.

Not only spiritual things changed in the family. There were some other things that got changed as well.

One morning, Christine just left the house in the morning, with a giant smile, and returned some hours later, with an even bigger smile and kissed Erik on the lips.

- What has happened, my dear girl? – Erik laughed, knowing that something made Christine really happy.

- Erik dear, I fixed things up a bit.

- What do you mean? – Erik asked curiously.

- Well. Let me introduce myself, Monsieur Spöke. I am Mademe Christine Spöke.

- Oh, Christine… but why? – He smiled, but tears were forming in his eyes from being touched to the depth of his soul.

- Erik, it was a mistake I did not take your name when we got married… but as I told you back then, at the Opera everyone knew me as Christine Daaé… but it was a mistake to keep my maiden name. It could be felt that I did not accept you. Did it, Erik, dear?

- Well…. To be honest… sometimes… yes. – He nodded. – I took this name to be able to marry you and the fact that you don't want to wear it made me a bit of sad deep in my heart.

- I am sorry about that, Erik. But from now on, I am Madame Spöke, and I wear that name proudly.

- Oh, Christine, my dear, sweet Christine. – Erik knelt down to kiss Christine's shoes to show his deepest gratitude for her acceptance.

- And I fixed the children's names as well. They only wear our last name now, but I have another surprise.

- What's that? – Erik lifted his head up to look his wife in the eye.

- Mahtab got a second name.

- Christine, dear, you know I don't like two names…

- Her middle name is Geneviève.

Erik fell silent and kissed Christine's hand. Oh, she remembered back to his sentence about naming his daughter after his poor unhappy mother if he could chose now… oh how thoughtful his sweet wife was!

Erik was so happy and touched to see the newly printed birth certificates of his children: "Mahtab Geneviève Spöke born in Paris, 2nd November 1885" and "Erik Florian Spöke born in Paris 7th September, 1888".

Said children were in a flawless health, thank Heavens.

Mahtab received her pocket watch she wanted so much for her fifth Birthday. She was so happy to have it. Finally, she was considered to be old enough to have a watch of her own. She would announce the time in every two minutes as she was squeezing the large round watch in both of her hands. Erik patted her head proudly and kissed her forehead.

His little daughter was old enough to learn to read and write as well. Christine still thought that Mahtab should start school a year later, and there she will be able to learn everything she has to know, with other children of her age, but Erik finally convinced her about Mahtab can't go to public school, because of her looks, and anyway, she is too clever even now, they should not wait for one more year to start learning how to read and write – she would be too much bored. And boredom results in misbehaving as he found out, looking back at his own childhood.

- Erik will need Christine's help with this, my dear. – He confessed bashfully. – I can make her learn the alphabet to read, but writing, you see, isn't Erik's strong spot. He can't teach Mahtab to write nicely as he can't do it either. But Christine, his dear Christine has such a beautiful cursive.

- Oh, so you ask me to teach her to write. – Christine smiled.

- Yes, my dear. – Erik nodded. – We will teach her together.

Mahtab was so excited when her beloved Papa returned one day with a book under his arm and announced it was for her. She jumped up and down in excitement, and couldn't help but was curious of what that book was about. It was nice and colored, with many pictures in it.

- It is your ABC book, Mahtab. – Erik sat her on his lap. – You will learn how to read.

- So I will be able to read all books?

- Yes.

- All the books in the whole house? – She was shaking with great joy and excitement, looking around and her eyes met the numerous books that were placed on the endless bookselves around them in the house.

- All the books in the whole world, my dear child. – Erik smiled.

The ABC book became Mahtab's Bible. She carried it everywhere and was looking through it all the time, finding words starting by any chosen letter everywhere she went. She was able to read shorter texts in some weeks, and spell easier words in a few days. She was constantly practicing, she woke up and went to bed with spelling words. Erik liked the fact of his small girl being so hardworking about something she wanted to do, and encouraged her a lot, praising her if she spelled or read something right. Christine gave her a small notebook in which she wrote the letters of the alphabet at the beginning of each line with her beautiful handwriting, and asked Mahtab to try to draw them just as she saw in the beginning of the line. It was a way harder task to do than spelling and reading, but she was able to do it as well within time. But the notebook got full so quickly. She ran out of empty pages, so she had no more room to write to. But she found out what to do.

Suddenly Erik and Christine found marks of white chalk on the wooden floor in the drawing room, music room and even in the hall's stone floor. At first, they could not see anything out of it, but as they examined it more, Erik suddenly exclaimed in surprise.

- Christine, look! – He pointed at a spot under the piano, and he smiled widely as he recognized the words "Mahtab love Papa", readably written by a small hand on the floor.

Erik was actually happy that Mahtab found a chalk to write with. This child wanted to write so much that no one would be able to supply her with notebooks and paper. Chalk was easy to mop up from floors, the only thing Mahtab was told she wasn't allowed to write on any of the walls or furniture. She obeyed to these rules, so there wasn't any trouble coming out of her education in this field.

After Flo's first words, his vocabulary and talkativeness skyrocketed. Before he would not make too much noise, he hardly ever cried, just was babbling some, but at this time, he would never shut his small face. He would repeat everything, like a parrot, amusing, or slightly annoying Erik, but he knew that this was normal with a young child. Now there were two kids talking to him, from two sides. Mahtab was a more pleasant partner to converse with, as she had her own ideas as well, other than just repeating his words after him, but he adored his little son the same. Flo had a lower – pitched voice than Mahtab did, he sounded different, yet he had a sweet voice. Mahtab's was nothing special, just as any normal four year old girl's, but Flo already had a special kind of sweet ringing behind his, very childlike, yet already kind of "manly" voice.

Mahtab would help and guide her small brother around the house, holding his hand, which amused their parents a lot. She took care of him as Erik took care of her. She kept ordering him around, or reasoning why he shouldn't do something. Erik was happy to see that the siblings got along very well, he was afraid Mahtab would be jealous of her brother, but thankfully, the small girl thought Flo as a friend, like Cadence was for her, long time ago. Erik thought the automaton was at least good for one thing – it made Mahtab learn how to cope with another child. Flo, as he wasn't able to talk so well yet, called Mahtab "Maaah" for short, keeping the "a" up for long time. They played together a lot, Flo was following her around, and looked at her amazed when she practiced on the piano. He tried to walk closer and reach out for the keys, but he was yet too short to reach them from under the piano keyboard, and he fell back on his rear, sitting on the ground. He did not mind it too much, though. He sat under the piano, looking up with an amazed look, enjoying the music.

When summer ended, and Florian turned 2 years old, he showed broad hints of musical talent. Something that Mahtab did not. She loved to hit the piano with both hands, but she never sang, she only loved to hear her parents sing. Flo often hummed melodies he never heard before, while playing with wooden blocks and if Erik started to sing a melody, he was able to sing along and finish it. He could improvise, even at such a young age. Florian had perfect pitch, just like Erik. The proud father figured it out when Mahtab started playing the violin one afternoon, and her violin wasn't correctly tuned. Erik noticed it, but did not have time to warn the child, as Flo approached her and looked her in the eye, stating:

- Bad.

- What bad? – Mahtab asked.

- Baaad! – Flo exclaimed and hummed the right concert pitch A for Mahtab to offer help. – Good this. You do bad. Bad music.

- Papa! Flo says I am playing bad. – She looked at Erik, asking for defense.

- No, dear. He only stated you did not fully tune the violin. He is right. – Erik chuckled.

A musical offspring – finally! Erik was determined to develop Florian's talent as soon and as well as possible. They played music- based games together, with Mahtab and the small boy. Christine sang to the children as well, and they were the happiest in these times, when the whole family was together in the drawing room, or the nursery, singing songs or unnoticeably having music lessons together. Erik showed clapping rhythm, whistling, humming and singing to Flo. Music was Flo's favorite activity, just like Erik's. It was his life, to be precise. He would play drums on everything – on the top of the table, on plates, hitting a spoon against a filled glass, and kick his tiny feet against some surface to make up rhythm patterns. He was able to remember even more complicated melodies. Erik always imagined a life like this – singing together with his family until they swoon away with delight.

Christmas came, Christmas of 1890.

It was a Christmas with a huge snowstorm outside, it started at the evening of 24th December and it kept up on 25th morning as well, but the family's happiness couldn't be distracted by it. Florian was enjoying his toy drum he received as a Christmas gift, and Mahtab was so happy for the electric train set Erik made for her. It was so touching to see the children happily and delightedly playing together.

- Flo! Come and be the conductor, will you? Please.

- What to do? – He walked to Mahtab's side, examining the train set.

- Whistle when I turn it on! Trains go away only if someone whistles for them.

- Why?

- I don't know. – Mahtab shrugged. – It is just the way it is. Please whistle, I can't do it.

- Good. – Flo nodded, being happy that he got such a big and responsible task to do.

Erik chuckled softly as he was watching his children from his favorite armchair, but suddenly, the idyllic Christmas scene was distracted by a painful scream, coming from outside.

Erik jumped up from his chair nervously. And stormed out of the drawing room after briefly trying to convince the children of nothing was wrong and he would be back soon.

When he arrived in the bedroom, he was shocked to see Christine laying on the bed in obviously a lot of pain. Yes, she lay down half an hour earlier as she was feeling a bit under the weather, she complained about her stomach, but this, as Erik examined the situation, wasn't just her Christimas dinner didn't agree with her.

- Christine, what has happened? – Erik rushed to the bed, looking at Christine in horror.

- Erik… help…

- If only I knew what was bothering you… I could help… - His voice turned fainter and his hands were trembling with fear.

- Help! – She grabbed Erik's long fingers and squeezed them with so much strength, Erik was afraid she might break them.

Erik nearly lost his consciousness out of worry, but he knew he had to stay strong, because there was no way to get the doctor here from downtown, to the suburbs of Paris, in this huge of a snowstorm on Christmas day. Whatever the cause of this much pain was, he had to find it out and take care of his sick wife all alone.