Three weeks later, Erik was still toiling away at the crib, which by this point resembled some sort of weird modern art sculpture. Discouraged, he began to dismantle it so he could start over again. This was getting really old. He'd already had to rebuild it a couple of times. The first time, he had accidentally built the crib pieces into a giant birdcage. The second, it had simply fallen apart because several of the screws were missing. The third, Christine had decided she didn't like the color, dismantled it and packed it into a crate to be returned to the store, and then changed her mind about it ten minutes later.
When he was unable to pry the headboard apart, Erik finally gave up and scooped the pieces into his arms, carrying them downstairs. They were useless as furniture, but at least they'd make good firewood. However, halfway down the stairs, he was interrupted by an ear-shattering scream coming from the bedroom.
Erik sat the pieces down and worriedly ran back upstairs. "What? What is it Christine? Is the baby coming?"
The moment he entered the room, a glass figurine was hurled toward his head, missing him by about a quarter of an inch. "No, honey, I'm just practicing for the big screaming contest tomorrow!" she yelled at him, her voice dripping with sarcasm.
"Okay, okay, don't worry, I'll go get a doctor! Just try to stay calm." He ran down the stairs, taking a few minutes to chop the remains of the evil crib into kindling before he went for the doctor.
About a quarter of an hour later, he returned with a handcuffed, blindfolded old gentleman in tow. "Here we are." He ripped off the blindfold and wrapped a hand menacingly around the doctor's throat. "Doctor, this is my wife. She's having a baby, and you're gonna deliver it, and you're gonna keep your big yap shut about it, and you're gonna let me try on that nifty stethoscope you've got in your bag, or I'm gonna have to get nasty, you get it?"
Christine, by now in a lot of pain and feeling beyond cranky, reached up and smacked her husband in the back of the head. "Erik, did you kidnap this poor man? You idiot!"
"Hey, now," Erik defended, "as far as I'm concerned, if a disembodied voice suddenly appears in a theater known to be haunted and asks if there's a doctor in the house, anybody stupid enough to answer deserves what he gets."
"He's got a point, ya know," the doctor acknowledged. "Now, Monsieur, how about unlocking these cuffs so I can get to work?"
"Unlock the cuffs? How stupid do you think I am?"
Christine grabbed her husband by the collar, pulling his head down and hissing in his ear, "Do what the man says and get out of here before I strangle you with your own freaking lasso! And by the way, that whole plan I had about the six kids is OFF!"
Erik obediently unlocked the cuffs and stumbled out of the room, clutching his bruised throat and gasping for air. "I think I'm starting to rub off on that girl," he thought aloud.
He reluctantly sent word to Meg and Raoul about the baby, and they rushed right over. Meg had brought along her trusty new camera and three extra rolls of film. "I can't wait to get myself a picture of the ghost-baby to show the rest of the ballet rats. They're going to be totally floored!"
Raoul had brought two boxes for Erik that turned out to be full of bubble gum shaped like cigars. One box was strawberry flavored and the pieces had "It's a Girl!" printed down one side. The other boxful were blue-raspberry and said "It's a Boy!"
"What are you looking at me like that for? It makes perfect sense," the vicomte insisted. "The secondhand smoke wouldn't be healthy with an infant in the house."
They waited out in the hall for what seemed like forever, with Christine screaming some rather impolite words through the walls at Erik every few minutes. After nine hours of nervous pacing, six rounds of Go Fish with Raoul, and a couple of habitual shrieks from Meg, the doctor opened the door and waved the Phantom inside. "You can go in now, Monsieur."
"Finally!" Erik sighed with relief. "Here, Chagny, put these back on him for me and dump him in an alley somewhere, will you?" He shoved the cuffs and blindfold into Raoul's hands and bolted into the bedroom.
Christine, reclining on the bed with the baby in her arms, looked like she'd been drugged, beaten, thrown off a cliff, run over by a bus, keel-hauled, and then drugged again. He took a tentative step forward. "H-how are you feeling, honey?"
She didn't answer, just shot him a look that assured him she would be beating him senseless right now if she had the strength to lift her arms.
Erik coughed nervously. "I see." Then, eager for a change of subject, "So, can I see the baby? What was it, a boy or a girl?"
"Both! Erik, meet the twins!" She pulled the extra baby out from under the bed where she had been hiding him, and Erik began to hyperventilate again, choking on the piece of strawberry cigar gum he had been chewing. Christine snickered. "Hehehe, now we're even, buster."
After a few seconds of breathing into a paper sack, Erik got himself under control enough to go and have a look at his new kids. Christine smiled proudly, placing the boy in his arms and holding the girl out for him to see. "Aren't they precious, Erik? Look, they both look just like you. Well, aside from the whole hideous craniofacial deformity, but you know what I mean."
"What are you talking about? They don't look anything like each other." The boy was big and strong, with green eyes and chestnut brown hair, while the girl was rather pale and thin, with black hair and glow-in-the-dark yellow eyes.
"Oh, that. That's just because our girl here looks like Gaston-Leroux-you, and our boy looks like Gerard-Butler-you."
Erik was too worn out to question it. "I guess so. So what are we going to call them? We never did agree on a name."
"Angelique Seraphine and Eric Mephistopheles."
"I refuse to do that to my own flesh and blood."
"They're perfectly lovely names!" defended Christine.
"Absolutely not."
"I don't see what the problem--"
Erik held up his hands to silence her. "Christine, I'm putting my foot down. We are not giving them those awful names, and that's the end of it! I'm the man of the house and I have spoken!"
The following Sunday, Erik, Christine, and a few close friends were standing in a chapel to witness the baptism of Angelique Seraphine and Eric Mephistopheles Destler.
Erik had a gloomy scowl plastered to his face the entire time. He wasn't fond of churches, Christine's little friends from the ballet were staring at him like a caged freak, and the priest, who was very old and had shaky hands, kept slipping and pouring the ice-cold holy water on the Phantom instead of the children.
When it was finally over, Erik snatched Eric and Angelique from the arms of the Vicomte de Chagny, who had been named as godfather. That had been Christine's idea, too. Erik had tried to convince her that Nadir would be a better choice, but then he remembered that the daroga still had Ayesha at his house. He hated to think what would happen if he left his helpless babies in that house and they made the mistake of trying to borrow one of her chew toys. That had left Meg, who would probably sell the twins to the National Enquirer, Mme. Giry, who would cane them into an early grave, or Raoul.
"Come on, Christine," he called over his shoulder as he hurried toward the exit. "We've got to get the kids home and changed quick, before the memory of being forced to wear these little white lace dresses burns itself permanently into their minds."
Christine leaned over to whisper in the vicomte's ear, "I swear, if it were up to him, they'd both be crawling around in little black masks and capes, dressed like a couple of Goths just the way he used to be."
The next month or two was a blur. Erik (note the 'k') had always had irregular sleep patterns, but even he needed more than fifteen minutes a week. Eric (note the 'c') and Angelique seemed to be conspiring against their mother and father, because every time one would fall asleep, the other would start screaming. And on the few occasions they did manage to get both to quiet down at once, Pierre would screech out one of his random cries of "Adorable Psycho! Adorable Psycho!" and they would wake up screaming again.
One day (he was pretty sure it was sometime in April) he found the answer to their problems; sound-proof insulation for the nursery. He had been working on it every spare moment he had since the twins had been born, but it had been difficult to perfect the formula while working on fifteen minutes of sleep a week. Once it was finally done, he installed it in the twins' room, placed the babies in the bureau drawers they had been sleeping in, what with the crib in splinters and all, then locked the door and promptly passed out on the floor.
He hadn't been asleep more than five minutes, however, before he was awakened by more angry sobbing. "No!" he moaned miserably. "This can't be happening! That insulation was perfect! What the…?" He suddenly realized the crying wasn't coming from Eric and Angelique's room, but from his and Christine's. Frowning in confusion, he dragged himself down the hall and opened the door. Christine was weeping into a pillow.
He patted her shoulder gently. "What's wrong, dear?"
At this question, she only bawled harder.
"What? What is it?" He was starting to get really concerned now.
"You forgot our anniversary!"
"Huh?" That had been the last thing he was expecting. "How do you even know it's our anniversary? We live in a place where you can't tell night from day, and you used my only calendar to line that stupid bird's cage. Plus we've been delirious with exhaustion for the past month…or two months…or however long it's been."
"I still know today's our anniversary, and if you loved me as much as I love you, you would have too!" Christine burst into a fresh bout of tears.
Uh-oh. This wasn't going to be easy to worm his way out of. "I'm so sorry, my precious angel. I'm scum. I'm lower than scum. I'm the scum that grows on scum. If you could find it in your infinite wisdom and mercy to forgive me, I'll give you whatever you want."
"You're not worming your way out of this that easy!"
I might have known, thought Erik.
"I shouldn't have to tell you what I want," she continued. "You should know me well enough to figure it out on your own!"
"But I'm not a mind reader!" He began to regret the decision he had made in college, where he had only had time to earn twenty-six diplomas, and had had to stop pursuing his Master's degrees in both Mind Reading and Modern Dance.
Then, Erik remembered one of the degrees he had earned; Applied Hypnotism. Grinning wickedly, he fished his watch out of his pocket and dangled it in front of his wife's eyes. "You are getting sleepy."
She yawned. "I am getting sleepy."
"You are in my power."
"I am in your power," droned Christine.
"You are at my command."
"I am at your command."
"Now, what is it that you want for our anniversary?"
"A Tickle-Me-Elmo, a pair of tap dancing shoes, and a big chocolate cake all to myself. No, wait, make that a chocolate pie."
Erik raised his good eyebrow. Some of the things he heard when he hypnotized people could get very confusing. It often made him glad he hadn't finished learning to read minds. "Okay, now listen to me closely. When you woke up this morning, your darling husband Erik was waiting for you, shouting 'Happy Anniversary' and holding out a Tickle-Me-Elmo with a bright red bow around it's neck. You were thrilled. Then, after breakfast, he dropped the kids off at the vicomte's place and took you out tap dancing. He even bought you a shiny new pair of dancing shoes while he was at it. Then, on the way back to the vicomte's to pick up the twins, muggers stole your Tickle-Me-Elmo and new shoes. Your sweet, protective Erik tracked them down and killed them, but couldn't find the doll or the shoes anywhere. So, to cheer you up, he took you home and made you a big chocolate pie all for yourself. It was a perfect day, and you've never been happier. Okay?"
"M'kay," mumbled Christine sleepily.
"When I snap my fingers, you will awaken."
He snapped his fingers, and Christine immediately came to. She smiled adoringly when she saw him kneeling in front of her. "My darling husband Erik, I love you so much. This was the perfect day. I don't think I've ever been happier." She leaned in to kiss him, and Erik tried very hard not to smirk.
TBC…