Anne:
"No, dearheart, you can't help with the chocolate sauce right now. I need for you to go upstairs, give your face a good wash, comb your hair, and put on your good shirt from yesterday." I told my son.
"I can't do that, Mam." he said.
"Why not?" I looked up from the profiteroles I was filling. We'd only just got breakfast out the door, and lunch wasn't underway yet. After breakfast was when he'd said he would come, so he could be walking in any minute now. I wanted my boy to look his best when he met his Da for the first time.
"Cause I got grease on it from the cart axel yesterday, and you said as it wasn't like to come out—."
"Oh. That's right. I forgot. Put on—your blue and white striped one, then."
"It's too big."
"I know, but it could be as you've grown into it some, since Christmas."
"But whyyy?" he asked.
"Because. And I don't got to explain if I don't want, cause I'm the mother around here." I sent him up the stairs, pouting as he went. I went back to the profiteroles, and had half-a-dozen more filled when Virginié came in.
"Good morning." I greeted her. "How might you be this morning?"
"Very well, Madame. I'm here with a message from my grandmother. She would like to see you this morning."
"I've no problem with that. She can step over any time she pleases." I filled another profiterole.
"I—um, think she means for you to come to her, Madame." Virginié scuffed her feet on the floor.
"I'm afeared I'm a touch busy this morning, but I'll be more nor glad to speak with her, should she come over." I returned, and Virginié went back to the main house.
Madame Hussenot and I had been playing queen-of-the-castle for years now. She thinks as I should be at her beck and call, like all the maids and waitresses, and I don't agree. I like her right well, but I only go when called if there's inn business, or when asked as a guest of an evening. If she wanted to see me, she could take the trouble to come herself.
In some ways, it was a pity she should have to find out I was paying her wages. Things was comfortable the way they was, and after today, they would change. But there wasn't no other way of saying, 'My husband's come back, and he's going to live here, and that's just fine.'
I'd learned something last night, after being all worked up over what I was going to ask him. It began when I was listening to him talk. I don't know what it was about his voice, cause his son got his voice along of all the rest, but I started thinking I could really fancy him.
There isn't much I wouldn't do for my lad, and I never did want to end up all alone, with an empty bed of nights, and no one to send off in the mornings and welcome home of an evening, but I didn't know I was going to be looking forward to being his wife for my own self, and not just for the lad's sake. He kissed me, and though it started off as soft and innocent as any kiss my boy would give me, it became another sort of kiss right fast, and it was a good thing we was sitting, because I went all weak in the knees.
After he kissed me, it seemed just natural as I should kiss him again, to kiss him back, which I did, and if the first kiss was good, the second was better. My resolve to not give him anything more until we was married got tried somewhat.
I've wanted a lot of things in life. I wanted to be a cook, and a success at it. I wanted to be a mother. I wanted to be warm-hearted and generous and rich—if I could manage that last bit—but I never wanted to be pure. Even back when I still could have managed it, I never wanted that.
Of course, I never wanted all the mess what followed, neither.
Now if only he wouldn't never go looking down on me for being only a cook, and not having posh ways what come natural to me, like what he do, or for not being a better girl nor that I've been, maybe it would all come around right. Maybe…
But right now, I had profiteroles to fill, and after that, tea sandwiches to make. Madame Torval was having a tea party, and, her cook being notorious touchy, was having us cater it. Andrea, a waitress of ours, was going along to help serve, and so she was in the kitchen to have a look at what all was to be served.
"So if they ask for milk, do I pour it in before or after I pour the tea?" she asked, and slid her glasses up her nose again. "Some people say before, but as many say after, so does it really matter? Sometimes they get snobbish about it."
"Before is from the old days, when if you poured boiling hot tea into a cup, it might crack, so's you put in the cold milk first. But now china's tougher nor that, so it don't matter. I'd put it in after, so's they can tell you when there's enough. They won't snob at you, cause you're only the waitress. It's new acquaintances they'll judge."
"That's good to know…And if they want coffee, skip offering them lemon, but offer them cream instead." She looked at me to see if she'd got it.
"That's right. Cream's too rich for tea, but right for coffee. Some ladies might be on a reducing diet and want milk instead. Watch them—them's usually the ones what take two or three of everything, and then ask for coffee without sugar like they was being virtuous."
"I'll remember that!" she smiled.
"Madame Touchet?" It was Madame Hussenot, flushed pink from the walk over. "Might I see you for a moment, in private?"
I'd just finished filling the last of the profiteroles, so I put down my bag of pastry cream. "Happens as I can take a moment. Shall we go out into the garden? Minna, love, put these down in the cold machine, so's the filling don't melt." The look on Madame Hussenot's face told me something was up, and I'd just as soon nobody else heard.
Madame Hussenot and I went out into the morning. I looked over at the cottage, but I couldn't see no one. "What can I do for you, Madame?" I asked her.
"Madame Touchet—first let me say that I am not accusing you of anything—."
This didn't sound good.
"But, although your position here is important, you should still follow the rules regarding the conduct of female employees here at the inn, if only to set a good example for your girls. You were seen going into the cottage by yourself twice yesterday—once after dark, and you stayed there some considerable time. I know you were only speaking to M'sieu Makepeace, poor gentleman, who's too weak to sit up, but it still looks bad, especially since you didn't let anyone know where you were going." she finished.
"That it?" I asked, wanting to know if there was any more to follow.
"Yes."
""First off, thank you, Madame, cause we got to watch out for the young ones. We ought to live like what we want them to live, too. And you're right, I didn't let anyone know where I was going. But there weren't nothing improper in it at all."
"I never said there was!"
"Going to a man's lodging of a night is improper, no two ways to look at it, but not this time. M'sieu Makepeace—this isn't easy to say—Erik!" I'd looked back at the kitchen house. My son was shimmying down the oak tree. He wasn't wearing his blue and white shirt. He wasn't wearing no shirt at all. He looked at me, jumped the rest of the way, and hit the ground running. "Where're you going? Excuse me, Madame." I lit off after him.
Once it was as I loved running, but that was before I turned fourteen, and my chest got to be too big for that game. All that bouncing hurts some. "Where are you going?"
He ran me around the whole inn yard! We went around the hen house, at such a speed that the hens'd probably quit laying for a week, with his little legs pumping and his arms flailing, no shirt on, and his hair flopping as he went. And him with no shirt on, his chest showing white as flour, and his sides heaving from breathing hard.
We went up the little slope past the stables, through the carriageway, past the main house and through the rose garden. I had longer legs, true, but his pumped quicker, and I was getting a stitch in my side, not to mention that parts of me up top, what is attached permanent-like, was acting like they wanted to jump off and go flying on their own. After that, we turned the corner by the orchard and wound up behind the kitchen house again.
I caught up to him by the spring house. "What are you playing at?"
"I know why you want me to put on a nice shirt, and I don't want none of it! We're going somewhere, or somebody's coming here, like yesterday, and you're going to want me to meet him. I don't want to meet nobody. I don't like people!" I'd got hold of his arm, and he pulled at me. I scooped him up and walked back to the garden with him.
"Come on, you! Dearheart, it's all right!" I made my voice all pleasant and soothing, or as much as I could, seeing as I was winded. "I knows that M'sieu Roget wasn't nice, but everybody isn't like what he is. You liked Father Anselm, didn't you? You got to think of your education."
"I don't want any education! I'd have to go away and leave here, and I don't want that! You don't got an education, no more does Ame or Claude or Sophie, and I want to stay along of you for always." He was clinging to me, hiding his face against my shoulder. Just like his Da.
"There, dear!" I ruffled his hair. Madame Hussenot followed us back to the kitchen house. "No one shall make you get an education if you don't want one. But you still got to put on your nice shirt, and meet the gentleman what's coming this morning."
"I don't want to meet him. I already know everybody I want to know…" he sniffed. We reached the back door, and went inside, Madame Hussenot following after.
Monsieur Hussenot was in the kitchen, bouncing on the balls of his feet, and along side of him, looking tall and skinny as any rail, was the other Erik Touchet. He looked like he wasn't sure whether to stay or cut and run, too, just like the boy. He had his mask on his face and his hat in his hands. I didn't need to see his face to know that; it was all in how he was standing. M'sieu Khan was behind him, and their manservant was off to the side, watching.
"It's too late now, dearheart. He's here." I brushed the hair back from his eyes.
Near everybody in the kitchen was looking at us with big round eyes like soup plates, almost. Amelié was cutting bread for the tea sandwiches every which way, Claude was kneading the dough like it was going to bite if he didn't tame it, and Andrea was gripping the sides of her chair for dear life.
"Madame Touchet—this gentleman—he says he is—" M'sieu Hussenot began.
"I know who he is." I told him, shifting my little lad about so he rested on my hip. "Welcome home, my heart."
" Anne—my darling. I said that I would, and here I am." He stepped forward, till he wasn't more nor three feet from us, and said to his son. "Can you guess who I am?"
He gave his father a look like he knew his Da was trying to put one over on him. "You're M'sieu Makepeace. I knows your voice."
"I was only pretending to be M'sieu Makepeace. I am—I'm your father."
The silence in my kitchen was so thick I could have used it to spread on bread.
"You're my Da?" my boy asked, in wonderment, his brow creasing up.
"Yes. I am."
"Really my Da?" he asked again.
"Yes." Then the older Erik did something as brave as I've ever seen. He glanced around at the room, and then, real slow and careful, not wanting to do it—every line of his body said he didn't want to it—he took off his mask, and held it down by his side.
There was gasps and "Ohh's" out of everybody, and then…
I didn't expect what come next. My son launched himself off of me like I was a springboard he was diving off of, right at his Da, who dropped his mask and put out both arms to catch him. He put both arms tight round his father's neck and held fast.
A Trio of Sandwiches for Afternoon Tea:
To make up for the recent chapters without any recipes, here are three simple ones together!
Recipe #1:
Cream Cheese, Celery and Walnut
4 ounces cream cheese, room temperature
½ cup chopped celery
¼ cup chopped walnuts
Wheat or white bread, sliced thin for sandwiches
Process the cream cheese, celery, and walnuts together in a food processor until smooth. Spread on the bread, and make sandwiches. Cut the crusts off, cut the sandwiches into four triangles, put them on a pretty serving plate, and refrigerate for at least an hour before serving. While refrigerating, cover the plate with a lightly damp paper towel, to prevent them from drying out, as they would if left uncovered, or from getting soggy from condensation, as they would if covered with saran wrap.
Recipe #2:
Tomato and Cheddar
1 cup grated extra-sharp cheddar cheese
½ cup diced fresh tomato—home grown if at all possible
Mayonnaise
Wheat or white bread, sliced thin for sandwiches.
Combine cheese, tomato, and enough mayonnaise to moisten thoroughly in a bowl. The amount of mayonnaise you will need will depend on how juicy the tomato is. The filling should hold together like a good tuna or egg salad. Spread on the bread, and make sandwiches. Cut the crusts off, cut the sandwiches into four triangles, put them on a pretty serving plate, and refrigerate for at least an hour before serving. While refrigerating, cover the plate with a lightly damp paper towel, to prevent them from drying out, as they would if left uncovered, or from getting soggy from condensation, as they would if covered with saran wrap.
Recipe # 3
Smoked Salmon
4 ounces thinly sliced smoked salmon
4 ounces cream cheese at room temperature
2 tablespoons chopped fresh dill
Wheat or white bread, sliced thin for sandwiches
Combine the dill and cream cheese together in a bowl, beating the dill well in. Spread on the bread. Separate the slices of smoked salmon, and place a single layer on the sandwich bottom. Make sandwiches. . Cut the crusts off, cut the sandwiches into four triangles, put them on a pretty serving plate, and refrigerate for at least an hour before serving. While refrigerating, cover the plate with a lightly damp paper towel, to prevent them from drying out, as they would if left uncovered, or from getting soggy from condensation, as they would if covered with saran wrap.
Afternoon tea is one of the nicest ways of entertaining. It should be held in the afternoon (of course) and the refreshments can include not only hot tea, but iced tea, coffee, hot chocolate and lemonade, depending on your preference and your season. Usually it begins with finger sandwiches, several different kinds. Then scones are served, with whipped cream, lemon curd and jam or preserves, and then the dessert, which can be one large item like a cake or tart for everyone to share, or can be a variety of delicate little pastries, cookies, and candies like chocolate covered strawberries. If the hostess does not want to pour the tea herself, and has no maid or waitress, she can ask a friend with a steady hand to pour for her, which is an honor, as it means she trusts you not to break her cups or spill tea all over the table, her guests and yourself.
A/N: Sorry this one took so long to get to you, but it was a trying week, between switching over to a new computer system at work and having to get a new printer for the office at home. It should not take two days to install a new piece of hardware! I've been very tired at night. But here it is. I hope you enjoy it.
Shout-outs! Awoman, welcome back! You are absolutely right. There will be much more tension and drama to come, but first there will be a few chapters of 'honeymoon' so to speak, as Erik Sr. discovers what it is like to have a home life, (and while home life in the form of the inn discovers what it is like to have a resident Phantom, even if he's not actively haunting it!)
Satoshi: That's okay. I don't mind being thought daft, or having my fic thought it either. Thank you.
An Anti-Sheep Cheese Muffin: 400 reviews? 400 reviews! Thank you! What would you like as a reward?
Polly Moopers: Oh, I would never do that. Not to everybody. Not all at once, anyway…(big evil grin)
Lucia: Thank you! You can expect a proper answer tonight
Sarahbelle: It's too soon for a happy ending. Try and think of this as a happy middle. The drama will begin again in a few chapters.
MetalMyersJason: Yes, they will be married soon, once they get the good word from Father Anselm, which will be interesting for all concerned. And I do think Erik has found more than one reason to live. Thank you.
Rozzandmaya: Did you get my e-mail? 'Better than Byron, Coleridge and Wordsworth?' Oh, Joy!
Thornwitch: Thank you! Sometimes Nanny Ogg's phrases are just so apt, they come out. I do try to keep that under control. I'm not sure why there are so many passive, victimized heroines out there in fanfic, but I don't like them either. Why are there so many heroines like that anyway?
Erik for President: Did you like your personalized surprise in this chapter?
Bella: I agree completely. Sorry it's taking so long.
Ayezur: Thank you. It's very hard to get people to care about an original character, so your appreciation of Anne is a very great compliment.
HDKingsbury: I'm still waiting for you to turn up on R3—but you're still waiting for a proper e-mail. Maybe the two cancel each other out? Naah. I'll get caught up someday…
And (this was my most heavily reviewed chapter yet!) Thank you to Sat-Isis, Sue Raven, Lindaleriel, Nelygirl, Phantom Raver, Patricia, Madlizzy, Nota Lone, Butterfly Guitar, and Pickledishkiller. If I missed you, I am sorry.
Finally, if you like my work, I've started a new fic called Minion, about working for Doctor Doom (He's a disfigured genius in a mask who is even musically inclined, and I can e-mail you scans of him having an Erik moment.) Don't worry--this fic will continue!