updated 01-25-21
SEPTEMBER 1919
ERIK
As I danced to the last few notes of the song with Madeleine, pressing a kiss to her knuckles as it concluded, I couldn't help but frown and turn my head when I heard a conversation some of Lara's relatives were having.
"You know, I heard the rumours but I never thought they'd be true," said one while glaring over at Gustave, who was having a conversation with Lizzie.
"What rumours?" asked the other.
"Marguerite let her daughter marry an architect's boy. Look at him. How could he ever think he could marry up in this world beyond what he was born into?"
The woman she was speaking to looked genuinely shocked. "Dear God, are you serious? It's not like Marguerite to allow something like that."
"Apparently she tried to stop it while he was away during the war, but it clearly didn't work. We might want to keep an extra close eye on his family standing around our tables," she said as she gripped her handbag tighter while having the audacity to look at my family. "You never know what might happen with our purses. That boy has already weaselled his way into our family's coffers; who's to say that the rest won't try something?"
"Did Marguerite even think of how this will affect the rest of the family?"
The woman rolled her eyes before glaring over to Marguerite and Phillipe. "Obviously not. Oh, did I tell you what I heard about the boy's father?"
Just as I was about to walk over to them, teeth gritted and fists clenched, Maddie tugged me away again. "Erik, come here. I want you to meet someone," she said. She was clueless as to just how irritable I was at the moment, but she was also missing the fact that she was stopping a fight before it began. If only I had gotten about five more seconds, then I could have had some real fun. Though, as much as I wanted to snap back at those ostentatious nobles, I was glad that Maddie had been there; between her and Nadir, they were able to keep me level-headed. Sometimes more than they even realized.
"Sorry, what were you saying, Maddie?" I asked, finally pulling my attention back to my friend.
"I have someone I want you to meet. She's lovely," Maddie replied, smiling at me as we walked.
"She?"
Maddie nodded. "I really think you two will click, Erik. Her name is Julia and she's so sweet."
I quickly caught on to exactly why she wanted to introduce me to that woman and immediately started trying to escape. "Madeleine, I don't know about that."
"Oh, come on, Erik. It will be fine! You two can talk and get to know each other, maybe share a dance or two."
"No, Madeleine, I don't want to," I replied as I pulled my hand free of hers. "I can appreciate what you're trying to do, but no." I turned to walk away, only hearing her call my name one more time as I walked right over to Nadir and Adele, who were standing only a few feet away. "Nadir, please help. Madeleine is trying to set me up with someone."
"Oh, we're moving forward with that? You should talk to Julia - I have and she's very nice," Nadir said as he glanced across the room and gave Maddie a wave.
I couldn't help but stare at him in shock, my mouth agape as I realized that he was entertaining the idea of trying to set me up as well. I noticed Adele gave him a frown, which he ignored, but she seemed to have already talked to him about it and promptly disagreed.
"Traitor," I growled as I turned my back on the pair and scanned the room for a friendly face, eventually settling on Charles. I hurried over to him, almost hiding behind him, which he immediately noticed. "Hello, Charles."
"Erik, what are you doing?" he asked, a frown on his face.
"Hiding from your wife and my best friend, who are trying to set me up with a woman to dance with and get to know," I replied, still looking around the room in case Madeleine or Nadir tracked me down.
"You should do it. It could be fun."
"Oh, it's a whole conspiracy against me tonight, isn't it?!"
"We're just trying to get you to expand your horizons, that's all!" Charles said.
"What if I don't want to? You know, it's called a comfort zone for a reason; because it's comfortable!" I retorted.
"You're supposed to get out of your comfort zone, Erik!" Charles exclaimed.
"If I'm supposed to get out of it, it wouldn't be called a comfort zone! I am not letting you and the others set me up!"
"Oh good! You found him, Charles!" I froze, cursing any god that could hear me when I saw Madeleine walk up to us, Nadir and Adele behind her and a young woman who I could only assume was Julia by her side. "Erik, this is Julia Peters."
I looked over at the woman and forced myself to smile at her. She seemed nice enough, as everyone had said; a pretty face, dark hair that reminded me of Christine's, a similar height and body shape. It wasn't the same, though; it never would be, and I didn't want a replacement.
"Hello. You must be Erik. It's nice to meet you," Julia said, reaching her hand out in anticipation of me kissing it, which confirmed my suspicions about her having some sort of noble blood.
"Miss, I am sorry for the confusion, but whatever Madeleine has promised you on my behalf is not something that I am comfortable with. I'm sorry," I said, taking her hand and pressing a kiss to her knuckles for the sake of being gentlemanly despite how uncomfortable I was.
"Oh, that's alright, it-" Julia began, only to pause and shake her head as she looked at my hand and my wedding band by extension. "Of course you aren't comfortable with it. You're a widower, you mentioned it in your speech. I'm sorry for your loss."
I gave her a small smile, glad that she understood - apparently more than my friends did. "Thank you. Have a good night."
"Yes, you too."
I waited until she had moved out of earshot before I turned to my friends and looked at ten expectantly. "Well? Care to explain yourselves?"
"Erik...you could have at least danced with her once, talked a bit more," Madeleine said gently.
"I told you I didn't want to," I said firmly. "How is it that she understands that better than you do?"
"Erik, come on. We just thought you could make kind conversation with her and get a bit closer," Nadir said, insisting on pushing the matter forward.
I thought I noticed Adele squeeze his hand and whisper a few words to stop him, but I was too annoyed with all of them to care. "You should know me better. Both of you," I replied, looking between him and the woman on his arm.
"Erik, please," Adele began, reaching out and grabbing my hand, but I was quick to pull away from her grasp and walk away from them, in no mood to hear any sort of explanation.
As I walked through the tent, the head table being my final destination, I couldn't help but overhear a conversation that was remarkably similar to the one I had heard earlier, only it was between another three women who had supposedly come to the wedding in support of Lara.
"A month. That's my guess," one woman said, seemingly more interested in examining her fingernails than actually conversing.
"That's it? Not even at least two?" asked another woman.
"Are you mad? She'll figure out quickly that he can't give her what she needs! He's an architect. He'll work all day, come home dirty and exhausted, then expect her to make him dinner and clean up afterwards because he won't make enough to hire a maid!"
"You have a point. And you know that father of his won't be much help financially. You heard his speech - the house he gave them was a failed job. Failed! It makes sense if you think about it; who would want to hire a masked freak? I wonder what he hides under there."
I sighed as I watched the woman shudder at the thought of what I could look like. It was nothing new, but hearing it along with doubts that I could support my son made it sting even more. I wanted to move, to get away from their comments, but I found my feet cemented in place as if I needed to hear what else they would say.
"I've heard he's a monster in looks and personality," the third woman spoke up.
"Do you think Marguerite has seen it?" the first queried, her voice suddenly hushed.
"Oh, I doubt it. If she had, she'd have dragged Lara out of there as fast as possible. I would have done that if she was my daughter, in any case."
"Never mind what he looks like. I heard the boy was born out of wedlock. The Comte's little brother said something about that. I'll bet he just forced himself on some poor woman, then took the child," the second woman added.
My heart ached to hear their words, as false as they were. True, my son had been born to unmarried parents, but he was created in an act of love, not a forced, violent one. To hear them even suggest that I had taken advantage of Christine in that way broke my heart. Not to mention the anger that was steadily rising in me, spurred on by their comments and the fact that Raoul was running around defaming his own wife's name by revealing the fact that she had laid with another man and given birth to a child because of it. I was lucky he was nowhere to be seen; if he was, he wouldn't have lived long enough to tell another person.
"Anyhow, I give her a month before she runs back to her parents," the first woman continued, shrugging her shoulders nonchalantly. "People born into our lifestyle don't do well in other circumstances."
At that, thinking they were finally through with their mockery I turned to leave, only to freeze when I heard the third woman speak up again: "Well, however long she'll stay, at least they have the help around."
"And who's that?"
"That Oriental man they've allowed to be here. The fact that he was given the chance to speak is ridiculous, never mind his privilege as the best man. He should be holding a tray and serving us, not giving speeches."
"And he's here with that poor woman. He acts all sweet now, when we can see, but just wait; he'll get her alone, rob her blind, and when he gets his hands on her, he'll-"
With a growl, I turned my back and walked towards the head table, resisting the urge to strangle the three women with my bare hands. How dare they assume such a thing about Nadir all because of his race, his skin colour! I knew well that every word they said was wrong, but it still infuriated; for them to be lowering him to a simple servant who took advantage of women was the greatest insult I had ever heard, which said volumes considering the life I had lived.
My fists were still clenched as I approached the head table, but my frown only deepened when I saw Gustave sitting in his seat. "What are you doing here?" I asked as I walked over to him.
"Is the night almost over? I'm exhausted," he replied, rubbing his eyes as he spoke. "I want to leave and sleep, where's Lara?"
I chuckled to myself. "You won't be sleeping tonight, Gustave. You won't want to, she won't let you, a combination thereof."
"What do you mean she won't let me? She knows how I get when I'm tired."
"As do I, but believe me, you won't be all grumpy and annoyed after tonight, believe me."
"Good lord, you are so cryptic some- oh," Gustave said, his eyes widening slightly as he finally clued in to what I was hinting at, then laughed awkwardly as he ran his fingers through his hair. "R-right."
"You're lucky you're already married."
"Thank you for that."
"Now do you understand?" I asked.
"Yes, I understand. I suppose that would happen tonight, wouldn't it?" my son replied.
"Now that I would know for certain, but I have been made aware that that is the procedure," I said.
Gustave laughed quietly. "The procedure? How delicately put," he said.
"Well, how else would you have me put it at such a public gathering?" I retorted with a roll of my eyes.
"I don't know! Procedure just makes it sound so...cold, I suppose."
"Not the intention."
"I know it wasn't, I'm just saying," Gustave replied. "I don't know how else you'd put it, though. I know you and I know you're not going to just flat out say it."
"Not on my life," I said with a shake of my head.
"I know, I know. I'm sort of appreciative, honestly, I don't know how I'd feel about you actually saying anything flat out," Gustave said.
"Well, it's a good thing that it won't happen."
My son nodded, laughing quietly as he looked over at me. "Indeed. But now you've clued me in about my own wedding night, so that's...good, I suppose," he said. "Do you really think I won't sleep at all? Not even a little?"
I paused for a moment to phrase a question to help my son finally understand how his wedding night was going to go in a somewhat delicate manner. "Do you two have a hotel for the night? Or are you going right to the train station?" I eventually asked.
"We booked a hotel room," he replied, a confused look on his face.
"You'll sleep on the train," I said with a nod.
"Okay, noted. You seem rather confident about that notion."
"Do you really want to be asking that question?"
"Do I not want to be asking that?"
"No, you really don't," I replied.
"Why not? Would it just embarrass you?" Gustave asked, a smug grin on his face.
I rolled my eyes. "Gustave, I am not above telling embarrassing stories, but there is still a crowd here tonight and I am more than capable of getting their attention."
He immediately flinched and shook his head. "Okay, don't do that. The subject we're discussing is a rather delicate one."
"Did you hurt yourself with that flinch?" I asked with a chuckle.
"No, no, I'm fine, thank you very much," he replied. "No stories necessary, I know you have at least some authority on the subject."
"Your existence would be questionable otherwise," I pointed out.
"Very true," Gustave said with a nod. "You know, now that you've brought up the inevitable events of later this evening, I find myself a bit nervous thinking about it."
I reached over and set my hand on his shoulder. "You will be fine. If those few times I nearly caught you two mean anything, you have nothing to worry about."
"Nearly is the key word there, you know."
"I know that."
"So nothing actually happened. Which gives me cause to worry," Gustave replied.
"There is nothing for you to worry about, honestly."
"It's sort of a big step, I'm going to be a tad nervous."
"And so will she. Just don't overthink."
Gustave simply gave me an unimpressed look. "I'm your son. I believe it is built into my genetics to do that," he said.
"I know that, which is why I'm telling you to try not to. It won't help you in the actual moment if you're shaking in your boots," I replied.
"You know, I think we can both agree that this topic isn't an enjoyable one for either of us."
"It's not, but I also am trying my best to be a good father and help you when you're nervous about something like this. Mostly because I don't want to be at home and get a distressed phone call from you in the middle of the night when things aren't going well." What I meant by that, I couldn't really say, but if I could manage, I'd like to avoid getting a panicked phone call in the middle of the night from my son on his wedding night.
"That is a far cry from what would happen," he said.
"Depending on your desperation if things aren't going well, I wouldn't write it off completely."
My son rolled his eyes. "I am not completely helpless without you, believe it or not."
"I know you're not, but nerves make things difficult," I replied.
"I cannot believe we are still walking about this," Gustave sighed.
"Neither can I, quite honestly," I said with a nod.
"Here's a fantastical idea. We should stop."
"Good plan," I replied. "So let's go back to your original point instead about the fact that you're tired; Gustave, this is your wedding. Enjoy yourself until the moment it's over. You won't want to look back and have the memory of sitting at the table for most of the night."
"Well, from the looks of things, you aren't in the best shape either."
I sighed, vouching to keep the gossip I had heard to myself despite how much it was eating away at me. "Yes, well, I'm a bit irritated with my friends. They tried to set me up with a lady to dance with and 'get to know'."
"Oh, dear. How did that go?" Gustave asked with a quiet laugh.
"I politely apologized on their behalf for leading her on and told her I was uncomfortable with it," I explained. "I never intended to dance with her from the start."
"Well, I could have told them that," Gustave said. "Did she seem disappointed?"
"She understood more than they did! She recalled me saying your mother had died and understood why I was uncomfortable getting to know another woman. We said our goodbyes and that was that."
"I'm sure they didn't mean any harm, Papa."
"Yes, I know they didn't, Getting me out of my 'comfort zone,' Charles said," I said with a baffled look.
Gustave nodded. "I understand where you're coming from Papa, but someone once told me that a sheltered life is no life to lead," he said, referencing the words I had said to him so many times before.
I frowned as he said it. "Are you trying to say I should have danced with her and gotten to know her better?"
"I'm not outright saying it. I know your reasons for declining and respect them. Still, I may be implying that I think you could get out more and meet some new people. I understand if you don't want to, but you could make a new friend potentially. No one is saying you have to court anyone, Papa; our family is perfect, but I just want you to be happy," Gustave explained.
"I'm at my son's wedding. How could I not be happy?" Even as I said it, though, I knew my irritation and discomfort were blatantly obvious; I was going between fiddling with my ring to reaching up to the collar of my shirt to look for the chain with Christine's ring, despite knowing that it wasn't there.
My son had clearly noticed because when I looked back at him, he was pulling the chain and ring out from the collar of his shirt. "I noticed that it looks like something was filed off of the inside. Writing of some sort," he observed as he turned the ring over in his fingers to look at it.
"Yes, there was. Little Lotte, 1896. His name for her and the year they married," I said with a nod. "I wanted to keep the ring, but not that reminder of him and what he had done, so I filed the inscription away."
"Understandable." At that, Gustave took my hand and gently set the chain and ring in my palm. "This was a great help, Papa. It was nice to have her with me today, but you need Mother right now. I can tell."
I gave him a small smile as I slipped the chain over my head and tucked it into my collar again. Looking up, I raised a brow when I saw my friends walking over, looking rather sheepish. "Hello," I said as they finally reached the table.
"We're very sorry, Erik. You said you were uncomfortable and we should have listened," Maddie said, looking at me with a hesitant smile.
"We should have respected your wishes," Adele added. I honestly hadn't expected her to apologize after she had tried to stop Nadir, but I still appreciated it.
"It's alright," I said with a nod. "I was very sensitive and overreacted a bit. All is forgiven."
"It isn't the first time and it won't be the last," Nadir said, only to wince and turn his head when Adele pinched his arm. "I'm kidding, for the record."
I laughed at the interchange and nodded. "I know you are. Still, thank you for that, Adele. Perhaps you'll knock some sense into him."
At that moment, Lara walked over to all of us with Lizzie in her arms. "Someone is requesting a dance from her godfather," she said, smiling over at me.
"Please, Uncle Erik?" Lizzie asked. "You said we would dance again."
"I did say that, didn't I?" I said, still hesitating for a moment before shoving my own feelings aside and getting to my feet. "You are the one lady tonight who I will never refuse to dance with, come on."
With a squeal that dissolved into giggles, Lizzie leaned towards me and kissed my cheek as I took her from Lara and whisked her off to the dance floor, our friends trailing behind us. "Can I stand on your feet to dance, Uncle Erik? I danced with Gustave like that."
"Yes, I think that's a good idea," I said, setting her down on the ground and holding her little hands in mine as she stepped on top of my feet. She was a small girl, her weight slight; everything about her pointed to her being just like her mother more and more every day.
I kept her hands held in mine as we slowly started to sway back and forth to the music. Our height difference was laughable as we danced and I had to bend over quite a bit to even hold her hands. Even though I knew my back would ache the next morning, the smile on my goddaughter's face made it well worth it. And looking up at my son and daughter-in-law, watching them smiling wide as they danced together, I knew that the night had been even more perfect than they could have ever hoped for, and for me, that made every incident that night worth it.
The night flew by after that and before I knew it, the guests had gone home and it was only myself, the Chagnys, Nadir and Adele left to say our goodbyes to the bride and groom before they left for their honeymoon. I hung back as everyone else said goodbye, shuffling my feet awkwardly as I waited, but finally looked up as I noticed Philippe and Marguerite walk away. I smiled at Gustave as I walked up and gave him a tight hug.
"Have fun, my boy. Please be safe while you're away," I said. The last time I had seen him off when he was leaving for a faraway destination was when he had been deployed for the war, so I was battling with keeping my own anxiety at bay as I thought about letting him go again.
"Yes, I know. We'll be safe, I promise," Gustave replied, leaning back to smile at me. "We'll bring you back a little something. A trinket from Italy."
"Gustave, you've just got me a cat. You don't need to get me something else," I said with a laugh. "Hearing your stories will be good enough for me. Not to mention that I lived in Italy for three years. I know the country well."
"That's why I'm excited to go - to see the country you lived in!" Gustave said with a wide smile. "Do you know if the family you lived with is still there? Perhaps we could try and reconnect with them."
A smile crossed my face at the idea; to think of my son and the family of Giovanni, the only father I had ever known, reuniting with common stories was a pleasant thought, but I knew that it wasn't possible. "As lovely as that would be, I haven't heard from the family since I was fifteen; I wouldn't be able to tell you where to start. Just go and enjoy the weather, enjoy the history of the country."
"Oh, we certainly will. I can't wait to see everything," Lara said as she walked over to give me a tight hug.
"Yes, enjoy your visit. You'll love it, Lara, the country is just beautiful," I said.
"Do you have any suggestions for what we should try and see?"
"Well, I think the Colosseum is a given when you're in Rome, but visit the Villa Medici. It's a palace, but it has long been a school for musicians, artists, and architects. I had hoped to study there as a younger man, but my mother was far from keen on the idea and the opportunity never arose again. Go see it, though; the architecture and the history of it all are stunning."
"In that case, we will be certain to visit and tell you all about it," Gustave said with a smile. "Take care of little Ayesha while we're gone. Don't let Sasha get too jealous."
I scoffed at the remark. "Have you met Sasha? She'll be jealous any which way I go about introducing the two of them to each other."
"Well, have fun with the two of them. And keep an eye on the new lovebirds," Lara said, gesturing to Nadir and Adele
"Yes, I'll make sure they behave," I replied, laughing as I watched Nadir shake his head at the remark to brush it off, though the faint blush on his cheeks gave away his embarrassment.
"You two had better be off. You wouldn't want to be late to catch your train in the morning because you were up too late," Adele said as she smiled at the couple and gave them a knowing wink. "Go on. Enjoy your trip."
"We will. Thank you," Gustave replied with a laugh before he gave me another hug. "Goodbye, Papa. We'll see you soon."
I nodded as I pressed a kiss to his temple. "I'll see you when you get home. I love you."
"I love you too, Papa."
And with that, they were off, hurrying down the path hand in hand to where their carriage awaited to bring them to their hotel for the night. It was then that it seemed to click; my son was married. The prospect of that much time has gone by, not to mention the sudden ache in my heart at the thought that Christine hadn't been there to see it all made for a vicious mix of emotions running through me.
My anxiousness must have been obvious, as I turned my head and snapped out of my own thoughts when Nadir set his hand on my back. "Don't think about it too much, Erik," he said. "Look to the horizon; new memories with your daughter-in-law. Grandchildren. A lot of beautiful things are going to come from this."
"I know, and I look forward to it. It's just hard to watch him go," I said with a sigh, fidgeting with my ring as I forced myself to smile at my friend. "But I'm happy for him."
"I know you are. We all are. Now, do you want to grab your new little kitten and we'll share a taxi with you? Adele and I are going to head home as well," Nadir said.
"Eager to get back, are you?" I teased. I laughed when I ended up getting punched in the arm - which I honestly deserved - but that quickly became a gasp when I heard what he muttered about me in Persian under his breath. "Well, that was rude."
"Stop asking for it, then. Grab your cat and let's go."
"Fine, fine," I replied, mumbling an equally rude remark in French as I turned to pick up Ayesha out of her little gift box.
Nadir turned to me and shot me a glare. "If I understood that, I'd kill you."
"Keep dreaming, Daroga."
I opened the front door to my house and stepped inside, barely having time to close it again before Sasha barreled down the stairs to greet me at the door. "Yes, hello," I said, laughing as I felt the kitten I was holding scramble up my chest to tuck herself into the crook of my neck, clearly not too pleased with Sasha's barking.
I finally got the dog to quiet down as I bent down to let her inspect the kitten, only to laugh when she sniffed her and turned her nose up. "Get used to her, Sasha. She's your new housemate."
As Sasha scurried off to the kitchen, I slipped my shoes off and stood in the foyer for a moment to take in my new situation; the same eerie silence I had hated with a passion when Gustave was deployed had returned, albeit under more joyous circumstances. I sighed, trying not to let melancholy set in. The night had been incredible and my son was married to the love of his life. There was no reason to be sad, really, and yet, I found myself digging up excuses for the sadness I was feeling.
I walked up the stairs, intending to get Ayesha settled for the night and getting the rest I needed, but I found myself unable to walk past my son's room without stepping inside. I turned on the lamp on his nightstand and set Ayesha on the bed, watching as she walked to the headboard and curled up on the pillow. I looked around the room then, my attention immediately drawn to his bookshelf. I admired the collection he had built up over the years as I ran my fingers along their spines. He had lost his mind when he discovered Sherlock Holmes, collecting every one of the books he could get his hands on. The Hunchback of Notre Dame had always interested him, as had Les Misérables. He had finally accomplished his goal of completing it, even if that had entailed him putting it down and returning to it three times in total. Lara and I, on the other hand, had raced to finish; she won by two chapters and had yet to let me forget it. Gustave had considered joining us but bowed out within the hour when he saw the page count of the book. Besides that, though, classical romances had always intrigued him; the likes of Pride and Prejudice, Anna Karenina, and Wuthering Heights. Yet another contrast between him and his wife; while he loved the classic tales of love, Lara adored tales of adventure like The Three Musketeers and Heart of Darkness. Opposites truly did attract in their case.
As I looked at his books, one, in particular, caught my attention. A well-worn one that had lost its spine, but I knew right away which one it was before I pulled it off of the shelf. The Wonderful Wizard of Oz; a classic tale that I had come to love after reading it to Gustave time and time again, its magic and whimsy having grown on me over the years.
Gingerly, I set it back on the shelf to not damage it further, then turned my head to look around the room as a whole, still full of his belongings despite the packing we'd already done. I saw Gustave's desk covered in a smattering of papers; most definitely my son. On top of his chest of drawers sat the music box that I had made for him back on Coney Island, still in working order and a favourite of Lizzie's. Framed photographs of William, Christine, and Lara, as well as one of Gustave and myself, sat beside the music box. As I walked over to the bed to sit with Ayesha, I saw the famed original drafts of the Opera House, the Palais Garnier, that hung above it, signed by none other than Charles Garnier. Gustave had been practically giddy when he had found them, which I had come to possess after befriending Garnier himself once I had returned to Paris as a younger man, and had insisted on framing and hanging them. I certainly couldn't object; the Opera House was a marvellous creation, even if it could have been much more magnificent had I been available to offer my input.
Before I sat down, I turned to look at the wall next to the bed and ran my fingers over the white stars and comets that Gustave and I had painted together years ago. For us, though, even such a small task like that was...messy.
"I finished the stencils for the stars the other day, and I threw a few comets in there as well, so we can finally get to painting," I said as I set up a small bowl of white paint and passed it to Gustave. "Do you know how you'd like it to look so we have an idea?"
"Not really. I just know I want them to be all over this part of the wall," Gustave replied, giving me a toothy grin.
"Well, that can certainly be arranged. Let's get started."
I turned to pick up my own bowl of paint, then selected a stencil to use, but by the time I turned back, my eyes went wide as I looked at my son. He had dragged over the chair from his desk and was standing on it to reach higher up on the wall. Immediately seeing how that could go wrong, I set my paint supplies down and put my hands on his waist to hold him steady. He seemingly didn't understand why I was doing that because he turned to give me a confused look.
"Papa, if you're holding onto me, only one of us will be working and this is going to take forever," he said.
"I don't want you to fall and hurt yourself. Standing on a chair is far from the safest option to boost yourself up so you can paint," I replied.
"I promise I'm being careful."
"I know you are, but I still don't want you to fall. This is supposed to end well, not with a trip to the doctor."
"And this was supposed to be something fun for both of us. How are you supposed to have fun and worry at the same time?" he asked. The mildly concerned look on his face told me, plain and simple, that he was genuinely worried about me not enjoying what we were doing together and I hated to see that.
I sighed, wanting to make things right as fast as possible. "Do you promise you'll be very careful if I let go?" I asked him.
"I promise," Gustave replied with a firm nod.
"Okay, okay. I'll let go and help," I said, nodding back at him.
His eyes lit up and he gave me a quick hug before he turned back to the star he'd been painting. "Paint a shooting star, Papa," he requested.
"Alright, a shooting star it is. Just be careful," I said as I grabbed the appropriate stencil to start painting a comet.
"There's nothing to worry about, Papa."
"I know I'm being overly cautious, but I'm still new to this whole business of being a father. I'm going to be nervous."
"And I'm telling you not to be."
"Alright, I will try and stop. Just paint that star and I'll start on the comet," I said, throwing my hands up in surrender for a moment before I started to paint.
Hardly any time had passed when I glanced back up and felt my breath catch in my throat when I saw Gustave on the edge of the chair, standing on the tips of his toes to reach higher up. I immediately jumped up and set my hands on his waist again, making him frown at me.
"You said you'd stop," he said.
"And you said you would be careful," I retorted.
"I am being careful, Papa, what do you mean?" Gustave asked.
"Going on your tiptoes on the edge of a chair is not what I would call careful," I pointed out.
"Papa, I can't reach if I'm not on my tiptoes."
"I'm taller than you. Need be, I can get the ones up there."
"But I want to do it," Gustave protested.
"Don't put yourself in potentially harmful situations in the name of such a simple thing," I said with a quiet sigh. The debate was going on for much longer than I had anticipated.
I watched the boy as he thought for a moment, trying to find a solution to our dilemma. Finally, though, an idea dawned on him: "What if you put me on your shoulders? That's safer than my tiptoes, isn't it?"
Certainly not the suggestion I had expected him to make. "Gustave, I appreciate that you think that I have the upper body strength to do that," I said, laughing a bit at the assumption.
"You are strong, Papa. I think you can do it," he replied. "I'm not that heavy."
"I honestly believe your idea to be riskier than what you're doing right now."
"Really?"
"Yes, so I'll let your current method continue," I sighed.
The boy nodded. "Okay. I'll be careful, I promise," he said.
"I would appreciate that for the wellbeing of us both," I replied.
"I will be, don't worry. Keep painting your star." With a nod, I carefully let go of his waist and crouched down to resume the painting I was doing before, all while watching him out of the corner of my eye.
My efforts, however, did not go unnoticed: "I can see you trying to watch me and not panic."
"I am not trying to do anything," I replied as I worked.
"It's not good to lie, Papa," Gustave said, looking at me with a frown.
"You have a point there, but I'm not lying, so it's fine."
"That makes two."
"Okay, so maybe I am worried, but I want you to be safe. I'm your father, that's my job, so just leave me be," I said, getting to my feet and tapping his nose with a paintbrush, a smear of white paint left in its wake.
He looked at me in shock, but that quickly faded into a mischievous smile. "You do know what this means, don't you?" he asked.
"What does it mean?" I inquired, a smirk on my face as I noticed the sparkle in his eyes while we toyed with each other.
"This means war!"
My eyes went wide and I stumbled back when he hopped off his chair and stepped towards me, brandishing his paintbrush. "Oh no, not war!"
"You fired the first shot!" Gustave exclaimed, giggling through his words.
"That doesn't mean I wanted it to escalate!" I retorted. "Gustave, come on, we'll get paint everywhere."
"Are you afraid?" he taunted, the same smug grin glued to his face.
"Of getting paint everywhere, yes. Of you coming at me with a paintbrush? Not so much," I said,g glancing behind me as he backed me into a corner.
"Oh really? Because it sounds like you're afraid of both," Gustave replied, waving his paintbrush in an attempt to threaten me.
"No, I'm not," I repeated. "Now, why don't we go back to peacefully painting like we were before, hm? What do you think?"
Instead of giving me a verbal response, Gustave came right up to me and smeared paint on my unmasked cheek. I couldn't help but gasp which, in turn, made him giggle.
"Oh, now it's war," I said, tickling his side so I could rush past him to retrieve my own paintbrush and retaliate.
I laughed quietly to myself as I looked at the splatters of paint all over the walls. He had insisted that it not be painted over, as he adored the memories associated with them. Sitting down on the bed, I scratched Ayesha behind the ears as I reflected on those memories from when Gustave was young and realizing that it truly was the end of an era. It almost felt like my duty as a parent was done; my son had gotten married and would be moving out to start a family of his own. My nest was empty, as people said. I no longer had anyone to hurry out of bed in the morning because he was late for school; I wouldn't have to remind him a hundred times a day to make his bed; I wouldn't be responsible for making sure his tie was straight, that his hair wasn't sticking up in a million different directions. All of that was his responsibility now. My son, my little boy - mio soldatino - had become a young man...when had that happened?
Another thing that only added to that feeling of shock was the prospect of becoming a grandfather. That could become a reality sooner than later; Lara could be pregnant by the time they returned home and they could have a son or daughter in nine months' time. My son could be a father himself; his child could be calling me Grandpa in just over a year. But I wouldn't go by Grandpa if and when that happened, and I knew that for certain; years ago, Giovanni had told me he wanted me to take the title of Nonno should I ever have a grandchild. He had always wanted grandchildren but had yet to experience it at that point, so I believed he wanted to live vicariously through me. I was not going to deny him that request, so if and when a grandchild arrived, Nonno was to be my title.
It pained me even more that Christine hadn't been able to watch our son grow up into the incredible young man that he had become. She would have been so proud to watch him go off to secondary school, she would have cheered the loudest after he performed her famous aria from Hannibal. She would have given him the tightest hug when he was deployed and an even tighter one when he returned. At the wedding, she would have cried...she would have adored Lara. And yet, none of that was possible thanks to me and my inability to keep my mouth shut. It was a miracle that I hadn't managed to make a mess of Gustave's relationship with Lara in the same way.
Sasha hopping up onto the bed snapped me out of my self-deprecating thoughts, focusing instead on the dog's attempt to acquaint herself with the kitten cuddled up beside me. Sasha's first instinct was to wedge her snout between my hand and Ayesha, demanding that I scratch her behind the ears instead.
"You can't be jealous, Sasha. You two have to get along. I won't forget about you," I said, giving her the scratches that she was demanding. I watched her as she nudged the kitten with her nose, only for Ayesha to hiss and bat her nose with her paw, which made Sasha growl in response. I was quick to tell her off and set the kitten on my lap, but it was then that everything seemed to fall into place.
This was a new life that I was to be the guardian over. Ayesha's presence helped me realize that my role as a father would never end. Gustave was an adult and would need guidance - that wasn't to say that I really knew what it meant to be an adult, but I could surely provide some help. No matter how old a child got, they would never stop needing their father. Nadir's words from earlier in the night echoed in my mind: "Look to the horizon; new memories with your daughter-in-law. Grandchildren. A lot of beautiful things are going to come from this." Only then did I recognize the truth in that statement. Lara had become just like a second child to me; the daughter that I never had but wished I did have. She had filled part of the hole in my heart, making it the slightest bit easier to cope without Christine. Not to mention the prospect of grandchildren; as old as it made me feel, it was incredible to think that Gustave could be a papa just as I was. The thoughts brought a new smile to my face at that moment. There was still so much to come, and I knew that my tears over the past wouldn't be able to stop my smile for the future.
* While this fic is heavily based on Phantom by Susan Kay and, in that novel, Erik did assist in the construction of the Palais Garnier, his age as it stands in Phantom did not work with our timeline. Therefore, dates were changed and moved up in time, so in our timeline, Erik would not have returned to Paris from Persia and the rest of his travels, but we compensated with the idea of him having befriended Garnier once he returned.
