"The rest of the afternoon is now ours," Christine adjusted Gustave's hat. He made a face as she did so. "Now young man, Charlotte has her bonnet, I have my hat and you will have yours. The sun is still out."
"But Papa said Charlotte isn't to wear her bonnet anymore."
"When inside, she needs protection outside. Now do you want ice cream before dinner or not?"
"Ice cream!" Gustave exclaimed opening his mother's dressing room door and running down the corridors to the backstage door.
Christine looked down at Charlotte in the baby carriage, biting on her teething ring, drool running down her cheek and onto her bib. She smiled up at her mom and held the teething ring up at her in her little chubby hand.
"Oh, look at you, you are a complete mess," Christine smiled back as she used the bib to wipe her daughter's face. Charlotte giggled and cooed before sticking the teething ring back in her mouth. "Now to the boardwalk."
Christine pushed the carriage through the same corridors to the backstage door where she found her son waiting. As soon as he saw his mother, he opened the door and held it open for her. But his visions of ice cream and boardwalk games were quickly dashed by row of reporters and photographers waiting in the blinding sun.
"Mrs. Y, is true you have been hiding your daughter from the press and fans because she is deformed?"
"My exclusive source says Mr. Y is as deformed as the freaks he makes his money off of and that he's only using you to elevate his art. Care to comment?"
Christine tried to push the carriage past but they kept after.
"Do you think Mr. Y wants to use your voice for his art and your womb to birth more freaks? Our sources say your daughter shouldn't even be alive."
"Leave my sister alone!" Gustave ran up to that reporter and knocked the notebook out of his hand. That stopped everyone stopped in their tracks. "Papa says she's just a baby, she can't help it!"
"Gustave!" Christine cried.
During those few seconds while Christine was distracted, a photographer walked up to the carriage from the other side, but before he could get a good enough angle into the carriage, Charlotte picked up her rattle. Christine turned around instantly.
"How dare you!" She slapped the man. "How dare all of you! Come onto my husband's park, insult and harass his wife and children! I shall see that none of you are ever allowed back!"
"I will make sure you shall never write another review or article!" Mr. Y's voice boomed.
When Christine turned towards his voice, she saw her husband had one of the reporters in a rope noose leaning up against his body. Visions of the past right before her eyes. "Erik, no!"
The rest of the reporters went silent. A few people walking by stopped and watched. Gustave ran over to his mother and hugged her tight; he'd never seen his father in such a state.
"Now that I have your attention and your colleague's life in my hands, may I highly suggest you end your obscene questioning, accosting of my family and leave my property. Do that and I will spare your fellow truth seeker here."
"Erik, let him go now!" Christine spoke firmly.
Mr. Y looked at his son, his face buried in his mother's skirt before meeting Christine's burning eyes. He stopped pulling on the noose and slid it off the man's neck. The reporters and photographers cleared leaving an awkward family portrait for the remaining onlookers.
"They were being mean to Charlotte!" Gustave ran over to his father and hugged him. "I'm sorry! If I hadn't slapped that notebook, you wouldn't had to do that! I was just being brave for her, Papa!"
Christine's heart ached as she watched this scene but she focused on the lasso still hanging from Erik's hand as he embraced the boy. She shivered, "Gustave, come on. Papa has to get back to work. And I promised you ice cream did I not?"
They both walked back over to her and as they did Mr. Y spoke, "Make sure he gets extra for being such a brave big brother." As Gustave looked down at his sister, the exposed side of Mr. Y's face pleaded with this wife.
"Get rid of it, Erik. I don't want to see it again."
He nodded, "May we talk tonight?"
She smiled sadly at her husband, "Of course."
"Go by Boris and tell him per my instructions he is to spend the rest of the day with you," Mr. Y spoke firmly.
The Soprano sighed. She did not want the security of The Russian Strong Man.
"I will hear no objections after what just happened."
"Boris is spending the day with us?" Gustave looked up at his parents. "May I ride on his shoulders?"
"Yes." Erik said the same time his wife emphatically exclaimed "No!"
Erik looked at his wife and then at his son, "Listen to your mother, Gustave. I will see you tonight."
When Erik entered his home, he heard Gustave playing the piano; practicing one of the new pieces he wrote. He son was truly a musical genius just like his parents to get it so fast. As he entered the parlor, Christine's cream colored dressing gown spread out behind her on the Turkish rug as she sat on it. When he walked around to face her, he saw Charlotte propped up against her leg stacking wooden block into random columns.
"If she keeps that up, she'll be designing for me in no time."
"I doubt anything she's making will stand," Christine placed a block on top of on the towers. Charlotte grabbed it, brought it to her mouth and started to chew on it. "Especially if that's how she's going to treat the building material."
Erik chuckled as he watched his daughter gnaw on the block. He sat down slightly diagonal from Christine on the floor. He started building with the blocks the silence thick between them. Charlotte broke it by tossing the drool covered block destroying what Erik had just built up. Both her parents laughed and in response Charlotte laughed as well.
The Phantom cleared his throat before speaking, "You see Christine, this is what today was about. For the first time in my life I am happy; I have everything I've ever wanted: my own theatre, you as my wife, a growing family, I am like any other man." His tone shifted, "But then I see you being accosted because of my cursed face! And now I have given it to our daughter! I have tied you to a life of ridicule and my attempts to be a legitimate husband and musician are a fraud! I was right when I left you that night back in Paris. It was better when I stay locked away either beneath the opera house or in the tower looking down at my freakshow."
Tears streamed down The Diva's cheeks. How long has it been since he's been this open? This honest? This emotionally vulnerable? The anger she had melted and she lost her prepared speech. She picked Charlotte up and placed her on her stomach to buy herself some time. The child was finally growing some hair; just a little bit of light-colored fuzz. Christine hoped it would fill in and maybe make the girl's father feel better. The baby picked up another block and stuck it in her mouth. Christine pondered taking it away and giving her the teething ring but opted not to, knowing she would cry the moment the block was removed.
"Erik, you are not a fraud! We deserve every minute of this life we have built. We know we are not conventional, this is bound to happen." She looked him right in the eyes, "However, you have come so far with controlling your anger and violence. You do not need to resort back to that to protect us. Seeing you use that lasso again disgusted me! You are no longer that man. You are better than that. Gustave has already been through so much; he didn't need to see that! Please Erik, think before acting! I know you want the best for us, to protect us but we cannot do that if you get in trouble."
He nodded in agreement, "Forgive me, Christine. It seems I am destined to spend my life begging for your mercy."
Charlotte discarded the block in her mouth crawled the short distance to her father, pulling on his pant leg. He lifted the child into his lap. "You too, my little darling. Some day I will say I am sorry you look like me instead of your radiant mother."
In her father's lap she now reached up and tugged at his ascot. "Yes, yes, Papa is still overdressed." He removed his mask and wig, sitting them on the end table beside a chair, high up and out of Charlotte's reach. "But until that day, let Papa love you." He raised her to his face to kiss her but before he could she put her hands on his disfigured cheek. She pushed her little chubby fingers into the nooks and crannies, rubbed them over the textured skin. She cooed and babbled. Erik chuckled.
"Congratulations, you are her new toy for the rest of the evening," Christine giggled.
"That is quite alright," Erik mumbled as Charlotte had stuck one of her little hands into his mouth.
Christine stood up, "I'm going go get Gustave ready for his bath and bed." She kissed her husband on the top of head before leaving the room.
Alone with his daughter, he waited before he heard the piano and the voices of his wife and son disappear up the stairs before he started talking to Charlotte, who had removed her hand from his mouth.
"My little girl, the world is such a cruel place. Looking at you, I can understand why my mother was so cold to me. She was only preparing me for what laid ahead."
Charlotte started to babble again as she moved her hands around her father's face not just on the deformed side.
"But I am not my mother. And yes, I was angry and heartbroken when the doctor lifted you up and I saw you resembled me. But I also knew I loved you with every fiber of my being. I wanted to give you everything I was denied. And your mother is the kindest soul to walk this earth. After violently screaming in pain as she brought you into the world, she gracefully told the doctor 'She's perfectly fine, doctor. Have you ever seen such a beautiful girl?' She only had you in that bonnet to protect you from the world."
Charlotte wiggled so Erik moved her down into his lap, where she looked up at him with doe eyes. Her mother's. So she didn't completely resemble him. She crawled back over to the small pile of blocks in front of her father, picked one up and handed it to him.
He smiled, "Ah so you do want to build something for Phantasma!" He stacked a couple of blocks up and Charlotte put one on top of them. She then built her own tower and clapped. Erik clapped in return, "Yes Charlotte that is beautiful!"
Outside the parlor Christine leaned up against wall, eavesdropping on the one-sided conversation. Gustave insisted on going upstairs by himself and wanted his father to help him; so Christine came back to get Erik. However, upon hearing her husband talking to their daughter she stopped and listened. Tears brimmed in her eyes as her heart fluttered as she heard his words. She knew he had always been a Romantic but to hear such paternal love, such domestic bliss swell from the man who used to terrorize the Opera Populaire?
Christine took a deep breath and walked into the parlor, "Erik, Gustave wants you instead."
Erik looked up and smiled, "That is just fine." He stood up and then bent down and picked Charlotte up, securing her in his arms, "Come on little girl, let's go get your brother's bath ready."
As he walked past, Christine grabbed his arm stopping him in his place. She leaned over and kissed him, "Erik, I love you."
"I love you, too."
She watched as he walked out of the room and down the hall. Oh to make up those ten long years.