A few little historical notes to know going into this chapter: Dyspepsia is a 19th Century/Dated term for upset stomach/indigestion. Papoid Pills are a 19th Century treatment for Dyspepsia.
Another little note: Something from my one shot "No Coffee" is mentioned again. Hopefully you've already read it since it was already referenced in this phic.
Christine opened the door to Erik's workroom and found him bent over an automaton. As she stepped closer, she realized it was her understudy.
"I know I didn't get rid of it," he mumbled not looking up. "I'm salvaging it for parts. I hope that is okay."
"I was so proud of you this evening, Angel," Christine wrapped her arms his shoulders. "I saw how angry you were about my conversation with Daisy; I saw how you controlled your rage." She looked at the pile of parts removed from the automaton, "I don't know how I feel about you taking it out on something that looks like me, but at least our children did not have to see it." She kissed his cheek, "It's late, come to bed. You can finish with her tomorrow."
He pulled the rubber material over the automaton's stomach hiding the mechanical workings. "Do you really believe Daisy when she said she wasn't part of the group who went to the gossip page?"
"I did, why?"
Erik got up and stretched before turning around, "How can you trust her after the dinner party?"
"I can believe she is sincere in her apology and forgive." She leaned into his body and wrapped her arms around his neck, "The same way I have forgiven you for all you have done."
Mr. Y smiled and chuckled. He leaned and kissed his wife's forehead, "Christine, I love you."
It was time for their mid-afternoon rehearsal, but when The Phantom entered the house he was greeted by Charlotte rolling down the hall in her walker with Mary a few steps behind her.
"Dada, Dada!" The child exclaimed and she picked up her steps and rolled faster to her father.
"Yes Charlotte, Dada is here!" He walked up to the walker and when she stopped, he lifted her out of it.
"Don't get too excited, Sir she was calling Gustave Dada until he left," Mary informed.
"That is quite all right. She will figure it out," Erik smothered his daughter's face in kisses and Charlotte laughed.
"Dada!" The baby said again.
"Mary, where is Christine?"
"She's not feeling well, Sir and is upstairs resting."
He turned at looked at his daughter, "Come on, let's go see, Mama."
He headed upstairs, daughter in his arms, and into their bedroom. There Christine laid on her side in a loose pink tea dress, a basin bowl on her night stand, a handkerchief in her hand.
"Oh Erik, I am afraid I will not be able to rehearse today," Christine propped herself up on the pillows.
"Angel, is everything okay?" Erik sat down at the foot of empty side of the bed. He sat Charlotte down and she made quick work of crawling around on the empty space between her parents.
"Just a little dyspepsia, that is all," She placed her hand on her stomach. "I should be able to rehearse tonight."
"Should I get you some Papoid Pills?"
"No, I just need to rest."
"Dada, Dada!" Charlotte crawled into Erik's lap.
"Yes, yes, my little girl," Erik sat her up and wrapped one arm around her. He ran the other over her head. "Look how much hair you are growing. Have you showed Mama your hair lately?"
Christine smiled, "Yes she has. And at dinner we need to show Papa just how much cereal we can eat."
"Dada!" Charlotte raised her little chubby arms up and grabbed at Erik's chin.
"Come on, say good-bye to, Mama, we're going to let her rest," He picked up his daughter and then walked around to the other side of the bed.
"Nooo Dada!" Charlotte wiggled in his arms.
Erik leaned over and kissed his wife lightly on her lips, "Feel better."
Once the door was closed, Christine felt a wave of nausea overcome her. Bile burned her throat and mouth as she spit it into the basin. She wiped her mouth with the handkerchief and then laid back down completely. The Diva knew her body but she still hoped it was really just dyspepsia that would pass.
"Are you sure they are coming?" Erik rubbed his hands together as he stood in the middle of the Turkish rug.
"Yes, Daisy herself sent me a confirmation telegram this morning," Christine straighten her husband's tux's tie.
He touched one of the large jewels on her necklace, "You shouldn't wear this, I associate it with misfortune."
"That was two years ago. I would like to think wearing it tonight will bring us new fortune. Besides we are not just freaks…we are also what the Americans call 'New Money.' Perhaps we should have put some diamonds on your mask."
The man laughed before kissing his wife. It was interrupted by their son running into the room.
"Mother, is my tie correct? What about my waistcoat?" Gustave stood stiff his nose high in the air.
Christine bent down to examine the boy's first tux. "You are becoming quite the young man. Soon you will be taller than me." She tugged on his coat a little before standing up. "There. Now back to the music room. If you keep fidgeting it will keep wrinkling."
Once the sound of Gustave's shoes was gone, Erik took his wife into his arms, "I don't know if I can do this, Christine. I don't know if I can forgive like you; I don't know if I can open myself up and share our music."
"Angel of Music, you are going to be wonderful. Did you just see how excited our son is to accompany me on one of the songs?"
There was a ring of the doorbell and within a few minutes the butler showed in Mr. and Mrs. Jones into the Parlor.
"Daisy, thank you so much for joining us this evening," Christine cheerfully approached her friend and embraced her.
"No thank you, for the invitation."
Mr. Jones cleared his throat, "Yes, thank you so much, Mrs. Y." He gave her a small bow before kissing her hand. "And Erik, I own you a sincere apology for my behavior last time you had us at your home. May we put that behind us?" Mr. Jones extended his hand.
Christine held her friend's hand tight as she observed her husband's body language. She watched as he avoided all eye contact with her and he flexed his hands. He finally took a deep breath before shaking Mr. Jones hand, "I accept your apology, Branwell."
"Lovely!" Christine clapped her hands, smiling. "Now, shall we head to the music room; we've decided for entertainment before dinner because our son will be accompanying me on the piano tonight."
Mr. and Mrs. Jones sat on the settee that was moved into the room while Erik stood in the doorway. Gustave sat tall and proud, making sure the tails of his little tux hung down over the bench as he played "Love Never Dies" for his mother to sing. They were met with enthusiastic applause from their small audience when the song was over. With an ear to ear grin, Gustave joined his mother for a bow as she curtsied.
"Mr. Y wrote that song with me and my voice on his mind and it was what was the first song of his I sang here in America," Christine smiled at Erik. "I thought it would be a nice warm up before you, our friends, get a preview the new aria he wrote to be debuted later this season. It's titled 'Songbird;' Gustave if you will."
The boy nodded and returned to the piano and counted off for his mother. Erik felt his heart swell as he listened to his son and wife bring his music to life. Tear swelled in his eyes and ran down his cheeks, behind the mask for one cheek. Once finished, again the small audience erupted in passionate applause.
Branwell Jones sprung up and walked over to Christine, "Oh, that was beautiful!" He took her hands into his, "That is everything an aria should be! That could fit right in the middle of a complete opera."
"Yes! I was thinking the exact thing," Daisy turned and looked at Erik, "Please tell me you have plans to write a full opera."
"I have written a full opera before. It takes a significant amount of funding to perform."
"Well maybe, this will be a decent start," Branwell let go of Christine and walked up to The Phantom. He pulled a check out of his tux's jacket, "Perhaps this will be a nice start to that funding."
Mr. Y took the check, looked at it quickly before tucking it into his tux's jacket pocket, "Thank you so much, Branwell. This is a very generous donation to Phantasma's theatre. Shall we continue this discussion over dinner? Please follow me."
"Mother, do I get to join at dinner?" Gustave looked up at Christine from the piano bench.
"Of course," she smiled. "But you will have to head to bed right after."
"Erik you were wonderful tonight," Christine sat down at her vanity. "You also seemed to actually enjoy yourself."
"I did," The man smiled as he walked over to his wife. "You did not see the check yet," he removed it from his pocket and handed it to her.
Her eyes widened as he unclasped her necklace, "Are you serious?" She met her husband's gaze in the mirror.
He collected the necklace in his hand and kissed her neck, "Put that in your jewelry box along with this." He sat the necklace on the vanity. "This check wasn't the only reason I enjoyed myself. He continued to place soft kisses on her neck. "I cried hearing you and our son perform my music. I never knew the world could hold so much beauty." He ran his fingers softly down her exposed arms.
Christine sat the check on the vanity before tilting her head back and resting it against him. She looked up and smiled. "You didn't enjoy the company of our guests at all? You didn't enjoy the learning there are people who can be trusted and that you can forgive?"
"Don't ruin it, Christine," he leaned down and kissed her. He ran his fingers gently back up her arms and then across her chest. "Get up, I want to get you out of that dress and ravish you."
"Is that a promise?" Christine stood and pulled Erik towards the bed.
"Yes."
"Good thing, we've moved Charlotte into her brother's room for tonight," She smiled as she untied the bowtie she made perfect hours earlier.
The sun peaked through the curtains but Christine was already stirring in her husband's arms. Her stomach kept turning no matter how she tried to ignore it. She was able to wrap her dressing robe around her naked body and make it to their personal water closet.
Erik however still her heard coughing and heaving. Combining that with the lack of her warmth next to him he opened his eyes. "Angel?" He called sitting up. When she didn't respond, he found his drawers on the floor and put them on before wrapping himself in his own dressing robe.
"Angel?" he knocked on the water closet door. "Are you okay?" He turned the handle, discovering the door was not locked. She was kneeling in front of the toilet with the lid up. Her wide eyes met his but it was only for a couple of seconds before she was face down into the toilet throwing up again.
The Phantom bent down and pulled her hair back. When she was done, he flushed the toilet, took a small towel off the rack and handed it to her. He sat down on the edge of the bathtub, "How long did you think I was going to believe dyspepsia?"
"I was hoping until the end of the season," Christine wiped her mouth as she looked up at her husband. "I didn't want you worrying. I was in a bit of disbelief myself. I sent a telegram to my midwife asking her and she said nursing is not completely infallible."
Erik chuckled, before helping his wife to her feet, "Oh Christine, of course I'm going to worry; I worry about my family." He embraced her, "But I am also so elated! I get to be a father again! We're growing our family yet again!"
He kissed her lightly and she smiled back, playing with a few of his exposed chest hairs, "Who would think, The Phantom of the Opera a family man?"
"You always say that as if you did not know normalcy was all I ever wanted from the beginning."
"No, my voice for your music was what you wanted at the beginning," She giggled as she tapped his nose.
"To bed with you!" He walked her back to their bed before getting her one of her nightgowns. He untied her dressing gown, and then helped her into the nightgown.
"Erik, I am perfectly capable of getting dressed. I am barely in my second month and this is my third pregnancy."
"Yes, but that does not mean I cannot help my ill wife," Erik helped put her dressing gown back on and tied it. He pulled the covers of the bed back. "I am only thinking of your health."
"That wasn't what you were thinking last night," Christine smirked as she embraced her husband.
"I didn't know last night," he kissed her forehead.
"I'm glad. You wouldn't have ravished me like you did if you had known."
"Are you saying I am incapable of passionate physical pleasure when I know you are with child?" Concern filled The Phantom's voice. "Did I not satisfy you at all while you carried Charlotte?"
"Erik, please…"
"If I had not just seen your morning sickness in action, I would be pushing you face down into the bed as we speak. But instead, under the covers now, Mrs. Y." He walked over to the dresser where the pitcher and basin sat. He recovered the basin and sat it on her nightstand. He pulled the covers up over his wife and smiled, "Okay, you have everything you need to rest through it at the moment except for breakfast which I will get you. Toast and chamomile tea, correct?"
Christine smiled as she folded the towel, "Of course you remembered."