Christine dans Deux

An Alternate Multiverse - A Phantom of the Opera Story

Nyasia A. Maire

© 2006

DISCLAIMER: See Chapter One

Chapter Thirteen - Trystin

"Ma chéri, où est la salle de bains? La toilette?"

I want to laugh, but know he will not appreciate it. I rise from the bed and carefully using the bed to steady myself, I bend and pick up my nightgown from the floor. I pull it over my head and down to cover my nakedness. I walk to my bureau and find that not only are all of Erik's clothes here, his black wig and mask are here. I pick up his white ruffled shirt and toss it to him.

"Best to cover up just a bit in case Trystin wakes up. She's growing up too fast already."

He catches the shirt and slips it on. He rolls to the side of the bed and then stands. The shirt is long enough, just. He walks to me and looks at his belongings on my bureau.

"My dear, do not protest. I think this is best for my initial introduction to your daughter." He picks up the wig and mask.

I decide not to argue on the slight chance that he might be correct.

He stands looking at me expectantly and show him the way to what he needs. He stands in the doorway of the bathroom and looks about in amazement.

"So, have I become involved with a wealthy widow?"

I laugh. "No, dear. This is the small bathroom. I use the smaller bedroom and let Trystin have the master suite. Now, that bathroom is nice."

"As to rich, well, I've always been the main bread winner of the family, but I made sure that both my husband and I had life insurance. When he died, the insurance money allowed me to pay off the mortgage on the house and my finances are not a concern to me. Trystin and I live comfortably. I don't have to work, but I do."

"I will sneak into the master bath and then meet you in the living room. It's just down there at the end of this hall."

"Oh! Just to be safe, this is how you lock the door."

He walks into the bath and closes the door.

I turn and quietly push open Trystin's door and clumsily tiptoe into her bathroom. I shower and make my ablutions then return to the bedroom and dress. I choose a long sleeve blue-gray shirt and some straight-leg jeans.

Ready for the day, I head to the living room. The hall bathroom door is still closed and I hear the sound of running water. I smile and continue to the living room. Our cat, Misty, is lying the middle of the room and lazily rolls over on her back to look at me. I greet her and head through the living room to the entry hall and on through to the den. My cane is in its usual spot, leaning against the corner of the couch. I gratefully take its support and walk back to the living room. I walk through yet another doorway out of the living room (there are four altogether) and enter the kitchen. This is my second favorite room in the house. With its large multi-paned windows it is as bright as my den is dark. It has yards of granite countertops and a wonderful chef's island in the center. Being of Italian descent, I love to cook. And being the oldest of six children, I know only size recipe. Huge!

I decide to make Erik and Trystin homemade pancakes. No frozen limp things or stale box mess. All fresh ingredients. I turn on the griddle so it will be nice and hot. I brush on a little olive oil and then wipe down the griddle with a paper towel. I retrieve a mixing bowl and the ingredients. The only ingredient I don't take out is the blueberries. I buy them fresh and then freeze them. They cook better in the pancakes when they're frozen. I turn on the oven to 150° and put three dinner plates in to warm up. I take three sets of utensils from a drawer, three plate mats, three cups and three napkins join the utensils on my kitchen table. I put out a carton of orange juice and another of milk. Then add a bottle of maple syrup, a jar of apple butter, orange marmalade and a bottle of blueberry syrup to the table. The last two items I add are a small bowl of powdered sugar and my butter server (a jolly fat woman that I received as a present from my sister.) I survey the table and nod my head in satisfaction. I return to the island and begin adding the ingredients to the bowl. The secret to good fluffy pancakes is stir it just enough to combine the ingredients. Mix the batter too much and the result is flat, tough pancakes. I don't realize it, but I'm humming the Flower Duet from Lakmé. I turn to check on the griddle when I see that Erik has found me. He stands in the doorway leaning against the door jamb fully dressed watching me. I smile at him. A gentle smile caresses his mouth.

"I hope you're hungry and like pancakes. It's Trystin's favorite breakfast and I thought that today is a good day to celebrate, don't you?"

I sprinkle a drop of water on the griddle and it sizzles perfectly.

I open the oven door and a gentle warmth radiates out. He walks up behind me and places his arms about my waist. I lean back into him. I never imagined I would experience a more perfect moment. And yet, here I am living it.

"Pancakes? I am sorry, but I do not know this food. I am sure it will be delicious. And yes, I am most hungry. Can I do anything to help?"

"Oh, I'm an old hand in the kitchen and everything's pretty much ready. Just have to spoon the batter onto the griddle. Oh, pancakes and sort of a like a crepe only thicker. I can cook you some eggs, bacon and toast if you prefer."

"Pancakes will be wonderful. Thank you."

"Oh, this is my pleasure."

"I can tell."

"Would you like blueberries in yours? Trystin and I both love them."

"Blueberries, this late in the fall? Interesting. Yes, I would like that."

I open the freezer and pull out the container with the blueberries. I spoon the batter onto the griddle, then open the container, and quickly add the berries to the top of each pancake. I lick the blue from my fingers and Erik laughs. I grab a spatula from the carousel and begin my wait.

"One minute per side. Can you keep an eye on them? I'm going to go wake up the sleepy head!"

He takes the spatula from my hand and looks at it dubiously. I shake my head and laugh.

"Don't worry. You'll be fine. I'll be right back."

I walk towards Trystin's room and call out, "Hey! Sleepy head! Rise and shine! We have a guest for breakfast. It's pancakes with blueberries!"

I walk into her room and see her sitting up in bed and rubbing her eyes. She stretches like a cat and looks at me.

"Oh no!" I tease. "Look! She's growing again! No stretching! You're growing too fast!"

She giggles as only a child of seven years can.

"Would you like to climb aboard the choo-choo mama?"

"Yes! Yes! Choo-choo mama, please!"

She stands on her bed with outstretched arms. I offer my back and she climbs aboard. She clings to me and I hold her little butt with my one free hand.

I walk to the kitchen making "choo-choo" noises and she makes the noise of a train whistle. We enter the kitchen and there he stands.

Trystin lets out an excited shriek and immediately attempts to squirm her way off my back. Erik looks alarmed. I shake my head, smile and mouth the words, "Wait. Watch."

Her struggling escalates. "Mom! Let me down!" She demands. I gently oblige.

She runs to Erik and looks up at him with a radiant smile.

"You're him. Aren't you? You're Erik!" She laughs delightedly and whirls around. She looks at me. "Mom, when did you meet him?" She pauses. "Wait a minute, you can't meet him. Are you Erik or uh, the actor?" She turns to me, "What's his name?"

"Gerry … Gerard Butler."

"Yah, are you Erik or Gerry?"

"T, calm down. T, this is Erik."

"Wow! This is so cool! I'm really glad that you're Erik! This is so great!" She whirls around to Erik again. "Watch out! You're going to drop the pancakes!" She laughs. "Mom, you'd better get the pancakes."

I walk to Erik and rescue him from the spatula. I remove the plates one at a time from the oven with a pot holder and dish the pancakes onto the plates.

Trystin stops her dance and stands before Erik. She looks up at him with a serious look on her face. She extends her hand and says, "Hi! I'm Trystin, but you can call me T or TT."

Erik accepts her outstretched hand and gently shakes it. "I, Mademoiselle T, am Erik. You may call me your humble servant." He leans down and places a courtly kiss on the back of her hand, which elicits a delighted giggle and blush.

"Okay, that's enough. Trystin, to the table. Put the motor-mouth in 'Park' and plant it. I'll be right there. You too, Erik."

I take a pot holder in each hand, pick up two of the plates and head into the dining room. I walk in just in time to see Erik pushing Trystin on her chair up to the table.

"Breakfast is served." I place one of the plates in front of Trystin and another at the head of the table. I nod at Erik. "This one is for you. I'll be right back."

I head back into the kitchen, pick up my plate and return to the dining room. Trystin is gaily chattering away to Erik about how her mom makes the best pancakes in the world. I place my plate on the mat to Erik's left. I drop the pot holder on the table and go to pull my chair out when Erik intervenes.

"Allow me, my lady." He pulls my chair out, I sit and then he gently slides me to the table. At last he sits and there is a look of bliss on his face as he surveys the table and the ladies on his right and left.

"Let us eat before it grows cold." He says and we all dig in.