The Perfect Solution
An Alternate Universe – Phantom of the Opera Story
Nyasia A. Maire
© 2007
DISCLAIMER: I do not hold the rights nor did I create any characters found in The Phantom of the Opera or Phantom, nor have I received monetary compensation for writing this story.
Sweet-and-Twenty
O Mistress mine, where are you roaming?
O, stay and hear! Your true love's coming,
that can sing both high and low:
trip no further, pretty sweeting;
journeys end in lovers meeting,
every wise man's son doth know.
What is love? 'Tis not hereafter;
present mirth hath present laughter;
what's to come is still unsure:
in delay, there lies no plenty;
then come kiss me, sweet-and-twenty!
Youth's a stuff will not endure.
William Shakespeare (1564–1616)
Chapter Fourteen – In Delay There Lies No Plenty
"Christine?"
"Yes, Erik."
"Would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?"
Reluctantly, he disentangled one of his arms from her and he nonchalantly slipped his hand into the picnic basket. His eyes never broke away from hers as his hand felt for and then found the object he desired. Withdrawing the treasure from the basket, his full attention returned once more to the silent woman he held against his chest.
Her lovely eyes stared into his, but it seemed as if her mind were far away. Her slightly panting mouth transfixed him. Her lips, now a deep, dusty rose from their kisses, were full, swollen and slightly parted. Her normally pale complexion bore a delightful flush of pink beneath the face powder she wore and more of her curly locks had escaped to hang free. Erik desired nothing more than to spend the afternoon kissing her lips, but having given voice to his proposal, he knew he must wait for her response.
"She is so beautiful." He thought.
Still, the silence stretched on and Erik began to feel concerned.
"Too soon! I asked her too soon! Damn!"
He opened his mouth to apologize for his forwardness, when suddenly, she gasped. She slowly closed her eyes and then opened them, gazing at him with an intensity that inwardly caused him to flinch.
♥ ♫ ♥ ♫ ♥
"Meg! May I borrow your blue parasol?"
Christine stuck her head into Meg's bedroom. In her excitement over her imminent outing with Erik, she almost did not notice her friend's distressed state. The broad smile on Christine's face slipped into a frown and she moved to her best friend's side.
"What ever is the matter?"
Her friend looked up from the place on the floor at which she had been staring and brought her glistening blue eyes up to meet Christine's sober brown ones.
"Oh! Everything is the matter. Last night … Maman found Raoul and I … well, she saw …. Oh, Christine! He makes me feel so giddy. We began to kiss and well, our kisses became rather ardent. I knew I should tell him to stop, but I did not want to stop. When he touched me, it burned but it was a wondrous fire that he lit within me … then, Maman came into the room. She sent me to my room and she spoke with Raoul. She did not come in last night and speak with me. Oh, I am so certain that she will never allow me to see Raoul again! I feel as if I am dying. It hurts so much! What am I to do?"
With those words, the dam burst and Meg began to cry. Too stunned to speak, Christine hesitantly placed her arms around the hysterical girl. She sat, her arms stiff as she held the seemingly inconsolable girl and clumsily patted her back.
"What do I do now? I have never given someone comfort … but …."
Christine searched her memory and at last, remembered how, when she was very small, her father held her when a thunder storm frightened her. He held her in his arms while he hummed a Swedish lullaby and rocked her. A wistful smile played across her features and her arms relaxed. She began to rock Meg gently. Christine stroked the girl's fine, blonde hair as she hummed softly. When, at last, the girl's tears began to subside, Christine released her.
"Meg, do you love him?"
"Yes."
The simplicity of her answer said more than any sonnet ever written in honor of love could say. Christine nodded.
"Does he love you?"
"Yes."
"Well, then you have to have faith in that and hope that Maman will come to see too. I am sorry, Meg. I do not know how to help you."
Frustrated at her ignorance, Christine frowned.
"Oh, Christine! You already have. You listened and you have given me hope."
"I pray it is not a false hope."
Meg smiled.
"How could it be false, when the love Raoul and I share is true?"
Christine gave Meg an impish smile. She leaned her forehead against Meg's and whispered.
"So, can I borrow your blue parasol?"
Surprised, Meg drew back and studied Christine's face.
"Are you going outside?"
Christine nodded vigorously.
"Erik and I are going to le Jardin du Luxembourg for a picnic."
Meg squealed with delight then eyed Christine skeptically.
"And you are going to wear that?"
Christine looked at the plain, black skirt and ruffled, blue blouse she wore.
"Yes. What is wrong with this?"
Meg rolled her eyes. She grabbed Christine's arm and pulled her to her wardrobe.
"Come, Christine. You helped me. Now, it is my turn to help you."
One nerve wracking hour later and Meg nodded her approval of Christine.
"Can I see what you have done to me now?" Christine pouted.
Meg placed her hands on Christine's upper arms and turned her around to face her reflection.
"Well? You look perfect! Now, you may borrow my parasol."
Christine gazed at the person whom she knew must be her and shook her head. She watched the image in the mirror shake their head and she started as if from a deep trance.
"Perfect? What is perfection in this life?"
She spoke half to herself and not expecting a response, rushed to cover her raw emotions.
"Meg, thank you! I barely know myself."
She went to give Meg a hug, but the girl warned her off with raised hands.
"I do not wish to muss you. You are most welcome, Christine."
Her eyes shone with unshed tears.
"Meg, all will be well. Have faith. I did and although it took 12 years, I met my angel. You have already met your angel. Now, all you must do is overcome the wrath of Maman. A difficult task, but not impossible. She loves you, Meg. She only wishes the best for you and wants to be certain that no man breaks your heart. Let her know that Raoul would never do that and once she trusts that his heart is true, all will be well."
The girls shared a bittersweet smile. The moment ended as a rap sounded from down the hall in the parlor. Meg grinned.
"Oh! That must be Monsieur Destler! I simply must see the look on his face when he sees you! Please? Come, Christine!"
Christine blushed furiously and turned to the mirror to give her reflection one last nervous look.
Meg sighed impatiently, placed her hands on her hips and scolded.
"Do not worry, Christine. You look wonderful. If he has not fallen in love with you already, he most certainly will as soon as he sees how you look now."
"But, Meg. I …."
"I want him to love me, not how I look." She thought anxiously.
"Not another word! Come! It just will not do to keep your gentleman waiting. Oh! I cannot wait to catch sight of his face as he sees just how lovely you look. Come, Christine! Your knight in shining armor awaits his lady fair!"
"No, Meg. My angel awaits me."
Christine smiled serenely, walked out of her bedroom and down the hall to meet with the angel that fate saw fit to present her.
♥ ♫ ♥ ♫ ♥
Antoinette Giry hurried to answer the door. After everything that happened the night before, she almost regretted her impulsiveness in allowing this outing and granting the young man permission to ask for Christine's hand in marriage. All doubts about her decision vanished as she took in the sight of the nervous young man standing at her door. She stepped back and invited him to enter.
"Bonjour, Monsieur Destler. How are you today?"
"Bonjour, Madame Giry. I am quite well and you?"
"I am well enough, merci."
The man stepped close to her and spoke in a low voice.
"Madame, may I show you something?"
Somewhat perplexed, but reassured by the serious look on his face, she nodded. He pulled something from his pocket and held it up. Antoinette gasped.
"It is lovely, Monsieur. She will love it." She paused and her eyes darted towards the hall leading to Christine's bedroom. "I believe I hear her door. It would be best if you put that away, lest you ruin your surprise, Monsieur."
He grinned and replaced the ring into the box then slipped it back into his pocket. Antoinette marveled at how his grin transformed his appearance. When he grinned, he looked as if he were no older than 16. Meg and Christine's entrance into the room interrupted her thoughts. Again, she gazed in wonder as his stunned expression changed him from excited boy to love-struck young man. She shook her head.
"Truly, they are each other's perfect solution."
♥ ♫ ♥ ♫ ♥
Meg rushed into the parlor, only to find that her mother had already answered the door. All of her excited happiness instantly fell from her as her mother turned to look at her. Meg turned to watch Erik and could not help the grin that threatened to crack her face apart when she saw the look of awed admiration on his face upon his first glimpse of Christine.
"Oh, he is quite taken with her. Most assuredly, he is utterly smitten. I am so happy for Christine! She has lived through such sorrow. She deserves to find love, to love and be loved in return. I hope he is the one for her! Oh, I pray they fall in love and live happily ever after."
Remembering her mother's displeasure over the scene of the night before, she caught herself before she giggled. Ducking her head to avoid her mother's stern eyes, she murmured.
"It is a pleasure to see you once again, Monsieur Destler."
He gave her an almost imperceptible bow and replied.
"Likewise, Mademoiselle Giry."
His eyes returned to the dark-haired beauty and he walked gracefully towards her. He halted directly in front of Christine and cleared his throat nervously before he spoke.
"Bonjour, Mademoiselle Daae. You look lovely. A true vision of beauty."
Christine's face quickly flushed scarlet, but she retained enough presence of mind to curtsey.
"Bonjour, Monsieur Destler. Merci. May I say that you cut quite a handsome figure as well?"
Madame Giry cleared her throat to gain their attention.
"Monsieur, when may I expect Christine to return home?"
"We shall return no later than sunset, if that is acceptable to you?"
"It is, Monsieur. Now, you two, be off with you and have a wonderful time."
Erik nodded his head to the woman and Christine smiled widely at the woman she considered her second mother.
"Thank you, Maman. We shall. Au revoir!"
Erik offered his arm to Christine and after giving Madame a small wave of her hand, she placed her hand on Erik's arm. He placed his hand atop hers and squeezed her hand affectionately.
"Shall we?"
"Oh, indeed, Monsieur. Let us be off on our outing!"
♥ ♫ ♥ ♫ ♥
"Did he just ask me to marry him?"
She looked at the face of the man who held her so close. His deep green eyes were dark with the remains of their passionate kisses, but she could read a growing apprehension in them. She watched him and noticed his lower lip trembled almost imperceptibly.
"He did! Oh my God! He did! He asked me to marry him!"
Her mind reeled with shock and joy. She gasped and felt herself blink slowly.
"Christine, you silly goose! Say something! He's waiting for you to say something!"
A bright smile spread across Christine's mouth and her eyes shone radiantly.
"Erik, yes. Oh! Yes!"
Author's Note: Well, I must say that I am very impressed with the response I received from my inquiry as to how Christine should respond to Erik's proposal. I hope that my resolution pleases everyone. I send my sincere thanks to everyone that responded! You are the best! Please continue to read and review! --ny