A Way Home

Chapter 10 – Preparation

"Hello, good morning, how you do?/ What makes your rising sun so new?/ I could use a fresh beginning too/ All of my regrets are nothing new/ So this is the way that I say I need you/ This is the way that I'm/ Learning to breathe/ I'm learning to crawl/ I'm finding that you and you alone can break my fall/ I'm living again, awake and alive/ I'm dying to breathe in these abundant skies"

– Learning to Breathe, Switchfoot

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I listened in silence as Erik explained to me what Charity had told him. When he was finished, I sighed. I pulled my knuckle out of my mouth, and wiped it on my dress. Erik didn't seem to notice my habit of sucking on my knuckle in times of deep thought, and worry.

"So," I began, "you're saying that you think we should go after this guy, whoever he is, and bring him to justice?" I raised an eyebrow at him.

Erik nodded.

I shook my head. "I don't know, Erik," I said. "I mean, we're married, and have two beautiful daughters. Whoever the guy was, it's my guess that he was just wanting to get rid of whoever it was that was killed, and you were an easy target to frame. I sincerely doubt that this guy is going to come back and try it again."

Erik was used to the way I talked, so I used my own modern French, instead of the old French that they used in the nineteenth century. I always reverted to my natural way of talking when I was nervous or anxious.

"We have to," Erik said. "There's something you should know."

"What?" I asked, a cold feeling of apprehension seeping into me.

"When I was about to be hung, right before Henri stepped in to save me, – again – I saw someone in the crowd who looked a lot like me. He didn't have a deformity, but he was wearing a black half mask on the right side of his face."

"What?" I asked quietly, narrowing my gaze and staring past Erik's shoulder, thinking. "That bastard."

"Who?" Erik asked.

"Until I know for sure, I don't want to say anything," I said. "I'd rather keep my suspicions to myself." I raised my head to look directly at him. "But if the person who framed you is who I think it is, then he is definitely still here. He's not the kind of person who gives up so easily."

"Do you think it was Pierre?" Erik asked.

"Pierre's dead," I replied. "Remember?"

"I don't recall you telling me that," he said. "When did that happen?"

"When I was taken to Henri's by the police, Pierre was there. The moment I found a moment alone with him, I stabbed him with a butter knife."

"Ouch," Erik said. "I never would have thought that you would have been one to kill someone."

"A part of me thought you were dead," I replied, fiddling with a bow on my dress. "So I wanted Pierre to suffer, because he was the one who had hurt you."

Erik smiled and wrapped his arms around me. "That's sweet," he said, and I smiled back. He was saying it in the kind of voice I had used with Charity when she had been a baby.

But, getting back to the subject at hand. "We have to ask Charity and Dominique for help," I said, hating the fact that I was even suggesting it.

"What?" Erik asked, holding me at arm's length and looking at me to see if I was alright. "We can't. It's too dangerous."

"And it's dangerous if they're not with us," I replied. "Besides, from what I gather, Charity knows the city's backwash areas pretty well. She is the only one who would be able to think of where he might be hiding."

Erik shook his head. "I don't know where you come up with these crazy ideas," he said. "But you're right. She does know those areas pretty well. She would be able to help us. But Dominique stays here."

"She's small, still," I retorted. "She can fit into tight spaces better than any of us." I smiled and poked Erik's flat stomach. "Including you."

"You're right," he said, his face long, and I sobered for his sake.

"I wish I wasn't," I said.

"So do I," he agreed.

"But maybe it's better that they both come along," I added. "That way, they won't feel the need to follow us when we go, because they'll already be with us. Better that they're with us, then behind us, getting captured and all."

"That's true." Erik sighed and I leaned my head on his shoulder.

"Erik?" I asked after a long pause.

"Yes?"

"Do you still find me attractive?"

He turned to me. "What kind of question is that?" He asked. "Of course I do, you know that."

"I know," I said, feeling a little ashamed. "It's just that I don't feel pretty anymore." I felt my face grow a little warm from embarrassment.

Erik tilted my chin so that I was facing him. "You will always be beautiful to me," he said. "Even when you're old and…" he searched his mind for the right word.

"Gnarly?" I suggested, in English.

He smiled. "Sure," he said. He knew the word because I had used it before. "When you're old and gnarly, and your breasts sag down to your knees, you will still be beautiful." He smiled and kissed me gently on the lips.

I smiled as well. "Don't repeat that around the girls," I whispered to him when we broke away. Then I became serious. "And now, we have to call them down so we can explain to them the situation." I turned and called Maria. When she came, I told her to ask Charity and Dominique to come down so Erik and I could speak with them about something. She did, and when the two came down, I smiled. They were both so beautiful. It was shocking, really, because I had never found myself attractive, even if Erik did find me so. I concluded that they got their good looks from Erik's side of the family.

Together, Erik and I explained to both of them what we wanted to do.

"You are, without a doubt, the strangest parents I have ever met," Charity said. "And I have encountered many."

"That's probably because we both know what the dangers are that are involved in this venture," I said. "We know what we're getting ourselves into."

"The question is," Erik said, "do you want to come?"

"Yes," Charity said. "I need to do this."

"I want to come, too!" Dominique said, and she put her hands on her hips indignantly. "How come Charity gets to go and I don't?"

"You do," I replied, smiling a little.

"Oh," she said, dropping her hands to her sides. It seemed that her insistence had either worked, or hadn't been needed in the first place.

Erik and I informed Henri where we would be, and then for the first time in what seemed like a millennium, I put on some pants.

Charity thought it was constricting to be wearing pants, but Dominique thought it made it easier to play. I agreed with neither of them. I liked pants because they allowed you to move around more nimbly.

"You can't fight a bad guy while wearing a dress," I said, and Charity wrinkled her nose with distaste.

"I'd rather not wear pants," she said.

"Didn't you have to wear pants when you were on your own on the streets?" I asked, thinking that that may have been the case.
She shook her head. "Never would I have even considered it," she replied.

I shrugged. "Well, trust me, when we actually have to run, you will appreciate it," I said. Then I helped Dominique tie her belt. "We may be girls, but we can still wear pants," I said to her. "We can even set a new fashion trend."

"How?" Dominique.

"We can wear pretty sparkly fabric belts with our pants," I said, "and then all the other girls in Paris are going to want a pair." I finished tying her belt in a fancy knot.

"How did you do that?" She asked.

"Practice," I replied, and tied my own belt. I looked up at Charity. "Do you need any help?" I asked.

"No," she said. "I'm fine." She fumbled with her belt and growled in frustration.

"Here," I said, "let me." I came over and knelt in front of her to tie her belt. She let me, but I could tell she felt embarrassed. When I finished I stood up and smiled at her. "There," I said, "now you're just as cool as us."

"Cool?" She asked, confused.

"Nevermind," I replied.

"Are you girls ready?" Erik asked, coming into the room with his hand over his eyes, to give us privacy, presumably.

"We're ready," I said, and he lowered his hand.

"You look great," he smiled at us. "But what's with the belts?"

"They're pretty, don't you think?" I asked, and I gave him a pointed look.

He didn't see it at first. "Well, actually," he began, but then changed direction. "Of course they're pretty. You girls look wonderful."

"Thank you, dear," I smiled and kissed him.

"Eeww!" Dominique exclaimed. "Gross!"

We broke away, and I smiled at her. "That's what mommies and daddies do when they love each other," I said. "They kiss."

"Dominique's right," Charity agreed. "It is gross."

I smiled again and let Erik lead the way out of the house.

A/N: There's the tenth chapter! Review, please. But no flames, please!