When I awoke, the morning was half gone. No matter; work was out of the question. I had a headache which extended to my knees, and my pride was only slightly less painful. I remembered…enough to guess that I was in the soup, but I chose to concentrate on the earlier wrong which had not yet been addressed: Christine's Public Spectacle. Suitably buoyed with righteous indignation, I tottered off in search of coffee and my recalcitrant mistress.
She was ensconced with Those Women in the parlor, so I was forced to endure Reza's obscenely grinning company.
"You were devastatingly suave last night, Erik; everyone in the house agrees. We all heard, naturally."
"If I were a well man you would be in grave peril. As it is, I am cataloging every comment in my vengeful, reptilian brain. I shall play it all back to you in excruciating detail as I torture you to your agonizing, slooooow death. Have you instructed those diabolical harridans to leave?"
"No…"
"GOD—ooh—goddammit, Reza. When France falls, it will be on your Persian head. Have a care for the nation which has sheltered you in exile all these years. You see to the Americans, and I will undertake to remove the pollution from Christine's brain. Darius, god bless you, my man; fresh coffee, god bless you."
"How do you propose to do that, Erik? Remove the pollution, that is?"
"Daroga. Why are you looking so amused? Is it possible that you don't recognize the gravity of this situation? I, too, thought it was all fun and games until the debacle yesterday brought me to my realization. Do you wish to live out your days under feminine tyranny, because I most certainly do not."
"Before you set off on a rant--the pollution?" he reminded me.
"Oh. Yes. Well, it happens, much as I hate to admit it, that you may have been correct about something you said earlier."
"Why, thank you, Erik; it takes a big phantom to admit such a thing."
"Yes. I know. Remember you said she'd sort herself out once she was occupied with proper women's pursuits?"
"I believe so," he recalled.
"Well. It happened to come up the other day, about the, ah, baby question, and while she claims to be against the idea in principle, she responded most positively to the actual, ah, suggestion, if you will. I think it may be worth it to put up with the noise and disruption of an infant to get Christine back in tow, what with her being the ring-leader of these female hooligans."
"Christine…back in tow? Forgive me, Erik; but did I know you when she was in tow?"
"Ha. Ha. Anyway, dispose of those women and I'll…see to it."
"Yes, I'm sure you will," he smiled.
"Get your mind out of the gutter, man!" I sputtered, indignant. "I'm doing this for all of us! After all, there is some sacrifice involved on my part. The little thing will likely be something of an inconvenience."
"You are indeed a very great man, undertaking such work for the sake of brotherhood," the Persian wit intoned.
"Observe my face, such as it is: this is Erik, ignoring Reza," I retorted. "May the Women's Rights harpies shred your flesh from your bones."
"Erik, when you say 'little thing' and 'inconvenience', do you mean the, ah, child?"
"Of course; what else?"
"You don't know anything about children." He stated this flatly, as if it were the most monumental of revelations. What an extraordinary thing to say.
"What is there to know, for heaven's sake? Christine knows about them," I waved my hand dismissively. "She's had too much time on her hands; I see it now. It's been my mistake; I admit it freely. The opera burned, and I didn't realize that she'd need something to occupy her mind. She is an extremely clever girl, after all; and left to her own devices, it's only natural she'd get into trouble with no guidance or oversight. I'll get her a child, and she'll turn her attention to it until the opera can be rebuilt; then we'll start rehearsing again."
"I see. And what will you do with the child then?"
"They go to school, Reza; for…what? Fifteen years or so? Then it gets a job and we're done with it." I sighed, exasperated.
"Oh. Quite right, silly me." He had the most ridiculous grin on his face. I reckon he was looking forward to being Uncle Reza.
"Right. So, you'll see to those women, then?"
"No, Erik, wait. Please sit down again. I can't let you leave here believing you have a viable plan; I wish I could, because I know it would be fascinating to watch, but I can't be so cruel. Erik, infants grow into babies, and into toddlers, and then children. They are an incalculable disruption. Do you realize they expect affection, undivided attention, entertainment—not just food and a place to sleep? They're nearly as demanding as you, only messier and noisier, usually. Erik, you have no idea what you're proposing; I can't let you go into it blindly."
"Honestly, daroga, who's being the granny now? Christine is going to take care of it; that's the whole point, to keep her busy!" I reminded him.
"And what will you do when she's busy with the child and you feel it's time you had some of her attention?"
"Well--they sleep; I can wait til it sleeps. She'll put it to bed after dinner, won't she?"
"Oh dear. Yes, they sleep, but they wake up and look for food at odd hours all night long when they're new. Christine will have to be completely devoted to the child when it's young, you see. Then as they get older, they fall prey to childhood illnesses, and nightmares, and--"
"See here, why are you raising all these piddling objections? I thought you liked the baby idea!"
"I do, Erik. I think children are delightful, so long as they're someone else's—but you are the least paternal figure I can imagine."
I took immediate umbrage at that. My chest puffed up to rival a peacock's.
"I will be a magnificent father." I insisted. "I excel at everything I set my hand to."
"I'm not sure how much your hand will have to do with this exercise, but that is another story," Reza cracked. "As to your being a good father, I agree with you—once you realize that you are no longer the center of the universe. But it will go hard with you, and everyone around you, until you learn that lesson, and who knows how long it will take?"
I would not be dissuaded from my purpose, but first I had to weasel my way back into Christine's arms. I had decided the best defense would be a good offense, so I awaited my chance that evening.
As she had predicted, Christine's meeting broke up at a much more reasonable time now that their civil disturbance had been staged. She was upstairs, preparing to give battle again, by nine-fifteen.
"Ah, you're sober. How refreshing," she opened frostily.
Apparently Christine had decided to go with the offensive strategy as well. I paused to re-evaluate my options. If I continued with my original plan, the entire night would be a disaster, and likely we'd end up in a siege lasting days; a week even. Early though it was, Christine seemed to be feeling prickly enough that I could not hope for much tonight. If I made a tactical withdrawal, however, perhaps I could salvage things for tomorrow night. I decided to revert to Sincere and Wounded Lover mode; it is usually successful if skillfully played. There is a bit of pride to be swallowed, but under the circumstances I was willing to risk it.
"Christine, before you say anything, I want you to know that I don't want to argue with you anymore." I sighed and searched her eyes hesitantly. I squeezed a tear from the corner of my eye, and she melted.
Some might say it was a cheap trick, but I disagree. It wasn't a lie; I did not want to argue anymore. Anyway, ultimately, we both got what we wanted.