I awoke in my own bed, with Christine curled up behind me. I felt like a man who's had his death sentence commuted. I stretched and turned onto my back, slipping my arm around her.
"You slept well; you never stirred," she murmured, snuggling up close. "So did I; it's been a long time since I've slept so well...I've missed you."
"Christine, you love me still?" I wondered.
"Of course."
"But why?"
"Why do you love me?" she asked.
"That's different…"
"If you say so."
"So what happens now, Christine? I mean, with you and me?"
"Well, I think first we should have some breakfast and tell Reza you've come home, hm?" She stroked my cheek with her precious fingertips. "Oh, I've missed you!" she exclaimed suddenly, embracing me tightly.
Right, she was squeezing me; said she's missed me twice in as many minutes; so perhaps I could just assume we'd returned to normal. I pressed my eager anatomy against her hip and slid a hand under her gown.
"I've missed you, my Angel…is this allowed?"
"Not simply allowed, it is encouraged," she purred. "When I said I missed you, I meant all of you. Haven't I told you I've missed you?." She blessed me with her musical laugh and her glorious body.
. . .
"What is this apparition I see?" Reza beamed and embraced me. "When did you come home?"
"Last night. Christine came to see me."
"And talked some sense into you, I see."
"I don't know about that," I sipped my coffee. "She says that things will have to be different now, that I have to learn to be more like other men."
"This should be an interesting transformation."
"I don't know why she still wants me, Reza," I confessed.
"I don't know why she wanted you to begin with," he chuckled warmly. "Love is strange, my friend. I would suggest that you thank god for your luck and not ask too many questions."
I heard footfalls upstairs, so I excused myself and collected some breakfast and coffee for Christine. She was dressing when I entered, but smiled and crawled onto the bed.
"Thank you, Erik; how sweet!" She pitched in heartily.
"Christine, you said things have to be different," I opened uncomfortably. "I feel as though the sword of Damocles is hanging over my head and any moment—"
"Erik, no; you're not on probation, my Love. I'll help you, I told you. The first thing I think you should do is let Josette's brother know what's become of her. He deserves that."
"What do you want me to do?" I demanded, wide eyed. "Knock on the door and say, Ah, yes, I offed your sister?"
"No, but…—she is…at the Lourve? in the cave-in, right?" she asked, somewhat uncomfortably.
What a bizarre thing to discuss with Christine.
"Yes,." I admitted.
"Surely you could find some way to tell him that she was found, without—"
"But you don't want me to--Do you expect me to tell the truth about it? You said no more lying."
"No, you're going to have to…be creative." She fished into her jewelry box and produced a tasteful calling card: 'Cesar Marie-Josee de la Viez Boulanger Charbonneau'. Excuse me; I couldn't even drum up a single last name.
"Christ."
"Erik," she said softly, "will you tell me about it?"
"Why?" I agonized.
"Because I want to know," she shrugged, as if it should be obvious.
"What do you want to know? If I enjoyed it?" Again, hot, angry, shameful tears overwhelmed me.
"I meant, will you tell me about it after you speak to M. Charbonneau." She reached out and squeezed my hand. "I wish you wouldn't overreact so."
"Oh. Yes, I'll let you know what happens." I sighed. "I suppose I should…take her to him."
"Oh dear," Christine gulped. "Oh dear!" She bolted for the bathroom, wherein (I gather) she lost her breakfast.
I gave her a few minutes; and then escorted her back to bed. She was pale and wobbly, very appreciative of the cool cloth I produced for her forehead.
"I'm sorry, Darling. I should've kept that thought to myself."
"No, it's alright. It's just…" Christine sighed and got that dimple over her left brow which belied her irritation. Under the circumstances, I believe I can be forgiven for jumping to conclusions and panicking.
"What! What did I do!"
"Erik, will you stop being such a ninny; you didn't do anything. It's not your fault. Honestly, you have to stop this; you're not at fault every time I frown!" she scolded.
"How am I supposed to know that? You certainly sound irritated with me!" I whined.
"Well, now I am, because you're being such a whiney baby, but I wasn't initially." Her brow crinkled again. "I didn't want to say anything yet, because you've only just returned home, and you've enough to worry about—and I know how you love to worry."
"I do not love to worry," I grumbled. "You talk to Reza too much. Didn't want to say anything about what?"
"About—are you sitting? Yes. About… that we made a baby."
I didn't faint; I lay down swiftly and had palpitations, but I didn't faint.
"How could we have done that?" I demanded. "I've not been here for months. Anyway--"
"It only takes once, Erik."
"I know that, Madame, you don't have to treat me like an idiot!" When I glared at her, she got that 'I'm going to cry' look. "This isn't going well at all," I confessed, running a nervous hand through my hair. "Christine, I'm sorry. I'm not doubting you, but you look…normal."
"I only look normal because you didn't bother to look at me that closely when you had the chance. You were in too much of a lather," she pouted.
"Of course I looked at you, Angel," I soothed.
"How did you miss this, then?" she demanded. She drew her gown up brazenly. It was a bump. It wasn't a particularly large bump, but it was certainly more of one than Christine ever had.
"It's…not that obvious," I waffled. I was hopeful that was a good thing to say.
"Hmph." She humphed, but she seemed mollified.
"Exactly, ah, how much of a baby is it?"
"Well, it's…s right before you left. It's nearly four month's of a baby. It will be obvious before long." It was impossible for me to tell if she was fretting or just stating a fact. Without even realizing I was doing so, I began to pace.
"Now, Christine, see here, the last time we had occasion to discuss such a thing, I was sorry we did so. But now, well, now it's different because it's real, and I don't intend to brook any women's rights nonsense. I expect you to marry me, and I expect that we'll all three of us will have the same last name, whatever it may be. I hope we're not going to argue about this, but—"
"Alright.," She said brightly.
I stopped dead in my tracks.
"I beg your pardon?"
"I said alright."
"Alright, what?" I asked, like an idiot.
"Alright, I'll marry you and we'll all three of us have the same last name. What is it going to be?" she asked mildly.
"What is what going to be?" I admit I was lost.
"What is our last name going to be?"
"Um, Gaston said I could use his…wait, you're not giving me any argument about this at all. Why not?" I demanded warily.
"Because it's different now. I'm a compromised woman," she giggled. "I'm at your mercy. What will I do if you don't make an honest woman of me?"
I laughed and fell onto the bed with her. I shoved her gown up over her breasts and covered her ripe body with kisses.
"You're never at my mercy, Darling. I've been at your mercy since you were seven years old.," I confessed, measuring her breasts within my hands. "You do look different, it's a wonder I didn't notice; I must've been in a lather, as you said. You look like a woman."
"I am a woman, you fool,." she smiled, shoving my head toward her lap.
"If you abuse me I'll withdraw my attentions, Madame, and I'm just getting to the good part. I meant to say that you're curvaceous and succulent. Before you were girlish; no less delectable, just differently so."
"Erik, it's alright then? You're not upset about it?" she worried.
"Not yet, Christine. I'll take some time for it to sink in, and then I assure you, I'll panic in earnest. Are you sure it's alright for me to fiddle thus with a mother-to-be?"
"I think it's good for me to be happy, and your fiddling makes me very happy. I suppose that counts for something." She helped me out of my shirt.
"Christine, do you really want this? Me? This baby?"
"Erik! The baby is here; what am I supposed to do now? It's a bit late, isn't it?" she squealed.
"There are ways around these things; you certainly don't have to keep either of us. You could give the baby away; you wouldn't have to marry me if you didn't want to. You could--"
"Erik, stop it!" she fell to crying again. "How can you say that? You have to stop saying these things! I love you, Erik, I want to be your wife, and I love this baby you gave me."
I gathered her up and soothed her, cursing myself. Suddenly it seemed I couldn't do anything right; every word I spoke was the wrong one. Everyone knows that women get especially sensitive when they're…like so. I sighed.
"Don't cry, Christine. I've been so much trouble to you, that's all I'm trying to say."
"That's in the past!. I want you to marry me and take care of us; don't you want us?"
"Come, don't be silly, Angel. You're overwrought; it's natural in your condition. Of course I want you. Please don't cry."
In time, tThe crisis was averted. I kissed and petted her, rubbed her back, and; Christine dropped off to sleep, reassured. In the quiet as I soothed her, my panic began to take root and sprout. I decided to go downstairs to worry it into full bloom with my Persian friend.
"What? A brandy at barely ten in the morning? In trouble already, and not even home a day!" " he grinned.
"Oh, I got in this mess before I even left," I confessed weakly.
"Really? What have you done?"
"Plenty. Christine's nearly half gone; did she tell you?" I tossed the brandy back and helped myself to another.
"Half gone? I don't understand."
"It seems I left her with a little something when I ran off. I have to sit. I'm going to lose my breakfast."
"A little something…a little something?" I watched understanding dawn on Reza's face. " You mean a little living something?"
"Mm-hm. It doesn't seem to have occurred to her that she'll give birth to a monster."
"You don't know that, Erik."
"No, but I will do soon enough. She'll hate me then for good," I laughed nervously.
"Of course she won't!"
"You know, Daroga, I told her a little while ago that it would take me some time to let this sink in, before I'd begin to panic. Well, I've begun to panic…"
I fell into Reza's arms and shook like a rabbit.