I pulled out all the stops. I left roses and music outside Christine's door. I collected an assortment of pretty shells, slipping them one or two at a time into the pocket of her dressing gown. I invited her to walk on the shore after the children were in bed. She refused, but I could see she was pleased.
"Do you mind if I continue to invite you? I don't want to make a pest of myself."
"No, I don't mind, but don't expect me to agree," she kicked at an invisible speck on the floor. "And you do mean to make a pest of yourself."
"An endearing pest, perhaps; not an annoying one." I moved a shade closer. Tricky stuff, knowing how far to push.
Christine sighed.
"It's just a walk; what are you afraid of?" I whispered. She scrunched her shoulder up; too close.
"You know what I'm afraid of," she accused, palm floating over my lapel to keep me at distance.
I kissed each fingertip. "Why refuse me, then?"
"Because I can't resist you, even now," she admitted.
"And how is that a problem?"
"The lovemaking's never been a problem. Don't," she extracted her hand.
I bade her goodnight and went for a quick brandy. She likes to read when she goes to bed. After about 25 minutes, I crept to the top of the stairs and sat silently, waiting for Christine to extinguish her light. When she settled down to sleep, I threw my voice, singing her lullabies as I did when she was an orphaned opera rat and I was an angel.
-0-0-0-0-
I continued to be baffled by the triviality of the infraction that had caused the rupture between Christine and me. My heart would have broken and I would have gone completely mad, except that I absolutely refused to believe it was over, no matter what Christine said. Reza's theory was that it was like putting weights on a scale; some smaller, some larger, but at some point the balance was tipped and that was the end of it. Who knew?
"It's going to take more than seashells and roses, my boy," he chuckled.
"Oh? You think so?"
"Mm. I think drastic measures are called for."
"I considered making a trip into Paris for something sparkly, but I don't want her to think I'm trying to bribe her with trinkets," I confessed.
"Depends upon the trinket, doesn't it?"I shook my head. "Not Christine. Don't forget, she's a woman with a brain and all that."
-0-0-0-0-
I continued pressing my suit with patience and enormous charm, but Christine was unmovable. Still, I refused to rant or give in to despair. Weeks stretched into months, and we settled into a strange, platonic rhythm of sorts; Christine gave no sign that she missed having me for a husband, but neither did she give any sign of wanting me to go away.
"Erik, we've received an invitation to Chagny, and I'd like to go." She advised. "Will you come?"
"You've not mentioned…anything to Manon in your letters?"
"No." I waited in case some explanation was forthcoming, but Christine offered none.
"Yes, I'll come. Whatever you like, but the sleeping arrangements--"
"I'll tell Manon when we arrive."
-0-0-0-0-
The children and I had a marvelous ride down to Paris, singing songs and peering out at the scenery. Miri-ange had a fascination with goats, went into raptures every time she saw one. I turned to Christine.
"I think our back garden is sufficient to keep a goat; don't you, Christine?"
"Hm? I'm sorry, pardon?" She'd been gazing out the opposite window absently.
"A goat," I smiled.
"Oh, for pity's sake, Erik," she huffed, turning back to the window.
She didn't speak another word until Chagny was in sight.
"Erik, I can't tell them," she rasped, lip quivering.
"Chr—"
"Don't—ask me anything!" she hissed. "Just hush--for once! I can't, and you'd better not, either. We'll just have to work it out between us." I was going to agree, but she glared at me. I nodded silently. It would be alright; there was sure to be a divan in the bedroom I could flop on.
-0-0-0-0-
It was marvelous to see them again. The baby girls remembered one another and had lots to talk about. Somehow, I found myself immobilized after dinner with the two of them on my lap; it was heavenly. I wish I'd had babies decades ago. Raoul and Masson had a swordfight. With the men doing childcare, the ladies were free to stroll in the garden.
After the babies went down for the night, Raoul and I had a cognac and an obscenely good cigar.
"Christ, boy, this is a nice little shack. I'd've married you myself."
"I prefer blondes, you might have noticed."
"Don't knock me til you've tried me," I teased.
"Christine alright?" he asked lightly.
"Hm?"
"She seems a little…off," he shrugged. "I can't define it."
"Probably just the travel and excitement," I suggested. "She's been looking forward to this so."
"You've not got her That Way again have you?" he grinned.
"Ah, no. Definitely not."
"I know; how to find her alone, hm?" Raoul nodded. "I can't imagine what it's like with two little ones. It's bad enough with one. My timing is always off," he complained.
"Wait til you get to be my age and timing is no longer the issue," I chuckled. I felt a black mood sniffing around my ankles. I didn't want to talk about Christine anymore; not if I had to maintain the charade that everything was rosy. I encouraged Raoul to give me an update on the Opera.
It was the same as ever, only more so. Raoul confessed he'd not realized what an asset I'd been til he'd seen the tacky sets and costumes they churned out without my influence. Raoul told the managers that the Opera Ghost had been worth every penny, and that they were a pair of jackasses running him out. In response, they mumbled something about public safety.
-0-0-0-0-
When I entered the bedroom, I saw and smelled the smoke of the freshly blown out candle. Christine lay there with her eyes clamped shut tight, feigning sleep. She'd set a pillow and blanket on the divan; I was comfortable enough. I felt her watching me as I settled in, but I didn't say anything. She was having a strange day; it was best I left her to it.
In the morning, the ladies left early for the city; serious shopping was in order. Raoul and I took the children for a ride around the grounds. In the afternoon, we went down to the creek at the back of the property. Raoul led us to a place that was slightly over ankle deep, for a splashing, squealing party. It's fortunate that I'm not a wealthy comte with a huge estate. I'd never get a thing done; every minute I'd be roaming the grounds for interesting stuff to do with my babies: mice and frogs to study, rocks to throw, trees to climb or creeks to splash in.
When we returned—late—for naptime, the governess was speechless at our dripping, bedraggled appearance. She made no secret of her disapproval as she carted the babies off for dry clothes, milk and a snooze. Since there was no one to scold us that there were better things to do, Raoul and I passed out in the sunny conservatory.
I woke up with a sword blade in my face.
"Engarde, old man." I sat up gingerly and Raoul tossed me my sword.
"You'll regret this, my lovely. I'm old but I'm clever," I warned.
Our swordplay ranged over the entire house. A horrified maid with a huge vase of tulips skittered away with a squeak. The butler shook his head and grumbled under his breath about "Madame Comtesse". One maid scurried after us, righting any furniture we upset; another darted ahead, trying to rescue breakables before the onslaught.
Finally, we made our way onto the garden balcony, to the boundless relief of the household staff. We were slashing away when the ladies appeared at the door, laden with booty. Manon smiled, but Christine screamed "ERIK! RAOUL!" and fell over in a dead faint.
I brought Christine to a lounge on the balcony; a maid brought smelling salts and a cool cloth. Christine came around quickly. She clutched me to her breast, nearly smothering me. It was delightful.
"Oh, God, please don't fight!" she cried.
Raoul knelt and kissed Christine's hand. "No, Lotti, we were just playing! Why would we fight, silly girl?" he soothed.
Christine looked from him to me. "Really?"
I nodded.
She sighed and raised an unsteady hand to her forehead. "I guess I still can't believe you two love each other. I saw the swords, and I immediately imagined the worst."
"Oh, Christine! That was ages ago!" Manon laughed breezily. "Aperitif, anyone?"