CHAPTER 6—DOUCEUR DE VIVRE
February 1880
Due to the weather and the promise that the trip into town would be miserable, Erik had decided to take the day off of work. Years ago, he would have done no such thing, but as Jacqueline became gradually worse, he was finding any excuse to stay at home to be at her side.
Today was a good day for Jacqueline. She briefly mentioned being tired, but she made herself comfortable in front of the fire in the sitting room, and was currently finishing a scarf she was knitting for Erik to wear to work. Next to her, Nadine was reading aloud to her, very slowly, making out the words with occasional help from her mother. Erik was reading The Count of Monte Cristo for the sixth time, glancing up occasionally to stare at his wife.
Her appearance had changed drastically over the past few months. Already thin, she had lost a great deal of weight and now looked almost frighteningly skinny. There were bags under her eyes, although not from lack of sleep. She slept sometimes more than she was awake, and Erik knew that, even though she never spoke of it, she was in a great deal of pain. A less astute man may not have noticed it, but Erik saw the tiny grimaces when she stood after sitting for a long time, knew that she was sometimes short of breath from it. Often in her sleep, she could curl onto her side, holding her stomach as if she felt ill.
Today, he watched her, apparently well aside from her pale appearance. He knew, however, that the time would soon come that Jacqueline would be taken from him. The decision not to tell Nadine the severity of her mother's illness was a difficult one for the couple. She had been told that mother was ill and that that was the reason for her constant fatigue, but somehow, she seemed to have discovered her mother's dire situation. She was always at Jacqueline's side, offering to fetch her tea or books, playing songs for her on the piano, and showing off her new skills on the violin.
Nadine finished reading and closed the book, putting it in her lap. "Did I get everything right?"
Jacqueline smiled, running her hand over Nadine's hair. "Yes, darling, you did fine. Do you want dinner? I think Candice said something about soup."
"Then can I play my new Mozart song?"
"Only if you finish your dinner." Jacqueline smiled as she watched Nadine hop down and run from the library to wash up. She smiled over at Erik. "She's quite the little prodigy, Erik. You should be proud."
"As should you." He closed the book on Edmond's current predicament of being tossed into the Mediterranean and rose, stepping over to Jacqueline and helping her from her seat. "She learned all her manners from you."
"Thank God!" Jacqueline laughed weakly, leaning on Erik as he took her arm and led her out. "I'd be terrified if she learned them from you."
Erik forced a laugh—laughing was becoming more and more difficult with each pound that Jacqueline lost. She seemed to sense this, and she gave him a small nudge. "You have to laugh sometime, darling."
Dinner was quiet that evening. Jacqueline did not eat much, but watched as Nadine enjoyed two bowls of soup with bread. Erik ate, but only slightly more than Jacqueline. The windows rattled, and he glanced outside. It was dark now, but he could see snow rushing past outside.
"It's good you didn't go in today," Jacqueline said, "you'd have been stuck in town all night."
Erik nodded, taking another small bite of soup-dipped bread. "Not the best weather for traveling, I admit. Can you blame me for wanting to stay home with my beautiful wife and lovely daughter?"
Nadine giggled and and looked down at her empty bowl. "Now may I play for you?"
Jacqueline pushed her soup bowl away from her, and led Nadine by the hand. Erik remained seated, sensing that Jacqueline wanted to be alone with Nadine. She had, as of late, been letting Nadine have trinkets of hers that she had long since admired, which worried Erik. When he spoke to his wife, however, she waved a hand dismissively and said that it was because Nadine was old enough and smart enough to take care of delicate items.
The time spent sitting at the table was time that ticked by unnoticed by Erik. He had no idea of how long it was before Candice appeared to take away the dishes. He rose, silent, and made his way slowly upstairs. There was no sound of the piano, so he knew they were no longer in the music room. A glance into his daughter's bedroom proved him correct.
Nadine was climbing into bed, her hair hanging down over her shoulders, dressed in a thick white nightgown. She smiled.
"Tell me goodnight, papa."
Erik crossed the room and tucked the covers around her on one side, while Jacqueline did the same on the other. He pressed a kiss to his daughter's head, and stood back while Jacqueline sat down beside her, leading her in a nighttime prayer. When they were finished, Jacqueline kissed her, lingering at her hair for a moment before standing and turning down the light. She dropped on more kiss.
"I love you, mama."
"I love you more." She smiled down at Nadine. "Tell papa goodnight."
"Goodnight, papa. I love you."
He winked at her. "Don't let the monsters get you."
"I'm not scared of monsters," she said, snuggling into her comforter and closing her eyes. Erik and Jacqueline stood by her bed for a long time, and watched as she fell into a deep sleep.
A warm hand slipped into Erik's, and he kissed Jacqueline softly before leading her down the hall to their own room, where a warm fire waited for them.
They dressed for bed in silence, neither saying what was on their minds. When Erik turned down the light and climbed into bed, Jacqueline snuggled up against his side. She was quiet, and Erik was beginning to think she had fallen asleep when she spoke softly.
"I love you."
Her voice was barely audible, but it rang out in the silence of the bedroom like a shout. Her eyes were still closed, and she was breathing deeply, as if she had spoken to him from a dream.
"I love you, too." He held her a bit closer, not missing the smile that crossed her features.
"Sleep well."
"You, too."
Erik closed his eyes and let himself drift, held tightly in his wife's arms. He fell asleep quickly, exhausted from the mental torture of the day to day life he was living. His dreams were strange. In them, Jacqueline looked healthier than ever, but somehow Erik's dream-self knew that she was still sick. They went to the same beach on the Riviera that they had visited on their honeymoon. They walked quite a distance, talking about everything and nothing. It was so long of a walk that the sun began to set over the Mediterranean, and it was the most beautiful sunset he had ever seen. The sky was red and gold and purple, and it made Jacqueline's face glow even more beautifully, if it were possible.
"It's time to go home, Erik."
The tone of her voice and the mystical smile on her face spoke more than her words, and Erik wrapped his arms around her.
"I don't want you to go," he said, his voice sounding like a child's.
She smiled at him. "You'll see me again. Just remember—I love you. Kiss Nadine for me."
He kissed her one last time before she slipped from his fingers. She was flying through the air, disappearing into the sunset, and then she was gone. Night fell, and the day's warmth left. It was chilly, now, and he wrapped his arms around himself. He picked up a piece of driftwood and dragged it slowly along the fence.
It was the tapping of a tree on the window of the bedroom that woke Erik. He rolled his head to one side, identifying the noise before turning back over. He was almost asleep when he noticed that Jacqueline's arms, though still wrapped around him, were limp.
"Jacqueline?" He shook her slightly, but she did not stir. Normally, she would wake at the smallest sound or at a nudge from him before telling him to go away and going back to sleep. Lowering his head, he put his face in front of hers. The warm breath that normally brushed his face was not present. He felt her wrist for a pulse—there was none.
She was gone.
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Christine's sleep was interrupted quite rudely by her maid. Annoyed to have been woken from a pleasant dream about Raoul and Emma, she scowled as the other woman called out for her.
"I'm awake," she muttered. "What is it?"
"You've received an urgent message from Madame Laroche." She held out an envelope, which Christine took, frowning slightly. She opened it and read.
My dear Christine,
I am sorry to say that, if you are reading this, then I am dead and gone. I began writing these letters last month, to close friends and to those who, like you, with which I wish I had been closer. Yours was one that I knew would present me with a challenge—how can I sum up our lives in a few words? I thought of giving you advice, but you are already familiar with the frailty of life. Then I thought I would make a request of you.
Yes, my darling, life is frail and it can end as quickly as it began. However, you must understand that there is so much more to life than being afraid of death. It is our opportunity to enjoy all that that God has given us. The sweetness of life, my dear, is always living as if each day is your last. Then, when you wake up again, you realize that God has given you another day. Life is so much more than pain and trials. The pain and the trials are what makes the victories, however large or small, more enjoyable. Death is a natural part of life, whether or not the circumstances surrounding it are.
I ask that you never forget to live.
Yours in eternity,
Jacqueline Garnier-Laroche
Christine cried, weeping for the beauty that had been lost, and for realizing the truth of the words of a dying woman.
The funeral was not public. Christine received an invitation from Erik on Jacqueline's behalf, and a week later, they all gathered in the freezing cometary. While they shivered as the priest blessed Jacqueline, Christine stared at Jacqueline's daughter, barely older than her own.
Her little hand held her father's much larger one, and she stared at the casket as the priest spoke. If Erik had been a woman and much younger, she supposed this is what he would have looked like. Her hair was dark like his, but curly like Jacqueline's. Her eyes were a bright green that matched her father's exactly, down to the flecks of hazel in them. She was crying silently, leaning against Erik's side as tears slid down his cheek.
Clutching Emma a bit closer to her, Christine took a deep breath and slowly let it go as the party began to disperse. Several of Jacqueline's friends gathered around Erik, hugging him and kissing Nadine.
His gaze shifted and met hers. Telling Jacqueline to wait with Meg, who was talking quietly with Luc, Erik made his way toward her.
She had forgotten how tall he was, and how strong his arms were until, as she wrapped hers around him, he embraced her slowly. For several minutes, she held him as he cried. Then he pulled away, looking down at her again.
"Does it get any easier?"
Christine's eyes watered, and she brushed the tears away as she forced a smile. "It never goes away, but you begin to realize that everything happens for a reason." Christine squeezed his arm before letting go, picking up Emma again. "I'm moving," she said softly. "When the weather clears up."
Erik nodded. "I was surprised you stayed in Paris as long as you did. I suspect I'll do the same, but not for a while. I'm not too anxious to uproot Nadine. Where are you headed?"
"Marseille." Christine put Emma down and directed her to the carriage, which was waiting a short distance away. As she watched her go, she said, "I want to go back to the sea. It's where I'm happiest. Besides," she gestured around her, "the weather here leaves something to be desired. I could use some warm weather and sun away from people that still expect me to wear black."
"Good luck," he said quietly.
Then she surprised him. Instead of embracing him again or simply turning away, she held out a hand. Slowly, he extended his, and she shook it, as if making a deal with him.
"Do good with her," she said, nodding to Nadine. "Meg's around if you need help." She smiled encouragingly. "You'll do wonderfully."
Then she turned away, climbed into her carriage with her daughter, and she was gone.
a/n I am sorry to have done this, but I ask that you pay attention to the title... Be expecting a change in scenery.
