It felt good to be driving fast, away from the big city and its imprisoning buildings. Christine let her eyes close as the wind from the open window ripped through her hair. She imagined that she was flying.
The Saturday morning sun bore down on the BMW, and it warmed her, inside and out. She hadn't ever been this far out of the city, and she opened her eyes to see that they were driving past quaint-looking farms and woods that were just barely turning green.
She looked over to Raoul and couldn't resist smiling a little. He looked as if he had just stepped out of a high-end magazine, with his expensive aviator sunglasses and his windswept blond hair gleaming in the pure morning light.
He had picked her up early that morning, and they had been driving for several hours. She hoped he wasn't mad that she had fallen asleep for most of those hours as soon as they had hit the interstate. However, after picking her up, he had apologized for his lateness—he had spent all morning trying to find his baseball hat which he was sure he had left right there in his room. She had looked away guiltily.
Christine still felt a little shocked by last night's events. The performance she had given had shaken her, but most of all…Erik had shaken her. She was afraid and a little confused. What had he meant? He had acted so…not his usual self. Strangely. Abnormally. Why? Erik didn't act like a normal person, but she had become rather used to his abrasive, blunt, rude nature. Then last night he went and confused her again. Not that she had been acting normally. The moment had been…surreal. She had said some things that she was now embarrassed to even think about.
Something touched her hand, and she jumped a little before realizing that it was Raoul. He took her hand in his and squeezed her fingers lightly in a gesture of affection. It was easy with Raoul. He usually always let her know what he was thinking, whether it was through words or touches or body language. But Erik…was an entirely new realm. The only emotion he seemed good at emanating was angered irritation. Everything else was a complete mystery to her. She didn't know how to decipher the new expressions in his eyes.
Christine looked out over some rolling hills. It reminded her of Sweden a little bit. Of course, her memories of Sweden were probably a little romanticized, as she hadn't seen her native country in over ten years, but…still. It was relaxing to think of such a perfect place. There had to be one perfect place in the world, right? She needed that place to exist.
Thankfully most of the drive there was in comfortable silence, as the wailing of the wind rushing through the rolled-down windows prevented any relaxed conversation. Christine was glad for this time. She wanted to think, and she got the opportunity to.
She vowed to herself not to listen at any doors over the weekend. Even though Mrs. de Chagny would probably talk about her behind her back, Christine didn't want to know what she would say. Whatever Mrs. de Chagny would say would only end up making her completely miserable again. Christine was doing this for Raoul. She didn't want to throw another tantrum and make the entire weekend about her.
When Raoul pulled up to the house at last, she gaped at it, a little unbelieving. It was the biggest house she had ever seen, a gray-brick mansion with huge columns and pillars supporting a wide balcony. A sweeping driveway greeted them, and the walkway was lined with bushes and flowers, all pruned and primped to perfection. Other cars, similar in style to Raoul's, were also parked in the driveway.
"Wow," she finally said. "This is…amazing."
Raoul laughed a little. "Yeah, it's a little much, isn't it? I've never wanted anything this big. But my parents don't know a thing about subtlety, which is weird, you know, because they have old money."
He parked the car and then opened her door for her, taking her hand and leading her up the perfect walkway.
"Hey," he said softly as they went. "I know you think my mom doesn't like you, but she really does. She just takes a while to warm up to new people, okay? So don't worry about this weekend. It'll be fine."
Christine nodded, not trusting herself to speak lest she suddenly burst out and tell him that she had heard everything Mrs. de Chagny had said on Christmas Eve. That would only create more tension. So she kept her lips shut tight and allowed him to lead her inside. She followed him, almost timidly, into a large marble foyer. Raoul shut the door behind her and shouted, "I'm home!"
Almost immediately, a door to the left of them burst open, and several children tumbled out, all shrieking and screaming. Christine, not exactly used to children, shimmied behind Raoul a little as they all swarmed around him, jumping at him and pulling on his shirt. They were all clamoring for his attention, and he was handling it with all the charming charisma that he possessed. Confidence just bubbled up from him, and Christine envied him for it.
The door opened again, and three other women came out as well. Christine paled to see Mrs. de Chagny leading them, her red lips frowning a little as she observed the scene. Christine ducked behind Raoul again, wondering just what new scathing thing Mrs. de Chagny could form out of seeing this situation.
"Go on!" Mrs. de Chagny snapped, shooing away the kids. "Go on outside and play!"
Groaning childishly and dragging their feet, the children shuffled out. Raoul reached for Christine and pulled her around with a grin. Then there were awkward introductions. Mrs. de Chagny was there, of course, and the two other women were Raoul's sisters, and they were both as gorgeous as Raoul. One of them was obviously pregnant. They three of them were immaculately dressed and perfectly groomed. Christine was very aware of her frizzy, windblown hair and raw, red face.
The four of them spoke for a while, and Christine stood silently by Raoul's side, squished under his arm and unable to escape.
They talked a little bit about what Christine gathered was an Easter party that was going to be held tomorrow morning. She nearly groaned aloud. Why did she always end up going to fancy rich party? She resisted sighing and instead clutched Raoul's arm a little tighter, resolving herself. She was here for him, not herself, and she would enjoy herself and smile.
"Well," Mrs. de Chagny finally said, clapping her hands together but careful with her long fingernails. "I'll send someone out to get your luggage. Why don't you show Christine to her room so she can…uh, freshen up a bit."
Christine blushed as well as fumed inwardly. She could be upset, but she was also becoming angry as well. Maybe Erik was rubbing off on her…
Raoul took her hand and pulled her off after another minute, and he led her through the huge house.
She looked in the rooms they passed with interest. Everything was so clean, so perfect. A gentle beige was the master color, with different accents in each room: crimson reds, pale greens, browns, and other rich colors. All the furniture in each room matched. Tables and chairs obviously came together. The houses she had lived in had had furniture that was an odd assortment of what they managed to get over the years. Woods certainly did not match, neither did the walls with the furniture.
"Your home is really nice," she complimented.
"Thanks—but it's not really mine. It's my parents'. And my older brother actually inherits it."
"Oh," Christine said. She didn't know what else to say. Sorry that he didn't get a huge mansion?
"No, I'm glad," he said. "I don't want it. I've always wanted a smaller house, you know. One that wouldn't drive my wife crazy trying to keep clean." He laughed and squeezed her hand again, and a strained smile stretched her lips.
She followed him to a door down a hallway, and he opened it, saying, "This is our room."
Christine looked at him sharply. "Ours?" she questioned, trying not to sound too upset.
"Well, yeah," he said, looking a little uncomfortable. "I mean, we're dating, so my parents put us in the same room…"
"You knew they did, but you didn't say anything?" She didn't want to nag or pester, but…this topic had already caused problems in their relationship.
Raoul rubbed his face a little and said quietly, "I just didn't want it to be a big thing, all right? Nothing's going to happen. Okay? So will you please stop acting like I'm going to rape you or something? It makes me feel really bad that you keep thinking that."
Christine blinked, hurt by his short comments. She put a hand to her throat before remembering where her necklace was, and then she looked at the ground.
There was silence, but Raoul didn't apologize like she expected. Instead he said, somewhat bitterly, "I'll sleep somewhere else if you really want me to."
"It's okay," she said quietly. "We can sleep in here."
There was another pause, and then he said, "Okay. Good. Fine. It'll be fine, okay?"
"Yeah," she said softly.
A few minutes of awkward pauses followed, but eventually he reached over and took her hand to let her know that he had forgiven her and that he wanted them to be comfortable again.
Even though it was still spring, he took her out to their backyard, which was huge and sweeping. Several large, white tents were set up, and Christine assumed that they were in preparation for the party tomorrow. He took her around and showed her their pool (drained because of the weather) and their garden and other things that Christine found interesting and little awe-inspiring. She had no idea that his family was this rich.
Finally, he took her over to a section of the wide, sweeping lawn that was covered with large trees, and they sat by one.
"Won't your family be mad that you're not inside, talking to them?" she asked.
"Nah," he said easily. "They're all just in there, gossiping and talking about what they're going to wear tomorrow."
"I thought you had a brother, too," she said.
"Phil? Yeah." He shifted closer to her, and she couldn't help but feel a little lightheaded. He smelled amazing, like usual, and his shirt was thin, so when she put a hand on him she could feel his warm skin and muscles. "He'll be here tomorrow morning."
The next long while was what she blushingly thought of as 'prime make-out time.' Their long, heavy kisses were making her flushed, though she couldn't deny that she felt a hot, excited churning in her stomach. Raoul was handsome and his skin was smooth and his hands were strong, and she enjoyed the feel of them on her waist and back and hips.
They were interrupted sometime later by soft footsteps, and one of Raoul's sisters came up to them, scowling a little.
"Hey!" she snapped. "We've been looking for you everywhere."
Christine quickly unwound her arms from around his neck, feeling sheepish and embarrassed.
"What?" Raoul said back. He looked unfazed.
"We have dinner ready, and it's getting cold while we're waiting for you. Hurry up."
"We'll be there in a sec, okay?" After his sister left, he sighed a little and then gave Christine one last lingering kiss.
As she quickly cleaned herself up for dinner, her mind wandered to Erik. She wondered what he was doing, how he was spending his weekend. He'd probably be angry to know that she had already spent a good deal of time making out with her boyfriend—anything at all that distracted her from her music made him upset. Still, she reasoned that it was good to have this time with Raoul. He deserved it after putting up with her distance for so long. And she really did like him. A lot.
Later that night, she was sitting at the wide bay window, feeling the night breeze brush her skin. She was alone, and it felt good. Raoul was down catching up with his family, and she could hear occasional laughter or excited talk. She had feigned tiredness and had gone to bed early. Dinner had been a struggle because of his mother.
If she was very quiet, she could hear the faint sounds of the ocean. It was still too cold to go to the beach, but she hoped that she would catch a glimpse of it before she left. The scent was unique and distinctive, though it was muffled over the distance. Christine rubbed her forehead, sighing a little. Her heart felt heavy; she missed Gustave. She had so much in her life at the moment, but it still felt empty without him. She had wanted him to be there for her first performance, but now she had to content herself with his watching from Heaven. He was up there…with his wife.
Christine rubbed at her stinging eyes and then huffed out another sigh, standing up and shutting the window firmly. Crying was not going to bring Gustave back. Crying didn't do anything but make her nose run and her face swell up. With a last glance to the window, she went over to the wide bed, curled up under the soft blankets, and fell asleep.
The next afternoon, Christine was standing in front of the mirror in dejection. Everything had turned out worse than she had imagined.
She had met Raoul's older brother—Philippe—at breakfast that morning and had proceeded to embarrass herself by spilling half of her eggs into her lap. His brother had laughed at her, and after that she had gone up to dress and primp a little before the party. Raoul had entered and then had gasped a little.
"Argh! I completely forgot!" he had said, clapping a hand to his forehead. "You have to wear white or cream for the party today. And I forgot to tell you."
"There's a dress code?" she had asked, feeling a little miffed. She had brought her pretty blue dress that she had worn at the gala and had been looking forward to wearing it again on Easter Sunday. "This is all I brought!"
"I know. I know. I'm sorry. Here. Lemme see what I can do." He had disappeared for ten minutes, and she had reluctantly taken off her dress.
When he returned, he had said, "Here. This is my mom's, and she said that it'll work." She took it with a nod of thanks, and he had left to let her change quickly.
And now she was dressed in Mrs. de Chagny's something that would 'work.' But it wasn't working. It was an old, moldy-looking, unflattering dress, adorned with thick lace. Christine pulled at it. It was completely shapeless and smelled like mothballs. It had to be at least twenty years old, something Mrs. de Chagny might have worn then. Christine wouldn't be surprised if Mrs. de Chagny had given it to her on purpose.
The door opened again, and Raoul stuck his head in, smiling at her.
"Hey!" he said. "You look—"
"Like I'm wearing a doily," she interrupted, tugging at the short sleeves. Raoul laughed.
"Maybe a little. But you make it look pretty. C'mon. The party's started, and my mom will throw a fit if we don't at least show up."
Christine walked over to him, trying to resolve herself to just grit her teeth and get it all over with. He led her back through the huge house, and Christine held his hand tightly. This time tomorrow, she would be back at rehearsal. She would even be grateful for the sounds of Carlotta Giudicelli's temper tantrums. Anywhere but here…They stepped out into the huge backyard.
It was like that awful work party he had made her go to, except…even worse. This place seemed even richer than his work party. Everyone was dressed up beautifully in the allowed colors, and she looked around, knowing that she wouldn't recognize anyone. Raoul held her hand and pulled her around some groups of people. He got her a glass of lemon water, and she took it with a murmured thanks, sipping it and standing near him.
To her embarrassment, there began to be almost a line of people waiting to see and talk to him. And she noticed, with further discomfort, that most of them were young women, like herself, only they seemed confident and sure and wealthy, and they were all incredibly beautiful. Raoul greeted them all with the natural charm and charisma he seemed to possess, and he was the epitome of politeness and friendliness. Sometimes he'd exclaim over a girl and hug her, introducing her to Christine as his old friend. Christine merely nodded blankly, not even bothering to remember their names.
They were all extremely flirty, she noticed after a while. They flicked their hair and flashed their white, perfect smiles, giggling at his lighthearted comments and touching him enough to make her uncomfortable. Raoul either didn't notice, didn't mind, or didn't want to make a scene. She hoped it was the latter. Still, she supposed it was only natural. She knew that he was a catch, and these girls lining up to greet him were probably devising ways to 'peg him.'
She stood there beside him, sipping glass after glass of lemon water to give her something to do. Then they slowly migrated over to a small white table, and she sat on one side of him while the other side was always occupied by another young woman who was subtly demanding his attention. As soon as the chair was vacated, another woman swooped in and sat down, crossing a long, tanned leg over the other and leaning over to put a hand on Raoul's arm and exclaiming that she hadn't seen him in the longest time.
After a while, she set her glass down on the table and waited impatiently for the pretty blonde girl talking to Raoul to leave. Christine endured a boring story about the blonde girl's recent trip to the Bahamas and another one about her last semester at Yale. Then she finally left, and Christine reached over quickly before another girl came and talked to him. She squeezed his hand to get his attention, and he looked at her.
"I have to go to the bathroom," she muttered.
"Do you need me to show you where it is?" he asked, and she shook her head.
"I'll be fine," she said.
"Are you sure?" he pressed. "It's no problem."
"I'll be fine," she repeated firmly. She didn't need him to hold her hand for everything. And…she was feeling a little annoyed at the moment. She didn't really want to be around him.
"Okay. If you say so."
Christine stood and walked past all the white tables and all the gorgeous people. She glanced over her shoulder to see that Raoul was talking to two more pretty girls, and she forced her face forward. The house was cool, and it sounded very empty. Thankfully, her shoes didn't click as she walked across the hardwood floors, and she looked around for nearly five minutes before locating a bathroom. It was large and spotless, and after she washed her hands she spent a few minutes guiltily and curiously rummaging through the cupboards, opening little decorative porcelain boxes and peering into vials and vases, prolonging the time before she would have to go back outside. In one drawer, she found an old-fashioned bottle of perfume, and she looked at it before squirting it. It sprayed directly into her face with more force than she had anticipated, and she gagged and coughed for a few minutes, rinsing her mouth out with water from the sink. The perfume was musky and reminded her of grandmothers.
Taking that as her signal to leave the bathroom, she emerged after ensuring once more that her dress wasn't caught in any embarrassing places and that her hair was still somewhat-managed.
As she tried to find her way to the back door, she started walking through rooms that were completely unfamiliar. Feeling silly for getting lost so easily, she nevertheless continued to look, though she had a suspicion that she was only getting more lost.
Still, it was interesting to wander through the house without Raoul by her side and without fearing that his mother would be in one of the rooms she wandered through. She paused in one of the rooms, noting the pictures on the wall. She smiled a little as she looked at them. It wasn't hard to tell Raoul apart, as he was always the youngest by far and had the lightest hair out of his siblings. There were several professionally-done family portraits, and she lightly touched a few of them. A couple pictures were also very informal, some of them of Raoul as a boy, grinning goofily at the camera with a smile full of missing teeth. She smiled back at them as well.
The pictures led her over to a small nook, and she looked into it interestedly. There was a window hidden from the rest of the room by a large bookshelf, and beneath the window was a cushioned bench. Christine slid over to it and peered out of the lacy curtains. It looked out into the back gardens, and she could easily see the people at the party, all still talking and laughing in that…rich way.
She kneeled down on the bench and put her chin in her hands, simply watching for a while. She felt no desire whatsoever to return there. Raoul probably wouldn't even notice if she didn't go back. He was so occupied with the line of pretty girls anxious to talk to him.
With a little angry grunt, she rubbed the bridge of her nose. She knew it wasn't his fault, not at all. He was just trying to be polite, but even still, she couldn't help the indignant feeling. And that made her feel childish as well. After sitting there for another few minutes, her mind drifted back to the Opera House, and again she wondered what Erik was doing. Maybe he was composing again. Or...working. She grimaced at that. Would Erik grow angry if she talked to him about that? Probably. Still, it was always hard for her to acknowledge and think that her genius teacher, the man who gave her diamonds, killed people for money. And in turn, that money was given to her. People's lives were paying for her apartment and food and clothing.
As she sat there, she picked up on the sound of footsteps, and she froze slightly, forcing her breathing to become nearly silent.
The footsteps neared the room, and she heard the door open.
"Christine?"
It was Raoul—the only person in the whole world who would wonder where she was. Christine debated for a few moments about whether or not to come out of the nook. She was a little embarrassed that she had so adamantly said that she didn't need his help to find her way around when she obviously was lost. Giving a silent huff, she was just about to leave when she heard another set of footsteps and a voice.
"Hey! What are you doing here?" It was a male voice, and after a second she realized that it was Raoul's older brother, Philippe.
"I'm looking for Christine," Raoul said. "You haven't seen her anywhere, have you?"
"No," Phil said. "I've been out back. Mom sent me to find you and bring you back."
Realizing that she had waited too late to reveal herself, Christine sat back down on the bench, resigning herself to a few more minutes of hiding until they left and she could sneak out and try to again find her way back to the party and pretend that she had been there all along.
"I'll come back as soon as I find Christine," Raoul said.
"Did she get lost?" Phil said with a laugh. "It seems like something she'd do."
"Yeah, she's funny that way," Raoul said. "I asked her if she needed me to show her the way, but of course she says no, and now she's probably managed to wander all the way up here."
They laughed, and Christine blushed in embarrassment and anger. She hoped that they would go away, but they remained. In fact, she heard the slight groan of furniture; they must have sat down on the sofas in the room.
"I've been meaning to ask you," Phil said. "How's it going with her?"
"Did Mom put you up to this?" Raoul said.
"Am I that obvious?" Phil said, laughing. "But seriously, bro. Just between you and me, I promise. How're things going?"
"Fine," Raoul said easily. "You can tell Mom that, too."
"I'll have to tell Mom something," said Phil. "She hates that you're dating someone who isn't even going to school, you know."
"Of course I know that," Raoul said. "And I've been trying to get Christine to go, too, but she's so hung up on this singing thing. It's hard, you know, watching her waste all this time."
Christine felt her heart constrict, and her throat grew dry. It hurt to think that Raoul sincerely believed that she was wasting her time with singing. He didn't know. He didn't know anything about Erik's music.
"Well, what can you do," Phil said, sounding every bit the older brother. "Honestly, I was surprised when Mom told me about her. But of course Mom would describe her in the worst way. I never thought you'd go for girls like that—guess I was wrong! Tell me what she's like."
Raoul said, "She's really great."
"C'mon, you can tell me," Phil said jovially. "You know, I dated a girl like her a long while ago—one of those little religious girls. They're fun for a little while, but the novelty wears off. You know what I mean?"
"Yeah," Raoul said, sounding absentminded. "But Christine is pretty awesome. I really like her."
"Oh, I see," Phil said, sounding somewhat gleeful. Christine felt her heart now pounding in her throat, and she glanced outside, seeing that the party was still continuing in its banality.
"She's pretty good-looking," Phil then said.
"She's beautiful," Raoul said, and Christine let herself smile a little at that, though she still felt a little sick from his earlier comments.
"I guess," Phil said, and his tone was indicative that he was probably shrugging with his comment. "If you're into the whole china doll look. Still, she's got a great pair of legs."
"Hey!" Raoul said. "Lay off. She's my girlfriend."
"And you can have her," Phil replied. "She looks nice, but she's…quiet. I dunno. She's really different than the other girls you've dated."
"Yeah," Raoul agreed. He laughed. "That's probably why I like her so much." There was a pause, and then Raoul said, "I'm gonna tell you something, and you're gonna laugh at me, but…whatever. Christine is really different than the other girls I've dated, and it took me a while to figure out why I liked her so much, but I finally did get it."
"What is it?" Phil said.
Raoul paused again, and Christine listened carefully, feeling her heart in her throat.
"Those other girls," Raoul began. "They would all say that they don't need a guy to take care of them or look after them—they would always tell me that they could make it on their own. But Christine has never said that. I don't know…This sounds pretty stupid, but I really like that about her. She needs a guy to take care of her, and I think she knows it. She's never pretended that she could be alone. And…well, after dating all those girls, it's a little bit of fresh air. It's like…I'm worth something to her, y'know?"
Phil made a noise in his throat, signifying him to continue.
"Anyway, maybe I'm being really sexist or something, but I feel better about myself when I'm around her. She just…is like a real girl. She doesn't pretend to be anything else, like the other girls I've dated."
Phil said, "I'm happy for you, bro. I really am. But listen to me. I'm a lot older than you, and I've had a lot more experience with women. I'm just saying that Mom is on the warpath. You getting married is the only thing she thinks about nowadays. You're the last chance to pass on our great de Chagny name."
"She gave up on you, did she?" Raoul said.
Phil laughed. "Yeah, like ten years ago, remember? But you're her last chance. Did you know that the only reason she wanted you to come up here was for this stupid garden party? She's been planning it for weeks. She wanted all these women to be here for you."
Raoul groaned. "Typical, Mom," he muttered. "Phil, I know I'll get married—probably soon, too." He sighed and then said, "Can I tell you something else?"
"Sure," Phil grunted.
"I was actually planning to propose to Christine a while ago," Raoul said. "I have the ring and everything. But the week after I bought the ring, her dad disappeared, and Christine…Well, she kind of fell apart at that. And it's been one huge thing after another—those stupid voice lessons, and then her dad's death, and now her singing…I can't seem to find the right time. And even if I did, I don't know if she'd accept anymore. She's been really out of it lately."
There was a long silence. Christine was afraid that they would hear her pounding heart. Raoul was…He had planned to propose? He had wanted her as his wife? It seemed so incredibly bizarre…so unreal…
"Wow," Phil said. "You really want to marry her?"
"Yeah, I do," Raoul said. "I really do. I mean…Phil, I even had a house picked out for us and everything. I love her."
"Wow," Phil murmured again.
"But it's just this stupid singing thing. She has this crazy voice teacher who tells her that singing is her destiny or something. It drives me crazy. She's going to spend her whole life stuck in a chorus, and then she's going to realize that she wasted all this time when she could have gone to school and done something with her life. The last thing I want to do is tell her to do something she doesn't want to. If she wanted to sing as a hobby or as a side-thing, great. But she wants to sing for her career. It's stupid, but for some reason she just won't realize it. What am I supposed to do, Phil?"
"How am I supposed to know?" Phil said comfortably. "She sounds dead-set on wasting a couple of years trying. Maybe you need to just let her."
"But then I'd have to be there when she falls apart again. She keeps setting herself up to get hurt like this because she has no idea what she's doing or talking about. You invested in that theater a couple years ago—you know what it's like. Christine has no connections; she doesn't know anyone, but she thinks that she can get by with talent alone. It's sad."
"Well, didn't you say once that you didn't care if your future wife worked or not?" Phil said. "You have enough money to get you both by. And maybe in a couple years once you start having kids she'll understand what you're saying. Then she'll stop thinking that it's her fate to be some big star."
Raoul sighed a little. "Yeah, maybe…I just hate seeing her get all worked up for something and then it doesn't work out. She's gotten hurt a lot, and it's like she's just walking into it with this thing."
"Maybe it would be—" Phi began, but Christine never got to hear what it would be, because the ringing of a phone interrupted them. For one heart-stopping second, she thought that it was her phone, but then Raoul sighed heavily.
"It's Mom," he said, and the shrill ringing was suddenly silenced. "She'll want us to come back to the party."
"Might as well," Phil said, and the furniture groaned again as they stood. "There were a couple of blondes that were checking me out."
"Phil!" Raoul said, sounding half-exasperated and half-amused.
"Hey, if you don't want them, I'll be more than happy to take them," Phil replied, his voice becoming more distant as well as the sound of their footsteps. "And you can go off and live that life of domestic bliss with Christine…"
After a few more moments, it was completely silent once again.