AN: I'm going to try to update as often as I can, but summer session has started and it is HECTIC. Reviews do help me move the pen along, though *hint*
Raoul was true to his word, calling her right after classes had ended for the day. Christine was reading her copy of A Midsummer Night's Dream, her fingers lingering over certain passages over again as the phone rang.
'My ear should catch your voice, my eye should catch your eye. My tongue should catch your tongue's sweet melody – were the world mine.'
"Christine," Mrs. Giry's heels clicked on the hardwood floor as she entered her bedroom. "My dear, it's Raoul." The woman put a hand on Christine's shoulder and she reached up a hand for Mrs. Giry to deposit the cordless phone into.
"Thanks, Mrs. Giry." Christine marked her page before bringing the phone up to her ear. "Hi, Raoul."
"Hey beautiful," his voice was cheery over the phone, easy in a way it hadn't been yesterday.
"Exam go well?" Christine asked. Mrs. Giry was still in the room, she noticed. She had not heard her heels clicking away.
"Well enough, I think. But I've been too focused on that today – let's just put it aside." He was smiling on the other end of the line, she could hear it in his voice. But why? Last night had been…was still tense.
"I was wondering if you might want to go out to dinner tonight. Maybe to Gino's?"
Christine hadn't been there with Raoul for some time. It had been their spot before … well, before everything happened. It was upscale, posh in a way that had impressed her before.
"I…Gino's is kind of fancy, isn't it? Are we celebrating something?"
"Say yes," Mrs. Giry whispered to her, amusement in her tone. Christine stifled a frown.
"I just finished a major exam, Chris, I think I deserve to take my best girl out for a nice dinner. Don't you?" He sighed. "And I know I was … difficult last night. I'd like to make it up to you."
Something soured on her tongue and she swallowed heavily for a moment. What was wrong with her? Hadn't she loved going to Gino's before? Getting dressed up and going with Raoul?
"Sure," she agreed at last. "What time do you want to pick me up?"
"With this degree of scarring, the patient doesn't have great odds of getting sight back," Dr. Shishida's voice wafted from the intercom.
Erik sat at his desk and poured over the latest article he'd sent over to Shishida. The man was a brilliant transplant specialist. And the biggest pessimist Erik had yet to meet.
"Fermin's work on full corneal transplant looks promising, though-"
"The test subjects are recent. Five years is insufficient time to verify the lasting effects of his technique," Shishida replied calmly. "I agree it is attractive but there's no guarantee. And … I am sorry, my friend, but corneal transplants are hard to come by. It's delicate."
Erik rubbed his brow and leaned back on his chair. "Difficult, not impossible. Let me worry about that. I just need to know what the chances are of this working? And lasting?"
Erik ignored the impatient sigh on the other end of the line. He was paying the consultation fees for this little talk, and so Shishida would bear whatever questions he had.
"There are some other findings I can send you," he replied at last. "Fermin's isn't the only work I would want to consider since it's so new. But it could be possible. I'd have to evaluate the current condition of the patient's eyes. Perhaps a new head scan to make sure nothing was missed or has changed."
Erik nodded. "I'll get them to you in a week."
"Very good. Good night, Destler."
"Good night, sensei." Erik hung up the phone and immediately dialed Nadir. The old man did not seem terribly impressed.
"Do you know what time it is?!"
"I think it's just past 4."
"Four. In the morning, Erik, in the morning. That's perhaps the most important part right now."
"Japan is sixteen hours ahead."
Nadir's line went quiet, his confusion palpable. "Why does that –"
"Do you think you could have Christine do a full exam again? For her eyes?" Erik hastily pushed through with the question, leaning forward in his chair. "Would she be willing?"
"That depends. Are you going to help her get her eyesight back, or is this some professional curiosity you're sorting out?"
Erik's eyes went skyward and he breathed deeply. "I don't know if she even can get her eyesight back. But, if that's an option, I want her to have it."
"Erik-"
"Would she go through with the tests again?"
Nadir paused again. He sighed, and Erik could hear him tap his chin with his fingers from the other side of the line.
"Yes. If you talk to her."
Christine was just finished slipping on a rose-colored dress and sweeping her hair into an elegant knot at one side of her neck when the phone again rang. She looked up from her seat on her vanity when she heard the door open.
"Phone for you, Christine. An … Erik?" Mrs. Giry elongated the name, lilting it questioningly. Christine fastened her hair with a clip and held out her hand for the phone.
"Thank you, Mrs. Giry," she replied. She did not explain who Erik was, nor did she bring the phone to her ear until she heard the click of Mrs. Giry's heels exiting the room at last.
"Christine?" Erik's voice was small and vague from where the receiver was, and Christine brought it up to her ear.
"Erik?" Christine's free hand played nervously with the silk rose sewn into her dress. "Is everything ok?"
She heard him sigh. Even that was musical.
"Yes, it's all…everything is fine. I just had a request – one I don't know how you'll react to."
Christine swallowed, something bursting in her like champagne bubbles. "You can ask me anything, Erik."
Had he just taken a sharp breath? She wasn't sure. "Erik?"
"I'm a surgeon," he said quickly. "I think I might have mentioned that."
"You have," Christine agreed.
"And my experience lies in surgical diagnostics in particular. Diagnostics which …. could help you."
She knew suddenly what he was talking about. She knew exactly what he was talking about.
"You want me to consider another surgery."
She could hear Erik sigh. "No," he said after a long while. "I want you to consider what you want. Whether you want to risk disappointment by running through diagnostics, possibly even surgery again. It is your choice."
Christine raised her head, batting away the wetness in her eyes. She was sure he could hear her ragged breathing as she tried to compose herself.
"Christine? What is it you want?"
And she did know what she wanted. And she was glad someone finally asked.
"I want to see."
Erik exhaled deeply. "Will you come to the hospital? I can run a first level of diagnostics, and I'd like to share them with a colleague that specializes in vision and neurology."
Immediately she thought to say yes, then touched the rose on her dress. Raoul.
"Does it have to be tonight?"
"Well, I'd like to get the results to my colleague for review as soon as possible, and the lab will take a day or two to finish. Is that a problem?"
I'm sorry, Raoul.
"Yes, I can make it. I can be there in an hour."
To say that Mrs. Giry was puzzled would be an understatement. Christine sat in the passenger side of her car, her good leg bouncing a little with anxiousness to arrive at their destination. Another trip to the hospital.
"I don't see why the appointment had to be today," Mrs. Giry mused aloud. "You've just been there for a check up yesterday."
Christine simply shrugged. Mrs. Giry frowned at that. It seemed Christine wasn't willing to discuss her treatment plans or her mysterious doctor – this Erik man.
"I'm just saying that you don't see very much of Raoul lately, since the – well, since you took a break from college. He's a good one."
She saw Christine shrink a little into her seat, and sighed audibly. "Honestly, why cancel your date tonight? It sounded like he was very disappointed–"
"I want to focus on my health right now," Christine clarified quickly. "I know you both have been really busy helping me since the accident, and I really want to get better."
Mrs. Giry's mouth softened. "Ma Cherie, you don't have to worry about us. I know I speak for Raoul too when I say that we will always be there to protect you. We know how much the accident has taken from you, but we will not abandon you merely because things have changed for you."
Christine pressed her forehead to the glass and said no more.
When they at last arrived at the hospital and Christine was settled into her wheelchair, Mrs. Giry wheeled her in with her usual quick step. They got to the elevator and headed to the top floor.
Mrs. Giry was still thinking about Christine's decision not to see Raoul tonight when the exam room door opened and her blood went ice cold in her veins.
The masked doctor standing in front of them was not a stranger.
Christine smiled widely and waved a hand to Mrs. Giry. "Erik, this is my guardian Mrs. Giry. Mrs. Giry, this is Dr. Erik Destler."
She remembered enough of her manners as she stared coldly at the man to nod once and murmur a quick hello. He also inclined his head and greeted her, though in a much more civil manner.
And then Christine was with him, and she found herself in the hospital chapel alone. She struck a light and lit a candle before the vesper. She blew out the match and set the candle down with more force than she intended.
It was him. She bit the inside of her cheek hard enough to bleed it. Destler was Christine's new doctor.
And the man who had taken her son away.
She stood before the lit candle and the stained glass image of Saint Frances de Chantal – the patron saint of the forgotten. In her eyes was mercy and remembrance. Giry had never wanted to smash a glass more. She turned her back to it.
"Cover the mirror, hide in your dreams," she chanted with a shaking head. "Forget what they told you – forget what it means!" She stepped away quickly from the stained glass, away from all the stained glass images that seemed to be looking at her now.
"A picture worth a thousand lies – the memory and the mirror- nothing but what came before … nothing but a closing door."
She had tried to forget. She wanted to forget that she had ever even had a child. Why now was this returning to visit her?
Mrs. Giry sat shakily, angrily, hands clasped in prayer. "Bury, my lovely – hide in your room. Bury, my lovely, and forget me soon." Her head tilted up in anguish. "Forget me, forget me now…"
He was with Christine. The thought struck her with hot anger. No, she thought angrily, I will not let you turn her from me.
"Forget me not …"
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Songs used:
Bury My Lovely by October Project