A Changing Life

Closing the heavy oak door behind him, Gustave enters the foyer of the Bay Ridge house. Looking up from removing his boots, he watches his parents approach him from the hallway. Before he can shed his overcoat, Christine wraps her arms tightly around his waist, pressing her head against the fur collar.

"I am so happy to see you," she says. "I miss having you here with me."

"Maman, I can hardly breathe," Gustave says, giving Erik a puzzled look over the shoulder of his mother. "I know it has been several days since we have seen one another, but I am fine. Truly I am."

Christine draws back, looking down and away, mildly embarrassed. "I am sorry. I am feeling very emotional these days – your father can attest to that."

"Shall we let Gustave remove his coat and hat? We need to get you away from the door," Erik says, taking her by the arm. "I do not want you taking cold."

Erik. Of course he is right. Her body temperature seems to change by the minute. Then there was this overall strangeness within her body. Moments when butterflies seemed to take flight within her chest. Her monthlies no longer regular. Odd cramping and the heat – those bursts of hellish heat coming unannounced often taking her breath away.

"Christine? Are you alright?" Gloria asked when she jumped up from her chair, her copy of The Secret Garden falling to the floor as she burst into tears.

"Mam, what is wrong?" Margaret laid her own book down to take Christine's arm. "Oh, my," she whispered, "there is some blood on your skirt. Is it your time?"

"Are you sick?" Henry asked. "Should I get Pap?"

"No, dears," she choked out, holding her stomach. "I find I need to use the lavatory is all. Please continue with your reading."

"Do you want me to come with you?" Margaret asked.

"No, dear, but, perhaps you can continue with the story?"

"Why her?" Emilie piped in.

"Can you shut up just once, Emilie? For once can you just simply be quiet?" Christine snapped, wincing at the cramping, even as she cautioned herself not to berate the girl. Not slap the pout on the ever more beautiful face.

Gloria rose from the desk, shaking her head. "You can each take turns reading – one paragraph each." Nodding for Christine to go, she said, "Henry, you go first since Margaret has likely lost her place helping your mother."

Last night was perhaps the worst episode in a while. Poor Erik.

"I wonder that you put up with me," she said, rolling away from him.

"You are stealing my lines, dearest," he replied, rubbing her back. "Too much emotional stimulation."

"I want you. I do." Rolling over to face him, she caresses his cheek. "My body just feels strange."

"When I was China, I learned of an herb, dong quai. Women used it when they reached a certain age…"

The tears she had been holding back began to fall. "I am old – I am too old to be with you."

"If anyone is too old, it is I," Erik said as he brushed the tears away with his thumb. "You have what is called menopause – it is normal and natural."

"I do not know who I am anymore," she said. "I wish these new people never entered our lives. I was fine about Pappa. I really was. Now…my mind, my body. The heat sometimes is unbearable. The damp sheets must bother you."

"Sheets are washable and dryable – they are the least of it," he laughs, brushing her damp bangs away to kiss her on the forehead. "I am concerned about your health. Tomorrow I will find that herb and we will start acupuncture. I should have thought of it sooner, but you never complained."

"I do not want to cause any problems – you have Phantasma…and the children need our attention."

Taking her chin between his thumb and folded fingers, he said, "No one is more important to me than you. No one. Ever. You are my life…I would have no life without you. If you are on the verge of becoming a madwoman, I will either help pave the way or assist you in combatting the condition. But I will not leave you to be so upset."

"Either one?"

"Either one, although I should not mind a bit of both," he laughed. "You are quite attractive when showing spunk."

"Do you suppose we could try making love again?"

"Are you certain?"

The taste of bile rose in her throat. "Perhaps you could just hold me…"

Tucking her close to him, her back pressed against his chest, he nuzzled his face in her hair. "This may not be the best time to bring this up, but perhaps talking to another woman…Veronique…or, if it does not sound too premature…Bridget…or Maddie?"

"I have not seen Bridget in years…she is a stranger. You think Maddie?"

"In another time, I would have suggested Adele."

A shock of cold stiffens her back, causing a shiver.

"What is it?"

"I snapped at Emilie the other day – I wanted to strike her…I almost did."

"Did you? I am certain you had a good reason. Our daughter can be quite provocative," Erik chuckled. "What does that have to do with Adele?"

"What if I become like her because of this…these feelings I am going through," she said, pushing herself closer to him, clutching his hand to her chest.

"I am no expert about this, even reading what I can to help you…but I am fairly certain what possessed Adele to take Meg's life had nothing to do with the life changes you are experiencing. Theirs was a long history – some you were aware of, some you were not. In any event, I would say, in general, women experiencing this life change do not kill their children."

"Some might. I was quite angry, not just annoyed. She was no worse than usual, more of the usual business with Margaret. Under most circumstances I would have ignored her. The feeling shocked me."

"Some might I suppose – but likely because they have other mental issues – not just annoyance," he replied. "And, more importantly, none of them are you."

"I love all the children - honestly."

"But Emilie is the most difficult."

"I do not like her…and she does not like me."

"You love her and she knows that, otherwise she would not feel so safe being contrary," Erik says. "What is significant is you did not strike her."

"No, I did not strike her."

"And you never will," he says, giving her a squeeze. "Christine Daae Saint-Rien is the warmest most loving wife and mother in the world."

"Do you really think talking to them would help?"

"Bridget and Maddie? I think you need some women in your life not attached to the theater, who have lived in a more normal world," he said. "Bridget was a friend once, why not now? She is also the same age – has children. Maddie might be like a mother for you – or at least she is closer in age to Adele and you will be able to see the difference between the two."

"I suppose you are right…as usual."

"I am just a man who loves you and as a man I really do not understand everything that is troubling you. Perhaps the meeting brought up some terrible feelings but might be a blessing for you as well."

Erik. What would she do without him? Husband and friend. There is no one else, she realizes. All this business with discovering new family members brought that reality home. Gustave, perhaps, came close, but he is creating his own life with Julia, as it should be. The other children will be finding their own paths as well – are doing so now. And, yet, she would hold on as tightly as possible for as long as she could. Some new family members might be exactly what she needs now.

"Come into the study – get warm. We lit the fireplace for your visit," she says, grabbing Gustave's hand.

Once again looking to his father for an explanation, Erik merely smiles and nods his eldest son to move along.

"Sit down," Christine says. "Tea?"

"Tea is fine," Gustave says, taking a seat. "Maman, please what is this all about?"

"Your father and I were going to take the subway to see a moving picture on New Year's Day."

"Oh? Julia and I went to see Humoresque while in the city," Gustave says, "It was quite good, the entire holiday was quite wonderful actually. Thank you for giving us that gift. I meant to say that when I first came in. Julia has never experienced anything quite so grand as she kept reminding me."

"You are most welcome," Erik says. "We had a quiet holiday – watched the Polar Bear Club take their dip in the sea."

Gustave feigns a shiver. "They are quite mad. The ocean is bitter cold even in the summer." The hazel eyes darken and he takes a long sip of his tea. "The only time for going in the water is high summer, during full sunlight, a knowledge of swimming mandatory."

"Agreed," Erik says, looking at Christine. Would that night on the pier ever stop haunting them? When she seems unaffected by Gustave's comments, he sighs in relief. Dealing with memories of her father are quite enough for her to handle right now.

"You have some family members living not far from us," she blurts out as she pours tea for each of them. "Your father and I met them on the walk to the subway. The man's name is Oskar – he was my father's brother, so he is my uncle and so, your granduncle. His wife's name is Madeleine…yes, I know, it is odd…but she goes by Maddie. They are quite lovely people. We invited them to meet the younger children and everyone got along quite well. They have a daughter named Bridget, who was my best friend when I was a child and she has a son named Charlie who is around your age. He is partially deaf like Joshie, so it would seem there are some issues on my side of the family and not all the disabilities do not come from your father."

"Take a breath, dear," Erik laughs, taking the plate of cookies she is holding, and sets it down on the coffee table.

"Oh, Erik, I am sorry, I did not mean…"

"I am happy our children possess gifts and challenges from both of us."

"Well, that certainly is a lot of news," Gustave says. "Now that you have shared the highlights, you can tell me a bit more, a little slower and then tell me when I can meet them."