Erik looked in the mirror of Christine's vanity, slicking his wig over.
"Why even bother wearing it? Everyone knows it's a lie. Especially at this age," Christine snapped from the bed.
Mr. Y turned around to see the covers turned down past the small bump on his wife's body, her crossed arms resting on it. Her lips puckered into a perfect pout.
"Pout all you want, but you're not getting out of that bed, doctor's orders."
"No, your orders," she snapped again. "Dr. Bundy originally said bedrest only if I spotted again. You went behind my back and asked why should we wait, wouldn't bed rest prevent it from happening."
"It's not my fault he agreed." Erik sat down on the edge of the bed.
"Just one day, Angel," Christine leaned over and grabbed her husband's arm. "I don't even have to stand. Put me in a wheelchair. I cannot miss Gustave's first opening day."
A firm knock on the bedroom door interrupted the conversation.
"Right on time," Erik smiled. "Enter!"
The door opened to reveal Gustave in his finest tux. His light brown hair slicked back; his eyes bright.
Erik stood and smiled at his son as he patted his shoulder, "I'll leave you two. I'll meet you downstairs." He closed the door behind him.
"Oh look handsome you are, just as dapper as you were on your wedding day," Christine started to cry. "Look at my baby boy, grown, married, going to be a father, getting ready to open the park all by himself. Go tell your father I have to see it!"
Gustave chuckled, "Oh Mama. I can't let you risk one sibling for another." He sat down on the bed and took her hands into his, "Rose calls this sibling of mine God's Miracle. And I would rather you miss this opening and have you and them safe so I will have one less thing to worry about. It's terrible enough I have Rose's health and our baby's health, and the park, and the employees, and I will still worry about your health but not as much if you're in the bed."
"Oh, my dear son, you shouldn't worry so much."
"Isn't that what the boss does? It's now Young Mister's Phantasma! I am not a perfectionist control freak like Papa. I have hired way more managers for each department. I will not be writing operas and musically directing, and running the park all while trying to be a good husband and father."
"I heard one of those new managers is Rasputin. Charlotte isn't very happy."
Gustave groaned, "True but she is just going to have to find a way to deal. He is good at what he does."
"Really? After what she went through with him?"
"What did I just say, Mama? It's Young Mister's Phantasma."
Christine sighed as she swung her son's hands back and forth, "I just thought Goose would have some compassion for his sister."
The Young Mister huffed and rolled his eyes, "You sound just like my wife. Did she talk to you?"
"No, but us ladies all have a similar understanding when it comes to these things."
"I'm not going to fire him. Maybe I can set it so he doesn't work the hours Charlotte will be there for her shows, but if she goes other times, that's on her."
Mother smiled, "That wasn't so hard was it?"
The turning of the door handle caused both of them to look that way. Arthur walked in wearing a brand-new sailor outfit, "Aunt Rose sent me up because she didn't want to climb the stairs and she said neither of you would be angry at me. She sends the message that we are going to be late."
Christine leaned over and kissed her oldest son on the cheek, "Go. Have fun. I look forward to seeing the photos."