Hopeful Soul: A Phantom Story

Chapter Forty-Five.

ERIK:

My aggression hasn't been settled since the Apache raided my underground home, so destroying and rebuilding the attic put me at ease. Every piece of my childhood was finally gone and that comforted me. From on top of the roof, I painted the bare wood of our new attic - dressed in nothing but a rag of a shirt and tattered trousers. Christine watched me from the ground, gently cooling herself with a white fan. The spring was much hotter than anyone truly anticipated this year, "Erik, would you like something cold when you're done?"

I finally finished the paint and hopped off the roof, landing on my feet onto the porch. Christine shook her for moment before kissing me on the cheek, "I really wish you wouldn't do things like that. It's a wonder you haven't died."

"I used to say that at the opera."

She laughed and together we went indoors, "Well, the offer still stands. Anything cold, dear?"

"The iciest glass of water you can muster."

She smiled, resting her hands on her stomach as she went into the kitchen. My life was coming together - with a real home and a wife who would soon mother my children, I finally felt normal. Just about every man who had such blessings took them for granted - cheating on their wives with mistress and having families on the side of their true family. I did not understand why anyone disgrace their true family because I loved my family and half of them did not exist yet.

I untied the top laces at the neck of the shirt, then pulled off the sweaty garment. Christine came out of the kitchen with two glasses of half water and half ice. She giggled at my shirtless state and handed me the water glass, "I still have yet to get used to how slender you are."

I gulped down the glass, my throat welcoming the cold liquid. Christine sipped hers, "Rather shocking, yes? I cannot seem to hold any weight."

"At least you aren't as plump as me."

I knew now that she was most definitely pregnant, for only a pregnant woman would tear up over her weight the way she did, "Christine, I love you this way. Your subtle plumpness is womanly - appreciate it."

"Subtle?"

"Yes, subtle. You have barely gained, my dear. It is no issue to me. Besides that, you're barely two months in. Count your blessings that you aren't in confinement yet."

Christine smiled at me and embraced me tightly, but then began to weep - cursed pregnancy, "Christine, please," I removed her and set the water glasses on the counter, "What is it this time?"

"D- do you think I shall die?"

"Die? Heavens, no."

"M- my mother... she died giving birth. And so did grandmother. A- and my father's... What if it happens to me?!"

"Now, now," I lifted her up like a child, carrying her into the family room, "There have been plenty scientific advancements to help you live, Christine. Physicians and midwives will wash their hands in chlorinated lime just so you and the baby have a chance. Now, stop crying - it makes me sad when you cry, alright?"

She nodded and I kissed her again on the lips, her hands resting on her stomach, "Erik, I can feel the little bump. He's growing."

I smiled, setting her down, "Did you have the deep green vegetables today?"

"Yes I did."

"Good."

I followed her over to the writing desk and sat by her feet as she pulled out varying sheets of parchment. She then pulled out an envelope, "Writing a letter?"

"Pregnancy announcements, to be specific. Do you think we can hold a shower here? I won't bring too many people. Maybe even Nadir could come."

"Monsieur Khan would like that," I took an envelope and stood on my knees to write out his address, "There you are. Now, I shall go create a bassinet for our little bundle."

Upon climbing up the stairs, I found that Christine was finally at ease writing and sighed - peace. I climbed up the ladder to the attic took the extra wood and my tools before beginning to construct a bassinet. We had white, satin canopies and drapes from the market, while white sheets were in the linen closet in the hall. Cutting and nailing over and over was quite tiresome, but I could always remember that at least I was not creating life inside my body.

I heard the scratching of the quil stop and prepared myself for whatever moody outburst was next to come, the base of the bassinet being finished. Slow, steady footsteps came in my direction until Christine stood just above my design, "Oh, Erik, it's lovely. Better than what money can buy."

"That compliment is very appreciated, considering I'm not done," I placed cut wood inside and began to create the place our child would rest, Christine resting in the rocking chair and eyeing my work, "Dear, can you light the gas lamps? The sun is setting and it's rather hard to see."

"Of course."

As she did what I told her, and I finished the resting place, I placed down the final, golden piece which would hold up the canopy. Christine smiled giddily and stood up to kiss me, "It's really wonderful."

"Shall I decorate it, or would you like to start nesting?"

She laughed at my comment with a gentle nod, "I shall like to start what you call nesting."

"Alright. I will bring in the materials, then."

As I gathered white cotton from the linen closet and the new white canopy and drapes, I heard weeping yet again. Oh, woe is me. What a long day...