Between Mirrors and Roses (A Phantom of the Opera Fanfiction) ✓

36: An Arrival

Erik

Christine was unpredictably emotional. She craved odd foods and suffered bouts of pitiable tears at the slightest provocation.

I learned to walk on eggshells around her, though playing the doting, concerned husband was not such a stretch. My anxiety increased with every passing day until I found myself secretly wishing I could return to substance; however, I stayed sane for Christine and the child's sakes.

The baby was due in only a few, short weeks. One afternoon, as Christine and I added the finishing touches to the nursery on the second floor, I heard her sigh and saw her rub her stomach absentmindedly. I recommended that she take a break.

She snapped a reply.

I knew she didn't intend to be cruel; her thoughts were occupied with weightier things.

Jeanette ambled into the room and handed Christine a mobile to hang above the ornate cradle. "It's a bit late to start looking, dear," she said, "but Maria knows a good wet nurse, a kind woman from the south who works for a reasonable fee."

"Give Maria our thanks, but we don't need a wet nurse," Christine replied, hanging the mobile with a definitive air.

"What?" Jeanette huffed. "But of course you must have one! It isn't proper for genteel young ladies to be feeding and tending to their own children!"

"Nevertheless, I shall."

Jeanette knew better than to argue with Christine once she had set her mind on something, especially with me in the room. So she exited with much muttering and a few backward glances at us.

I moved a bit closer to Christine. "Are you sure you don't want a nurse?" I asked. "We can certainly afford one if that is deterring you."

She shook her head. "No, in my day people take care of their own babies, and I would feel uncomfortable handing him or her to someone else." She stared at a random spot of the wall and touched a delicate hand to her forehead. "But maybe we should get one. I don't know if I can do this."

I pulled her into an embrace and felt her release a deep breath. She smelled faintly of a perfume I had recently bought her. I stroked the waves of hair that fell down her back, marveling even after all this time at the miracle that was her existence. "You are going to be a wonderful mother. Do not fret, my darling, my angel."

She pulled away from me and turned her head. "Don't call me 'angel.' I'm nothing otherworldly."

I turned her head gently back to face me. "Then what shall I call you?"

"I like being called yours." She smiled, and I noticed tears brimming in her eyes.

One welled over and trickled down her cheek, so I brushed it away. "Then you shall be mine." I kissed her forehead. "Though you must be an angel, for nothing less could have saved me."

Christine kissed me until I forgot everything but her. It did not take long.

...

Christine

Meg and her mother came to visit, and as I led them to the parlor for our usual round of tea, Mme Giry pulled Erik aside so that Meg and I could speak with some privacy.

Meg sat next to me on a loveseat. "How long until the baby will be born?" she asked right away.

I smiled fondly and touched the lump that was my stomach. "A week or two," I answered. I was big enough that walking took effort and I hardly ever saw my feet. "I'm certainly ready for this to be over. My back and shoulders ache!" I rolled them to demonstrate. "But I know that my current discomfort will soon be replaced by others."