Like Father, Like Son | Phantom of the Opera

xi. At Last We Meet

MARCH 1915

GUSTAVE

"Papa! Stop running around like a mad man and look at me. I'm going to tell you something that you told me when I met them: calm down!" I said loudly. I stood in the kitchen and watched my father rushing around aimlessly, starting to act on one idea before changing his mind and starting on another. I had never seen him move so fast, but given those long legs of his, I wasn't entirely shocked.

He stopped and took a breath, shooting me a glare. "What do you mean, calm down?" he demanded. "I have to make some sort of meal for three extra people, all while trying to make a good impression on the parents of my son's significant other!"

"Yes, and?" I asked with a raised brow. "You wouldn't let me have a panic attack when I went to meet them for the first time. Why would I let you have one now?"

Papa did not look impressed. "Oh, stop with your logic and help me. What on Earth am I supposed to make for dinner?"

"Simplicity, Papa. There is no need to go all out for this; it is meant to be relaxed. Perhaps the pasta and chicken that you've mastered over the years." I had planned things out more than I cared to admit. I wanted the night to go well and for Lara and her parents to enjoy themselves, but I also knew how anxious my father could get.

He took a moment to consider that, then nodded. "Yes, yes. Simple, of course," he said as he opened a cupboard, only for his shoulders to slump when he did. "And we have no pasta. We are off to a brilliant start! Gustave, run to the store for me."

"Alright," I said as I walked into the front foyer to grab my coat and shoes. "But I'm not going back and forth, so tell me now if there's anything else that you need."

"Pick up something for a salad as well. Whatever you want, I have no particular preference."

"Anything for dessert?"

"Oh dear God, dessert!"

I snickered at my father's exclamation as I opened the door. "I'll think of something, Papa!" I called, stepping out and closing the door, then smiling at Uncle Nadir as he walked up the driveway. "Good afternoon, Uncle Nadir."

"And to you as well, Gustave," he said as he walked up the front steps and hugged me. "Where are you off to?"

"The shop. You know how Papa is when social scenarios are presented. He's an anxious mess about making a good impression and then panics until the last moment," I explained.

Nadir ran a hand through his hair, which was surprisingly still mostly quite thick and dark, with some grey in his beard and sideburns; surprising, since he had to deal with Papa and me all the time. "Ah, yes. The dinner with Lara and her parents is tonight," he said as he gave me a wink. "Don't you worry. I'll handle him."

"Thank you. I'm not sure what else to do. I tried to talk to him, which seemed to work for the moment, although I doubt it will last."

"Oh, it's probably already stopped working by now. You see, Gustave, your Papa is very much a visual learner. That comes with his remarkably creative brain, as well as his inability to hear an opinion that differs from his. So, to get a point across, you either show him your evidence or you knock the sense into him - literally."

"Well, don't hit him too hard," I said with a laugh. "I need him for tonight."

"With that man, no promises can be made in that area. Anyhow, you just relax about tonight so you can enjoy Lara's company. Let me deal with your father and his anxiety," Uncle advised.