After the Scorpion

Soon the house was nearly complete and Erik took Christine furniture shopping. He bought several new lamps that were wired for electricity, and set about wiring the entire house. He wanted this dream to be a representation of the future, a testimony to the upcoming millennium. He even had a professional plumber install two toilets and a sewage system. Christine and his child would never suffer the indignity of a chamber-pot or outhouse. He had converted his old coffin into an upright curio cabinet, to hold his favorite items and the opera that was never to be performed. Christine found it morbid but Erik found it amusing. He had accepted the fact that they were to have separate bedrooms. It disappointed Erik to know she wasn't even comfortable with two beds in one room; she had to have walls separating herself from him. It almost seemed she was happy to be pregnant only because it meant he couldn't have her for nine months. His workers were forbidden to construct the inside; Erik had prepared several secret passages and two secret rooms within the walls. He didn't know why, it was just in his nature.
When his child was old enough he would teach them all about magic, mystery, and the secrets he contained.
It was a pleasant future to look forward to. Yet in the present, he was still coughing up blood, and took to carrying a handkerchief everywhere. He knew he was too old for this heavy work, but it was his passion, and he poured himself into the house as he had poured himself into the Opera House so many decades ago. After nearly a year of dedication, the house was ready to be lived in. Christine nearly fainted when she crossed the threshold. However, Erik began to cough violently, and collapsed to the floor in a fit. Christine dragged him over to the couch, where he grabbed the edge and pulled himself up. He told her to explore, he had already seen it. She walked through the kitchen and upstairs, admiring the switches that turned the light-bulbs on. The nursery was done in peach and white, and the blankets she'd stitched were draped across the mahogany crib. Erik had wandered out to his garden and Christine joined him.
She was amazed. A feast of flowers assaulted her eyes, multicolored and gorgeous, framing a path through the garden. On one side he had planted vegetables and fruits, and the other side held a small fish pond with a child's swing and slide. In the center of the garden stood a young maple tree, which in time would grow to enclose the entire yard with its breezy shade. Erik had plucked a rose off a small bush under the window, and Christine placed it in a vase on the dining table. She would always make sure there were fresh flowers inside the house as well as outside, to please her husband. Later that evening she cried. Erik had built her this palace, poured his life into making sure she had everything. He always tried to make her happy, and she had taken that for granted. She had pushed him away out of selfish fear, and never touched him unless necessary. He loved her, and deep inside, she loved him.
That night she went to his bed and slept beside him for the second time since their wedding night. That morning he awoke coughing and spent the day in bed. She brought him water but it only caused him to choke when he drank it. Later in the evening he came down to find her eating a solitary dinner. She yelled at him to get back in bed, but he sat down at his organ in the living room and began to play a deep, bass tune. She came to his side and asked for a lighter melody. It felt relaxing to have her near him, and he slipped his arm around her. He then began to play "If your happy and you know it" and they clapped, stomped their feet, and shouted "Hooray". Christine was glad to see Erik smiling, he so rarely did.
Later that week Christine entertained her friends in her new home, hosting a tea party and showing them around the elegant, spacious house. Erik stayed in the garden, out of view, even though he could hear little Meg asking for him. He also heard a strange buzzing noise, and slapped the air, thinking it was a bee of sorts. He sat up, then immediately became dizzy. He coughed and fainted. He awoke several hours later to find himself on his bed staring up at a somber doctor. The doctor explained that Erik had consumption, which had been aggravated by his hard physical labor. Erik stayed in bed the next few days, coughing and cursing. Christine brought him his medicine and food, but he touched nothing. Finally, over two weeks later, he was able to get out of bed and venture to the garden. He was sitting by the small fish pond when he heard a scream. He raced to the kitchen and found Christine holding her stomach. She was in labor.