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“Erik, I’m home,” Christine said softly as she stepped in through the front door of their house. “By the way, I ran into Madame Giry, and she wanted me to tell you that the repairs have been made to the park’s carousel, and it will be functioning again by the time the park opens in the morning.” She kicked off her boots as she waited for a reply, but she received none.
How odd.
Moving further into their home, she peeked into a couple rooms and found her husband to be nowhere in sight. She was beginning to wonder where in the world her husband could have gone, but she decided to search the second floor before letting herself worry. She turned and walked up the stairs, taking them two at a time, but when she arrived at the top, a smile graced her features when she heard her husband’s voice softly coming from his study. Christine followed the sound and stood just outside the open door, her husband oblivious to her presence.
From inside, Erik was looking out the window into their backyard, their two-year-old son in his arms. “What else do you see, Gustave? Do you see the birdies in the nest over there?” the father cooed, pointing to the tree closest to the window.
Gustave nodded excitedly, squealing as he watched the feathered creatures. “Birdies, Papa!” he exclaimed.
“Birdies, that’s right,” Erik said with a quiet laugh. “I know you like birdies a lot. You even made up a little song about them, didn’t you?”
“Yes,” Gustave said with a giggle, clapping his hands together. “I sing for Mama.”
“Yes, I know you want to sing it for her,” Erik said with a smile as he leaned his face down to kiss his son’s forehead. “Did you want to practice it again before she gets back from her little shopping trip?”
Gustave nodded and pointed to the piano, signaling that he wanted his father to sit down. “Pwease?”
“Ah, you want me to play along this time, I see. Well then, let’s see if we can put together an accompaniment for your little song,” Erik replied, smiling as he sat down on the piano bench.
Christine could hardly smother the proud smile on her own face as she watched her husband set their son on his lap. Deciding not to interrupt their time together, she simply leaned against the doorframe, out of sight of her two boys.
Erik set his hands on the piano keys and began to play around with a little melody. He made sure to use a few staccato notes—which he knew were his son’s favorite—as he attempted to compose for the boy’s song. He paused his playing, though, when his son set his hands on top of his. “What is it, Gustave?” he asked with a quiet little chuckle. “Do you not like the melody?”
“Papa,” was Gustave’s only reply, speaking softly as he gently turned his father’s hands over.
“Yes, my boy?” Erik asked, smiling when his son placed his little hands in his much bigger palms. “What are you looking at, hm?”
“Papa,” Gustave replied, gently running his hands over his father’s.
“Yes, Papa has much bigger hands, doesn’t he?” Erik chuckled and raised his son’s fists to kiss them both. “You have cute little ones just like your Mama does.”
“Like Mama?” Gustave asked, immediately smiling at the mention of his mother.
“Yes, your mother has little hands too. Little hands with delicate fingers,” Erik said with a smile, pressing a kiss to his son’s forehead. “But I think you’ll end up with hands like Papa, and you’re going to be a little pianist. I know you’d like to be able to play music.”
“I can play piano now,” Gustave said with a giggle.
“Can you? Well, let’s hear it!” Erik replied with overly exaggerated enthusiasm, which only made his son laugh harder.
Eventually, though, Gustave focused his attention back on the keyboard and stuck out his tongue as he pressed a few keys, then looked back at his father expectantly.
“That was beautiful, my boy!” Erik said with a smile, lifting his son up so that the boy was standing on his lap. “Papa’s very proud of you. You’re going to be a little composer just like me, aren’t you?”
Gustave giggled quietly at this and set both hands on his father ’s cheeks. “Like Papa!” he exclaimed with a wide smile. “Wuv you, Papa.”
“I love you too, Gustave,” Erik chuckled, closing his eyes as he leaned his forehead against his son’s.