Chapter
Nineteen
“Emma, c-can I
talk to you?” Satine spoke, poking her head into the tent.
“Oh! Satine, I
was looking for you!” Emma spoke cheerily, with an almost devious glimmer in
her eyes. Satine smiled at her young friend, walking into the tent, and let
Emma tell her news.
“Satine…I…” Emma
paused, not quite knowing how to finish her sentence.
“What is it, come
on!” Satine urged, and playfully nudged her friend in the shoulder.
“I found
someone…”
“Emma!”
“I think!”
she spoke like an excited little schoolgirl.
“Oh, Emma darling
that’s just wonderful…who is this lucky man?”
“His name is
Daniel Morris, he’s a lieutenant.”
Satine beamed and
couldn’t help but take Emma in for a warm hug. She remembered when Emma was
yearning for love in her life so much, and although Emma wasn’t “sure” of this
Daniel Morris, Satine was joyful nonetheless. Satine sat Emma down next to her,
and was forced to change the subject.
“I…Christian and I a-are going home.”
Emma simply stared
for a moment, pushing away her sad shock.
“Oh…oh, Satine
that’s wonderful; I know how much you need to get home to little Sara. I-I’m so
happy for you…” she trailed off, not quite knowing what to do.
“Emma, it’s
alright, you don’t have to hold anything back-”
“Why do you have to go?!” Emma whined, leaning in to hug
Satine. Satine couldn’t help but suppress a sad chuckle at her young friend.
“Dear, don’t
worry…we’ll always be there; you must write. We will too, and please Emma- You
must indeed tell me what happens with Daniel. Alright?”
Emma laughed a
little, wiping a tear away before it came down her cheek.
“Of course I
will.”
“Emma?” Satine
asked, blushing a bit. “Thank you…for
everything. I was at a time when I
really needed a friend a-and you proved to be the best one I could have ever
asked for.” Satine smiled sadly.
The two friends
held each other in a tight embrace until Emma spoke up.
Wiping her eyes
she said, “Well, you had better get to that injured husband of yours. You two, you’re going home.”
“Yes,” Satine
whispered. “We’re going home”
********
“Do you have
everything, darling?” Satine shouted across the tent, dusting off her yellow
cotton skirt. Christian turned around and adjusted his crutch that he still was
not accustomed to.
“Ah! This crutch
is…so…frustrating!” Christian grunted, trying to turn around on his good leg.
“Christian, let
me help you,” Satine said, tilting her head, rushing over to his side of the
nearly vacant tent.
“No, no really
I’m fine,” Christian insisted stubbornly.
“You just said it
was frustrating…I…” Satine took a deep cleansing
breath and controlled herself. Christian had been in nearly the worst mood
Satine had ever seen him in.
“All right, if
you insist,” Satine muttered, turning around to check over her belongings.
Satine was shuffling through some old photos, when the faded yellowed framed
picture of the Moulin Rouge fell into her hands. She stared at it, her mind
flooding with memories and her eyes hazing with tears of a nearly forgotten chapter
of her life. All she had ever wanted lay in that place of desire and money; an
underground world of lust that she would never forget again. The Moulin Rouge
had been her home, until Christian. He had sparked her life with something
magical that would last longer than life. A specific memory jumped into
Satine’s mind, and she turned around and walked towards Christian until they
were nose to nose.
“We’ll leave…”
she whispered to Christian, who had stopped fussing with his crutch. “Tonight…”
she breathed into his mouth.
“…What do you
mean? W-we are leaving,” he spoke breathlessly.
“Don’t you
remember this, Christian? Think back…close your eyes,”
she spoke softly. “We’ll…leave…tonight…” she repeated, moving her lips to his
ear.
“Oh my God,”
Christian uttered. “It was so long ago, Satine. The Moulin Rouge…We’ll leave
tonight.”
A year of
indescribable memories flew through Christian in a matter of seconds, and he
exhaled deeply onto Satine’s smooth skin.
“I love you,
Satine.”
“I love you,
Christian.”
She smiled,
biting her lower lip.
“Let’s go
home…our baby wants to meet her daddy,” she finished, taking Christian’s
scarred hand and taking their last step out of a military tent, and their first
step into the next chapter of their life.
Satine had so
been looking forward to escapism from the war and the comfort of her home. But when she and Christian got off the train,
they were greeted by the same desolate grayness that they had lived through
everyday while at war.
Christian almost
became unraveled when he saw the damage done to the Notre Dame cathedral. Satine steadied him from stumbling over his
crutch as she soothingly stroked his face and made promises she couldn’t keep
that everything would be all right.
When the carriage
rolled to a stop in front of their house, Christian paid the driver, grabbed
his bag and hobbled up the driveway, still not having the full hang of his
crutch.
Satine picked up
her own bag and followed her husband who was still as miserably closed off from
her as the night she found him. She saw
him make a fist and was about to knock on the door when he stopped short when
he peered through the small window by the door.
Satine picked up her pace and soon was by his side.
“Darling, what is
it?”
“I-is that
Sara? Is th-that our daughter?” he
asked, in far too much shock for tears at the moment.
Satine stared
into the window and felt her breath catch when she saw her precious daughter
playing with wooden blocks in the living room.
“That’s her,
Christian,” she whispered.
Christian nodded
in disbelief and took the brass doorknocker and gently rapped it against the
wood. Soon the door creaked open and
they came face to face with their servant, Catherine.
“Master
Christian!” she gasped. “Let me take
those bags from you two. What a relief
it must be to come home. Oh! Welcome back, we’ve all missed you so!”
“What’s all this hubbub in here?” Chocolat asked with a laugh. But when he saw the tired faces of Christian
and Satine, he quickly grew silent.
Satie soon
followed with Sara in his arms. She had
become frightened by all the commotion and clutched onto his shoulder. “Oh my goodness…” he said when he saw the
couple.
Satie carried
Sara slowly over to a stunned Satine and Christian and placed her into her
mother’s arms.
“Oh…oh, look what
a big girl my sweet Sara turned into. Oh…hello angel…” Satine whimpered,
letting a tear of relief and joy fall down her cheek.
“Mmm…mama,” Sara whispered, somehow sensing the delicacy of
the moment.
Satine gasped
softly, in awe of her child. She kissed her daughter’s soft curls and held her
closely, rocking back and forth.
“Sara…Sara baby,
do you want to meet daddy?” Satine smiled a bit, and lifted Sara’s head to turn
towards Christian. “This is your daddy.”
Sara studied
Christian’s face, trying to remember him. Christian finally spoke.
“H-hello
Sara…H-hi darling,” he whispered, his voice cracking a bit. He placed his rough
callused hand softly on the side of Sara’s face and she flinched
the tiniest bit.
“Mama…” she
moaned, shaking her head into Satine’s neck.
Christian blinked
away a tear and let his jaw hang open a little in shock as he withdrew his
hand.
“She won’t even
smile at me…she won’t even s-smile…” he trailed off, looking away. A tear
rolled down his cheek and he put his head into his hands. The pain of seeing
his daughter frightened of him was unbearable.
“I…I’m tired, I
think I’m going to go lay down,” he muttered, turning away from his wife and
child, walking briskly into the bedroom.
Satine stood
shocked, not quite knowing what to say or do. She simply looked at Sara’s face
again, and kissed her forehead. Another tear trickled down Satine’s cheek as
she painfully longed for the two people that she loved so dearly to become a family.
That had been a year and a half ago.
Satine’s
heart twisted at the bittersweet memory.
The time since then should have been filled with adoration and
happiness, but these past months had been hell for Satine. So painful that one cold afternoon in the
middle of January, Satine had considered taking her own life. Sara had come in unnoticed and tugged on her
mother’s dress, causing Satine to drop the knife on the counter, the blade
hitting the tile sounding like a dying man’s scream.
Sara
had given her the strength she needed to face another day.
Satine
furiously swiped at her eyes, refusing to frighten her innocent little girl
with the pain in them. She attempted a
smile and asked, “Can I sing your story tonight, darling?”
A
drowsy smile played on Sara’s lips and her bright eyes lit up. “Mama sing,” she
said happily.
I’m not going to cry, Satine said to
herself bitterly. She took Sara’s soft
blankets and tucked them up around her angel’s chin and began to sing;
There was a boy
A very strange enchanted boy
They say he wandered very far, very far
Over land and sea
A little shy
And sad of eye
But very wise was he
And then one day
One magic day he passed my way
And while we spoke of many things
Fools and kings
This he said to me,
“The greatest thing you’ll ever learn
is just to love…
and be loved in return”
Sara’s eyes had drifted shut, her tiny brown
eyelashes resting against her silky cheek.
Satine leaned down and kissed her little forehead, wishing her nothing
but wonderful dreams about fairies and princesses and poets with their muses.
Slowly,
Satine rose up from the bed and tip toed across the room, shutting Sara’s door
on her way out. She walked down the
hallway and paused when she saw a picture of herself on her wedding day,
Christian placing a light kiss on her hand.
At
that moment, a spark lit within Satine.
She wasn’t going to live like this anymore. With an edge of purpose in her step, she
rounded a corner of the hallway until she came to the half opened door of her
bedroom.
Cautiously
opening the door, the warm glow of candlelight greeted her. Inside, she saw Christian, crouched over a
pile of account papers in his lap.
Swallowing
a cry of frustration, Satine walked into the room, determined to take their
life back.
Once when our hearts were singing, I was with you…