Author's Notes: This was written as part of a mini fic challenge on tumblr in which the challenge I was given was things you said at the kitchen table.
Gustave poked at the eggs on his plate as Christine finished the last bite of her dry toast. She glared at her son, the scraping sound on the plate was grating on her, "Gustave, stop! Now if you want to help your father get the park ready for season you will have to finish your breakfast."
His fork stopped. He lifted it up and stabbed a piece of scrambled egg, "Mother may I have some porridge too?"
Christine felt her stomach turn at the word, "Yes."
The maid came in with a pot of coffee and two cups. "Mr. Y's breakfast is almost done. Is toast all you want, Madame?"
"Gustave would like some porridge and I could use some more toast and chamomile tea if it not too much trouble. I just cannot handle the coffee today."
"If you say so," The maid knowingly smiled at Christine before heading back to the kitchen.
"Mother may I have your coffee?"
"You may certainly not, young man!"
"What are we denying our son?" Mr. Y strolled into the dining room straitening one of his cuff links. He was immaculately dressed for heading back to the park including a new better fitting mask and wig.
"Mother wants tea again and she won't let me have her coffee."
Erik kissed Christine lightly on the lips before sitting at the head of the table, "I don't see why he can't have just a little to pep him up as he heads out with me today."
Gustave's eyes lit up as Erik took one of the cups and placed it in front of his son.
"Erik!" Christine snapped. "You are being impossible! You've been in Gustave's life barely a year and you spoil him; how can I expect you to…" She caught herself and stopped.
Mr. Y turned and looked at his wife, eyes inquisitive, "Expect me to what, Christine?"
Gustave sat his fork down quietly and watched his parents intensely. In their year together since the night of the accident, he had never seen them so prickly.
She smiled wide as she took her husband's hand, "While I shall still be able to open the season for you; I am sorry to inform you that will have find a different singer for closing out the season. And I hope I can expect you to care for this child just as much as you're going to spoil it like you have and will continue to spoil Gustave."
Speechless, The Phantom got up and knelt beside The Soprano's chair. He spread his hand across her stomach and looked up at her, tears in his eyes, "When? How long?"
"About three months. I wanted to make sure before telling you."
"Is this why you haven't been drinking your coffee, mother? You're going to have a baby?"
Christine giggled as she placed her hands on top of Erik's, "Yes. You're going to be a big brother."
"Do I have to do anything?" The boy asked in response.
Erik laughed as he leaned into his wife's arm. She giggled in response, tightening her grip on his hand.