Author'sNote:Here's my next installment. Sorry to leave you all at a bit of a cliff hanger!
Chapter 9
"Absolutely not. I forbid it!"
"I did not come for your permission, Father."
"Vincent, you cannot do this!"
"If it is possible, then I will." Vincent turned and left the chamber, his cloak whipping around him. He stalked off to his own room, ignoring his father's calls behind him.
Vincent entered his chamber and began looking for his satchel. He flung it out of his trunk and threw it on the table. He went to the dresser and pulled out some clothes. He stalked back to the table and shoved them inside. He stomped over to the bookshelf and selected a book and was going back to the table when a movement at the doorway drew his eye. He stopped and saw Samantha standing there. He sighed and put the book gently on the table. "Come in Samantha," he said quietly.
The young girl entered slowly. She was shy, but learning to be more bold. She could hold her own against the boys her age in the Tunnels. She had connected to Vincent since she had been found 3 years ago. She especially loved his literature classes. Her wide eyes took in the satchel on the table and the things half-way in and out of it. "Are you leaving, Vincent?"
"A short trip, yes, Samantha." He sat in his chair and beckoned to the girl to come closer. She walked the rest of the way and snuggled in the curve of his arm.
"Are you going away forever?"
"No, of course not. This is my home. You are part of my family. I would never leave you forever."
"I heard..."
"You heard me and Father arguing?"
She nodded.
"Father is upset because he does not want me to take this trip."
"Where are you going?"
"Catherine wants to take me to a special place from her childhood. Father is worried that is too dangerous for me."
"Is it?"
"It is different, but Catherine and I will be very careful. She worries too and will be sure it is safe."
"You love her, don't you, Vincent."
"Yes."
"Are you going to live with her Above?"
"I cannot; you know that. She may come here, Below, though. How would that be?"
"Would she still bring us candy?"
Vincent chuckled deep in his chest. "I'm sure she will."
The next morning, Vincent went to some of the outer Tunnels. New chambers were being finished and he was to help with putting in doorways and shelves. Kanin, Cullen and Mouse had fleshed out the new rooms. There were more and more residents Below and new families being formed. More space was needed.
Catherine had spent her morning making lists and phone calls. The morning went quickly and she was surprised to see that it was 11:30. She quickly dressed and went to the basement. She quietly made her way to the entrance concealed behind old boxes and a storage cabinet. Looking around one last time, she moved the boxes and went through the doorway, pulling the boxes back in place behind her. She climbed slowly and carefully down the ladder and went through the shaft of light. She stepped through the broken brick wall and looked around. "Hello?" she called.
Samantha stepped into sight. "Hi, Miss Catherine."
"Hello, Samantha. Were you waiting long?"
"Nope." They began making their way down to the inhabited tunnels. Shyly, Samantha looked up at the woman who had captured her surrogate parent's heart. "Vincent says you are taking him away."
Catherine paused. "We are thinking of taking a trip. I would never take him away forever."
"I know," Samantha said quietly. They walked a little more. "You helped him when he was sick."
"Yes."
"Do you love him?"
"Yes." Catherine continued walking, looking straight ahead.
"Me too." Catherine looked down at the child at her side. She felt like a gauntlet had been tossed between them.
Once they were close to the "home" Tunnels, Samantha left Catherine and went off to her chores. Catherine peaked in Vincent's chamber, but it was empty. She walked down the hallway to Father's library. He was sitting at his table, writing.
"Hello, Father," Catherine said cheerfully. Since her own father had died and all they had been through with Vincent's illness and the baby, she had begun to care for him as her own father.
"Ah, Catherine," Father said shortly.
Frowning, Catherine went down the metal staircase and stood across the table from him. "Is something wrong, Father?"
"Vincent told me of your hare-brained travel plans."
"Oh," she said. She sat opposite him at the table.
"Are you both mad? Do you have any idea of what could go wrong? It is much too dangerous!"
"Father, I love Vincent. I would never do anything to endanger him."
"Taking him out of the city? To a cabin on a lake? For a walk in the sunlight? You would risk so much for such a little thing?"
"I think the risk is minimal. And a walk in the sunlight is no little thing; not for Vincent."
"But why now? He is just recovered. You are pregnant."
"Father, we have decided that I will come Below. But, we have not discussed anything else. I put it off until I was finished at work and as Vincent continued his recovery. But now, we have much to decide. We need to talk."
"Then talk here!"
"We need to be away."
"Then go somewhere Below."
"Father - " Catherine paused, seeing Vincent's shadow in the doorway.
"Father," Vincent said quietly. "Catherine and I need time together, alone. She wishes for me to see this place. I wish to see it. This trip will meet our needs and we will return, stronger and more confident." Vincent entered the room and walked to Catherine, taking her hand. "Our journey to each other has been convoluted, at best. In some ways we have gone so far; but in others, we haven't taken a step."
"Father, we will plan so very carefully. We won't leave anything to chance. Let me tell you more about this place, then you'll see."
Father leaned forward in his chair, rubbing his forehead. "I just worry so, Vincent. I nearly lost you – so many times. And now, you are better. You have found someone to love. My God! You are having a baby! And now, you are running off into the sunlight. It is too much for an old man like me."
"Father, you've raised me well. And now, you must let me live. And if I make mistakes, your teaching will help me to correct them." Vincent left Catherine and walked to his father. He grasped his shoulder and Father looked up at his son. "It will be well."
Father turned to Catherine. She smiled quietly. "All right. Go then! And get Catherine some lunch. She is starting to look green."
Instantly, Vincent's eyes were on his beloved. She shook her head a little. "I am a little hungry."
"Will you join us?" Catherine asked.
"No, I need to finish here. I'll be along in a little while. Go on."
"Father?" Vincent asked quietly.
"I'm fine, Vincent. Go on." Father nodded towards Catherine. She got up and walked to Vincent and they left the room hand in hand. Father leaned back in his chair and sighed.
Chapter 10
Mary found Father sitting in his chair an hour later, looking at the ceiling of his chamber, his eyes shiny. She had spoken to Catherine and Vincent in the dining chamber and knew what had transpired. She had a feeling she knew what was really going on in Father's head.
"Father?" she called quietly, not meaning to startle him.
Father jerked his head up and quickly passed his hand over his eyes. "Yes, Mary," he cleared his throat. "What may I do for you?" He busied himself with the papers in front of him.
"I brought you some lunch." She carried in the sandwich and teapot and set them on his table. "I spoke to Vincent."
"Well, what do you think, then?"
"I think that no matter where he wanted to go, you would disapprove." Father frowned at her. "It isn't that he wants to get away for a bit. It is that he has grown up and you don't want him to."
"I know he is an adult," Father began to bluster.
Mary held up her hand. "Yes, you know it. But unlike most children, he has not left home. He is living in the same chamber he shared with Devin as a child. He sees you every day, he looks to you for advice and employment. You have never 'cut the apron strings,' Father."
"What do you mean?"
"You need to let him go. He needs to make a new life, a new family, with Catherine. It happens all the time here, and I have often heard you advising other parents. You've never had to let Vincent go."
"Until now."
"Until now," Mary repeated.
"Ah, Mary." Father rubbed his eyes with both hands. "When did you become so wise?"
"We all have had a good teacher, Father." She patted his shoulder. "Eat your lunch. Then, talk with Vincent. Your disapproval hurts him."
"Maybe he is right. Maybe it is too dangerous."
Vincent sat in the large chair in his chamber, his head back, eyes closed. Catherine stood behind him and bowed her head at his words.
"Perhaps," she whispered.
"If the slightest thing were to go wrong... If anyone were to see us; to see me..."
"It could ruin everything," she answered.
"Yes."
Quietly, Father entered the chamber. "Then, by that logic, you should never go Above again. You should never go to Catherine's balcony, walk in the park at night, or wander the streets, helping the lost and forgotten. We should all just hole up here, underneath the city and never go out again. We should just hide here, in fear, afraid of what might happen."
"Father?" Catherine looked at him confused. Vincent sat up and looked at him as well. Father walked to the two of them and took Vincent's hand.
"I've been so afraid of what could go wrong that I won't even try. And time and again, the two of you have proven me wrong. I will worry every moment you're away, as I always do. But, if you still wish to go, I won't object."
Catherine caught Father's eye and spoke quietly. "Father, I understand your concerns because they are also mine. I won't undertake this without careful planning. If it won't work, we won't go. If Vincent has any concerns, we won't go."
Father took Catherine's hand as well. "Thank-you, my dear."
"Thank-you, Father, " Vincent said quietly.
Father straightened up and let go of their hands. "I suppose you two have much to discuss. I'll leave you in peace."
"Father," Catherine called after him. He turned back to her. "Thank-you." She knew that in a way, he was turning Vincent's care over to her. She knew what a gift it was and how difficult it was for him to give it. She hoped her simple words of gratitude emphasized all of that.
Chapter 11
A week later, just after midnight, early on a Saturday morning, a black van with tinted windows sped away from the city. Catherine talked to Vincent as she drove the dark highways north to her family's cabin by the lake. He said little, but she needed to talk. She was tired and nervous and so he let her talk.
"My grandfather gave the land to my mother when she married my father. They built a little cabin on it near the lake and spent their first anniversary there."
"A delayed honeymoon?" Vincent smiled in the dark.
"I suppose. It is very isolated – five miles from the nearest town and I don't think anyone has built anything closer. It is small, too - just one bedroom, but it is cozy and has beautiful views over the lake. I remember waking up and watching the sun rise over the water. I slept on the sofa in the main room. The only time I ever saw my father cook was at the cabin. He doted on my mother there. He would make her pancakes."
"You must have been quite the 'third wheel' Catherine."
She smiled in the dark. "I guess so, but I didn't realize it then. I was too young."
"What happened after your mother died? Did you and your father continue to go there?"
"Not at first. We didn't go back until I was fourteen. He gave me the bedroom and he took the couch. I cooked for him. He never slept in that room or cooked in that kitchen again."
Vincent was quiet as Catherine drove on in silence. "The last time he was there was when I graduated from law school. We took the weekend, just the two of us. He asked me to join his firm then. We walked in the woods and talked about how it would be – Chandler and Chandler, leaders of corporate law. He wanted me to be a partner, but I left before that happened. He was upset at first; everything about me seemed so different to him. But, once we sat down and talked about it, he didn't seem surprised that I wanted to go to the DA's office. He said it was my mother in me."
"Will you miss practicing law?"
"I don't know. I'm looking forward to spending more time with you. As you've said, our relationship has been moments, stolen here and there. I want more than that, Vincent. If quitting my job and coming Below gives it to me, to us, then it is worth it."
"You may find our world boring after the fast-paced life you lived Above."
"I may find it to be exactly what I need. Besides - "
"What, Catherine?"
"Well, I've been thinking," she said as she exited the freeway and turned on to a quieter road.
"What?"
"Most of the people who come Below could probably use some legal advice."
"That is true. Most are running from something and don't have or cannot afford the help they need. Often, our Helpers could use help as well."
"Then, maybe I could work in some sort of law practice between caring for you and raising our baby."
Vincent smiled in the dark. "I like that."
"What?"
"You caring for me and raising our baby. I never thought it could happen for me."
Catherine smiled too. "We'll care for each other. Now, let me drive. I nearly always miss this turn in the daylight. I'll probably drive right past it in the dark."
Vincent settled back in silence and let her drive. His vision allowed him to see in the dark and he watched as darkened houses turned into trees and forest. They crossed a river and he heard the trickle of water. There was still snow on the ground and he could feel the air getting thinner as they ascended into the mountains. Then, there was a clearing and a small lake emerged from the trees. On the far edge stood a small cabin. The road skirted the lake. It looked mostly frozen to Vincent, but he couldn't be sure. Catherine maneuvered the car to the back of the cabin and parked.
"I think I'll park in the back, just to be on the safe side." Catherine stopped the car and turned off the ignition. She turned and looked at him. "Do you see anyone?"
Vincent raised his head and listened as well as looked. Slowly, he opened the car door and stepped out. He turned around in a full circle. "We are alone."
Catherine smiled and emerged from the vehicle and went to the back. She opened the trunk and removed her over-night bag. Vincent came to her and took out the two bags of groceries and supplies and his own satchel. She closed the trunk and locked the car. She led the way along a snow-covered path to the front of the cabin. There was a small covered porch with a door flanked by two windows. There was a pile of wood on the porch near the door.
Catherine went to the door and opened it with the key on her ring. "I asked the care-taker to turn on the generator and bring up some firewood. Come in. Welcome to Chandler Cabin," she smiled.
Vincent entered the door, his fluffy head of hair just brushing the door jamb. Catherine moved ahead of him and turned on a light over a kitchen sink on the far side of the large room they had entered in. "Give me the groceries," she said as he stood looking around.
The room they were in seemed to take up about one-third of the entire cabin. Near the door was a fireplace, a small sofa and chair and a kitchen table with two chairs. Along the back wall was a small stove, sink and refrigerator with cabinets above. There was a small window over the sink and a larger one over the sofa. There was a closed door next to the fireplace. Catherine saw him looking over her shoulder as she unpacked the grocery bag. "The bedroom is in there," she said. "Would you take my bag in?" He put the other sack of supplies on the table and opened the door.
The other room was nearly filled with a double bed and dresser under the window. There was a door next to the bed that went to a small bathroom. Vincent set their bags on the bed and went back to Catherine. "This is delightful," he said. She smiled at him and continued with the groceries. "What can I do?"
"Can you start the fire? There is no other heat." Vincent went back to the porch and brought in an armful of wood. He set it down and began to kindle a fire. Catherine finished in the kitchen and went to the sack on the table and pulled out candles, tapers and some matches. She began to scatter the fat candles around the living room and handed the matches to Vincent. He lit the fire and then lit a taper. Catherine sank on to the sofa as he lit three candles that she had put on the mantle. She held out her hand and he came and sat beside her on the sofa. She snuggled up against him and his arms went around her automatically.
"Are you well?" he asked her.
"Mmm. I'm getting warmer."
"You must be tired. It was a long day and a long drive."
"I am tired, but I'm still kind of keyed up."
"I brought some books. Should I read to you?"
"Would you be too uncomfortable if I changed first and got tucked into bed?"
Vincent was glad she couldn't see his face, because, despite being more comfortable with her physically, this thought did embarrass him. He took a deep breath and inhaled the delightful scent of her hair. "No, my love. I would not be too uncomfortable."
Catherine rose and entered the bedroom. She removed a few things from her bag and went to the bathroom and closed the door. Vincent took another deep breath and rose from the sofa. He removed his cloak and laid it over one of the kitchen chairs. He added another large log to the well-burning fire, estimating that it would last until early morning. He debated undressing, but worried that she would emerge unexpectedly. He pulled out his nightshirt and a book of poetry from his satchel and set it next to the dresser. He looked out the window at the night. He had never been to a forest other than Central Park and he itched to go explore it. But, Catherine needed him and he needed her. He turned at the sound of the bathroom door opening. She came out dressed in a light-blue nightgown and robe. "All yours," she said with a smile. Then her brow crinkled. "Do you - "
"I'll manage, Catherine."
"Of course," she blushed. After the door closed behind him, she went to the front room and brought in the candles that were still burning on the mantle. She could tell he had fixed the fire for the night so she placed the candles on one side of the bed and began to turn down the covers. It was her turn to look up at the sound of the door opening. Vincent wore his nightshirt and robe, familiar to her from his convalescence. His cheeks looked suspiciously rosy in the dim light of the candles, but she made no comment. "Which side do you want?"
He looked at her quizzically. "Of the bed. I usually sleep on the left, but that is the side that is closer to my balcony. Do you have a preference?"
"I thought I would sleep on the sofa."
"Why?"
"Well, I..." He looked at his feet.
"Vincent, your child grows within me. Surely, we can sleep in the same bed. Besides, the cabin is still too cold. I'll freeze in here alone."
"The right."
"Pardon?"
"I prefer to sleep on the right side of the bed."
Chapter 12
Catherine sat up in the bed and stretched her arms over her head, arching her back. She looked up and saw Vincent in the doorway with the sun coming in behind him. She blushed a little and looked down.
"Good morning," he said. He had not fully dressed, but was just wearing his long shirt loose over his trousers.
"How long have you been watching me?"
"A few moments. I saw you waken." He walked over and touched her cheek. He slid his hand through her hair and down her neck. He leaned down and touched her belly. "When you stretched just now, it seemed like you had grown."
She looked down at his hand on her and clasped it. "Yes. I have. Peter estimated that I was 6-8 weeks along at that first appointment. Last week, just a month later, he measured me at 14 weeks."
"Twins?" Vincent's eyes widened in alarm.
"No, there is only one." She kissed his cheek. "Don't worry so, Vincent. You said it yourself: we are something that has never been before. Our child is unique. He is growing faster than Peter would expect, but he seems healthy. And so am I."
"'He?'" Vincent cocked his head at her.
"I have a feeling." She smiled.
He shifted so he was sitting beside her on the bed and continued to caress her stomach. She leaned back on her arms and enjoyed his touch. She could tell he was troubled by something. Patient, she waited for him to speak.
"I wish..."
"What, Vincent?" she asked gently.
"I wish I could remember."
"Remember what?"
"That night." They looked at each other meaningfully. "My memory is nearly completely restored, but that night remains absent from mind. In fact, from the time of Paracelsus's death until I awoke in my chamber remains fuzzy. But that night is entirely gone."
"It was the worst night and the best night of my life."
"Worst? Did I...? Did I hurt you, Catherine?"
"Your pain hurt me. I was so frightened for you. Father was worried about the strain of it all on your heart. I didn't know what I would find in there." She reached out and ran her hand over his shoulder. He took her hand and pressed a kiss to her palm.
"You saved me, Catherine."
"You saved me."
"I still wish..."
"I do too."
"Would you...? When I couldn't remember your name, you told me. Would you tell me...what happened...that night?" Vincent bowed his head as his cheeks flushed.
"No." His head came up suddenly.
"No?"
"No. I'd rather show you."
At her words, his heart began to pound so hard he swore she could hear it. He stood and walked to the window, needing to put a bit of distance between them. He squinted at the sun. "I do not think that would be wise, Catherine. The baby..."
"Will be fine. Didn't you read that book Peter gave us?"
"I-"
She climbed out of bed and stood behind him. "I remember that night constantly. I'm glad our Bond has not fully returned. If you knew my thoughts, you would be in a perpetual state of embarrassment."
He continued to squint at the window. "You said it was also the best night of your life."
She took his arm and turned him to face her. "It was magical." He looked down at her and pushed her hair off her forehead. "Vincent, I would give you anything. I've trusted you with my life, with everything, for some time now."
"I know," he said quietly, continuing to stroke her hair. Catherine put her hands on his waist.
"I would do anything for you."
"I know," he repeated. He brought up his other hand and cupped her face in his large, clawed hands.
"Anything," she whispered.
"I know, Catherine," he whispered again. He moved his face closer to hers and felt her soft breath on his face. Her eyelids fluttered closed. She tightened her fingers in his shirt as he came closer still and gently kissed her lips.
