Chapter Twenty-Three: Sunday, January 1, 2006, New York City
Caroline was surprised to find her Uncle Elliot waiting at the threshold to the Tunnels, under her mother's apartment building. "How did you know I wanted to talk to you?"
He smiled. "Intuition. Happy New Year." He opened wrapped her in a warm embrace.
"Happy New Year."
They walked in comfortable silence through the barely-lit labyrinth of tunnels, Caroline perfectly at ease in the dark, Elliot familiar enough with the way between Catherine's apartment and the main section of the Tunnels to not need light. It wasn't until after they'd crossed the passage where a channel of rainwater run-off cut through a deep channel in the ground, necessitating a careful hop from one side to the other—a hop Caroline had been making easily since she was a small child—that she spoke again. "How did you know when it was the right time to bring Amy Below?"
Elliot paused to hit the hidden lever, to open an ostensibly locked storm grate—one of Mouse's cleaver tricks to keep their community hidden.
Caroline pulled the heavy door shut behind them and the lock clicked back into place.
"It was something I wanted to share with her from the beginning," he finally told her.
"But you waited," Caroline countered. The tunnel ahead was bathed in flickering yellow torch light.
"I had to be sure she wanted to be with me as much as I wanted to be with her."
"How did you know?"
"It wasn't easy. We had a few rough spots. But the more I got to know her, respect her—love her—the more I felt certain she was someone who would always be my friend, someone who I could trust my darkest secrets. With your father's secrets. With Kate's. Although you'll recall she didn't exactly take meeting your father gracefully."
Caroline snickered. Amy had thrown a shoe at him out of fright—although in all fairness, the circumstances had been far from ideal. At the same as she recalled the incident with amusement, a small part of her, deep down, was filled with ice. First there had been that attack on Amy and Elliot, the night he was supposed to bring her Below for the first time. Nothing had come of it. And it wasn't as if Elliot didn't have enemies. Amy, too; she was a judge. Judges angered people and angry people acted irrationally. But then, just before winter break, Caroline found that note in her locker….. But it had to be just another prank. Some of those girls at her school were so horribly mean. It had only gotten worse as Caroline had become increasingly indifferent to their antics.
"Is everything all right?" Elliot asked.
"I'm thinking about Simon." She hated to lie—only it wasn't entirely a lie. If they were truly to be together, she would have to tell him he had far greater concerns than whether or not she could bring him to prom. If they married—someday, a long time from today—if they had children….
"Do you think he's ready to know the truth?" Elliot asked, just as they began their descent down the winding serpentine stairs. Like so many of the wonders of their world, no one knew who had put these in place or why whomever they were had tunneled so far below the city streets. According to Lin and Henry, many of tunnels under China Town had been carved out by early Chinese immigrants, but surely a handful of people seeking a safe refuge weren't responsible for the vast network of tunnels under New York City. They couldn't possibly be responsible for wonders like the tapestries of the great hall or the chamber full of stained-glass windows and Byzantine wonders that had been unearthed after 9/11.
"What I'm not certain about is myself," Caroline confided to Elliot. "Because once I show him, there's no going back. He'll never see me the same way again. I like the way he sees me, Uncle Elliot. And I feel so horribly guilty." She loved her father, thought he was handsome. Charles, too. And Janelle was so beautiful.
"I'm sure your father would tell you not to," he said.
"I am too." She paused on the steps, to peer down at the darkened tunnels below. "Simon told me…he didn't say he loves me, but he said he could love me. Could fall in love with me."
"That's a big step."
"He said he was afraid to take it. He's afraid I'll 'outgrow' him, somehow. Do you think that's possible? Do people outgrow each other?"
"People grow, Caroline. Every single one of us, every single day. Every person, every situation we encounter has an impact on our lives. No matter how old you are—or how much older or younger you are than the people closest to you—you will never stop growing. Or at least that should be your goal," he added with a smile. "When you make the choice to love someone, you commit to growing together, to working together every single day to find common ground. It's easy to grow apart, to grow away from someone, even someone you love. It's much harder to grow towards them. It's also more rewarding."
…..
Vincent met Caroline and Elliot at the entrance to the main hub. She threw her arms around his waist. "Thank you, Father."
"For?
"Being the best father in the world."
Vincent chuckled. He held her close with one arm, and clasped Elliot on the shoulder with his free hand. It had been hard for him to let Elliot go to Caroline instead of going himself—but Catherine was right. There were times a young woman might prefer to talk to someone other than her father. He was blessed to have the kinds of friends he could trust to steer his children in the right direction—friends whose judgement he could trust when they told him this young man of Caroline's was a good person, a trustworthy person. A kind and compassionate person.
Elliot gave Vincent's shoulder a quick, last squeeze and bid he and Caroline good night.
"Good night," Caroline told him.
"Sleep well, my friend," Vincent added.
"And you."
Elliot took his leave and Vincent put his arm around Caroline's shoulders. "Tell me, what have I done to deserve being dubbed the best father in the world?"
"You sacrifice so much already, but tonight, you gave up being with your friends so Simon could join us."
He chuckled. "There is very little I would not do for your happiness, Princess." He hadn't called her that in years—but he liked the way it made her smile now. "However, I must confess that my motives were not entirely selfless. If I cannot meet this young man of yours, I must rely on the reports of others to learn what kind of person he is."
"I want you to meet him."
"I would like that too, very much. When he is ready. When you are ready."
She nodded. "Tell me something, Father. How did you do it? When you first met Mother, when you felt…a connection forging between you. How did you live with the separation from her?"
"It was painful. But in it's way, it was perhaps easier than the separation you must endure."
"Because at least she didn't live on the other side of the country. Because she knew our world existed."
Her pain was palpable; it caused his heart to hurt for her.
"I know it's too soon to reveal too much. And he's going back home in a few days, anyway. But sometimes it's hard. I feel like I'm lying to him. Or…I suppose I haven't said anything that was untrue, there are simply so many things that I haven't said, so many truths I've danced around."
"Your grandfather would agree that a lie of omission is still a lie. But sometimes it is necessary."
"I know."
They walked a little further, in the quiet of the tunnels, heading towards the chamber Caroline shared with Beth. The hour was late. Most people were asleep. Only a quarter of the torches used to illuminate the stone passageways danced with light, and even the pipes lay silent.
At last, he found the courage to ask a difficult question—or at least it was difficult for a father to have to ask his daughter. "Caroline, this young man of yours, do you love him? Truly love him? And does he love you?"
"I know how I feel, that distance between us, no matter how great, doesn't matter. Not being able to share my world with him is painful because I feel as if I'm lying to him, and I hate that. I've shared everything, every other part of myself, with him. Well… you know…." She blushed.
He chuckled. "Yes, I know." There were parts of herself, things perhaps some young woman might consider sharing, that Caroline wouldn't. Couldn't. At least not until Simon understood the implications of what a pregnancy could bring.
"I think he feels the same way I do. He almost said it tonight. But even before that, I could see it in his eyes, in the way he smiles when he sees me. He doesn't treat me like I see so many other boys Above treating their girlfriends—not that he's openly asked me to be his girlfriend. I know he saw someone over the summer, some friend from school. He'd intended only to see her as friends, but she took it the wrong way and he felt horrible about it, both for her sake and for mine.
"He's respectful," she continued. "Like any boy raised Below would be, even though he has no idea how badly I could hurt him if I needed to. He opens doors and pulls out chairs. He holds my hand and kisses my cheek. We can spend hours together and it feels like bare minutes have flown by. Sometimes we talk. Sometimes we just sit together, watching the world go by. Sometimes we read together, like you and Mother do."
Vincent couldn't help but smile.
About so many things.
"It is good that he respects you without knowing how much in the interest of his own good health it is to do so."
She smiled back. "I think he has some idea what Uncle Fin might do if he didn't—but that's not why. He's made…mistakes. With girls. He admitted them all to me, right from the beginning. I feel as if he bore his soul to me, all the burdens of his heart. Yet, I'm still afraid to bear mine to him."
"Your secrets are very different."
"I know." She looked up him, then. "How will I carry those things I cannot share with anyone into the world Above? When I go away to school, when I make a career for myself up top."
"You will hold them in your heart, as so many others have, knowing that no matter where you travel, you will always have a home here. You will always have people you love you. You will always have my heart, Caroline." He drew her into an embrace. There was a tumult growing within her, a trembling in her heart that may or may not have something to do with this boy. Caroline had not gone through the same period of darkness he had as a young teen, then again, as a man, when a deep anger triggered it. Jake had gone through it. His early teens had been violent and ugly, and sometimes Vincent still saw hints of barely contained aggression in his eldest son's behavior. But Caroline had always remained in control of herself.
The sensible one, she often said.
The responsible one.
The one whose judgment they had never had cause to question.
But…was that because there was no darkness lingering beneath her surface, no trace of the beast within, or had she suppressed it all this time?
She held onto him so tightly. "I love you, Father."
….
