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Happy Anniversary,
Catherine and Vincent
By Patricia Lurvey
It was an April night that was trying to assert itself as spring, yet
lacking the level of warmth that would assuredly make it so. It didn’t
seem to bother the couple standing on a balcony 19 stories up on a tall
building across from Central Park. Indeed, it appeared as if the night
was made for them as they stood together locked in an embrace, looking
out at the city before them.
Catherine stood in the comfort of Vincent’s embrace, his arms enfolded
about her as her arms hugged herself. She snuggled her head back under
his chin, contentedly gazing at all the lights. Vincent held all that
was dear to him in an embrace so loving, nuzzling Catherine’s head with
his chin. Beyond them were the lights of the city; around them were all
the lit candles that Catherine had prepared.
“It’s lovely, Catherine. As are you.” Vincent spoke softly, wanting to
credit her efforts, yet hating to break the quiet.
“It’s our anniversary, Vincent,” replied Catherine. She paused before
continuing. “I’ve been thinking about the night you found me. Do you
remember?”
Dropping his head down along her left ear, he quietly spoke. “Like it
was yesterday. It was the day my life began.”
The couple stood in contemplation. Soft music wafted out from the stereo
inside Catherine’s apartment. Minutes passed, both enjoying just being,
and being together. Both were lost in thought. It was Catherine who
stirred first. She glanced up at him and asked, “Vincent, do you know
that expression, ‘When God closes a door, somewhere He opens a window’?
”
“Yes,” replied Vincent.
“Vincent?” Catherine asked.
“Yes?”
“Thank you for being my window.”
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