Finally, the day arrived when the bandages were to be removed. Charles and Peter met in the corridor outside Cathy’s room and decided to wait there for Dr. Sanderle when they heard laughing voices coming from inside.
“She’s good medicine for Cathy,” Peter commented.
Nodding in agreement, Charles stated, “I owe that young lady a huge debt of gratitude.”
“I doubt if she sees it that way, Charles. She’s Cathy’s friend and she loves her. She’s doing it because she wants to.”
“I’m sure you’re right. Thank god for Jenny.” Charles straightened up from the wall he had been leaning on when he saw the surgeon exiting the elevator at the opposite end of the hall.
Greeting the two tense men with a hearty handshake, Sanderle commented, “Well, today’s the big day.” His smiling, slightly plump nurse came from the nurse’s station, nodded to them, and went into the room. In her hand she held a pair of scissors wrapped in a plastic bag.
“We’ll see just how good Sanderle is,” Charles whispered to Peter. To Sanderle, he anxiously asked, “You’re sure everything will be all right?”
“Yes, there is just that one cut in front of the left ear that we may have to take care of later,” the plastic surgeon assured him. Glancing at each man, he asked, “Ready?” Smiling hesitantly, they followed him into the room.
Jenny turned a laughing face to them as they trooped into the room. With quaking shoulders Cathy was trying to contain her laughter. She suddenly became still, and Jenny’s face lost its happy expression, taking on a serious cast. This was the big moment. “Well, Cathy, today’s the day,” Sanderle said heartily, drawing near. Jenny moved to the opposite side of the bed making room for the genial physician.
Cathy sighed deeply, “Yes, it is. Do you think everything . . . will be all right?”
“There should be no problems. Shall we begin?”
“Yes,” she whispered, reaching out a hand for her best friend and her father.
“I’m here, Cath.” Jenny took her hand and held it tightly.
“I’m here, too, baby.” Charles took her other hand.
“Ok, guys, I’m scared but let’s get it over with. Peter?”
“Right here, Cathy. You didn’t have enough hands to go around,” he chuckled.
“Sorry about that,” she snickered. “I’m glad you’re here.”
“You couldn’t keep me away with a team of horses, honey.”
“I’m glad.”
Sanderle sat on the edge of the bed; the nurse took her place beside him. She placed the scissors into the hand he extended. “Now, Cathy, I’m going to cut the bandages. The incisions are still new and will be quite visible but that is to be expected and will fade in time until they will be barely noticeable. I don’t want you to be alarmed at what you see.” In the sudden silence, the sound made by the snipping scissors seemed to resonate through Catherine’s body. At last, the bandages were completely removed and Charles and Jenny gasped when they saw what had been done to her.
“Is it that bad?” Cathy asked lightly, trying to be brave.
“Honey, it’s not the way you look. It’s that someone could do this to you.”
“Oh, Cath, how could anyone do something like that?” Jenny threw her arms around her friend and held her tightly. Charles reassuringly squeezed his daughter’s hand.
“Let me have a mirror, please.” Cathy stared into
the mirror the nurse handed her. It was so hard but she tried to be brave, and she turned her head from
side to side studying the red lines on her
face.
“Believe me, Cathy, in six months you won’t even know
they are there. If I must say so myself, I did a splendid job.” Sanderle was highly pleased
with the results of his handiwork. Cathy
continued to stare into the mirror.
In his chamber Vincent was riding a roller coaster of emotions. He was still learning how to mute or block her intense emotions, and was caught unaware by the wildly fluctuating feelings now cascading though him. There was anxiety and trepidation followed by gratification and comfort then stoic acceptance and passive waiting. Then a flash of fear shot through him accompanied by a hesitant need to know. There was well-hidden dismay as if she was protecting someone and then resignation with hopeful anticipation. He would have been hard pressed to keep up a decent conversation if he had been in the company of others. As her emotions settled down, he sent her thoughts of strength and peace. She would be fine.
As Cathy continued to eye herself in the mirror, Charles became worried. “Cathy? Honey, are you all right?”
Unexpected feelings of warmth and caring flowed through her and she smiled tenderly at him. “I’m fine, Daddy. I’ll be all right.” She held her arms out to him, and he came to her as a small child in need of his mother’s comfort. Her arms wrapped around him and held him close as he wept away his fear of losing her.
“Who is comforting whom?” Peter wondered. As if she had heard him, Cathy smiled and nodded to him. I think I have underestimated this young lady, Peter thought. Cathy, herself, was surprised and wondered where this new found strength had come from. And what about that sudden warmth and tenderness that had washed away all her fear? The feeling had faded but hadn’t disappeared completely. With a jolt, she realized that someone, somewhere, cared very deeply about her. She didn’t know how she knew, she just did. But who?
“Cathy?”
“Umm?”
“Dr. Sanderle asked you about the scar in front of your ear?” Peter broke into her musings.
“Yes? What about it?” She brought her thoughts back to the present.
Sanderle gently poked and prodded the scar, “Does it bother you in any way?”
“No.”
“Well, we’ll give it time to heal completely, then we can take care of it with an office appointment.” He rose and looked down at her.
“Ok.” She gave him her most brilliant smile.
“I’ll be back to check on you this evening, then we’ll see about letting you go home tomorrow.” He shook hands with Charles and Peter and, nodding to Jenny, left followed by his nurse.
Releasing a deep sigh, Cathy stated, “Oh, it’s so good to be able to see again.”
“I’ll bet it is, Cathy,” Peter agreed.
Cathy’s smile brightened even more, if that was possible.
She was going home. Charles released a sigh of total joy; his baby was coming home.
Jenny and Peter grinned at each other, happy that this ordeal for Cathy was almost over.
“Is it all right if I take a little nap, now? I’m very tired.”
“Sure, Cath. I’ve got to go anyway,” Jenny said. “I’ve got a new author that I have a meeting with as soon as I call him. Then I’m off on a book signing tour. I’m so glad I could be here when the bandages came off.”
“So am I. Jenny, I have no words to tell you how much I appreciate all you’ve done for me.” Her eyes bright with unshed tears, she returned Jenny’s hug.
“That’s what friends are for, Cath. I’ll call you tonight.” She waved at her as she walked out the door.
“I’ll be waiting.” She sang out and heard Jenny’s answering chuckle fade away.
“Why don’t you let me buy you a cup of hospital coffee, Charles?” Peter offered. “Cathy can rest while we’re in the cafeteria.”
“All right.” He brushed a light kiss on her forehead, “I’ll be right back,” and followed Peter out of the room.
Her eyes followed them then closed briefly as she thought, How lucky I am to have such a loving father and friends. Slowly, the healing arms of sleep claimed her.
****************
“Vincent?” Father limped into the chamber and came to an abrupt halt. “My god, son, what has happened to you?” He stared in wonder at the emotionally drained and exhausted man standing in front of him. “You look terrible.”
“It is nothing to concern you, Father.” Vincent waved Father’s disquiet away then moved to sit on the bed, and spent, fell back into the pillows. How to tell his concerned parent that the bond between the woman and him had become so strong that he had difficulty telling where her feelings ended and his began.
“You can’t tell me it is nothing that concerns me when I see how exhausted you are,” his exasperated parent stated. “What has happened? Has something happened here that you haven’t told me about? Has Mouse gotten into trouble again?” Limping to the bed and laying a loving hand on Vincent’s forehead, Father felt to see if there was any fever. There was none.
“Really, Father, I am fine; I’m just tired. I didn’t sleep well last night and I walked the streets until early this morning.” He regretted lying to this man that he loved so deeply, but he could not explain how Catherine’s emotions had affected him. Father would not understand. Vincent wasn’t too sure he understood the extent of their connection himself.
“Well, if you’re sure I can’t help, I’ll leave you to get some much needed rest.”
“What did you wish to see me about, Father?” Vincent asked as his father took his leave.
“Nothing important. We can talk about it later.” Bewildered, Father left Vincent’s chamber. There was something that his son was not telling him, but Vincent would tell him in his own good time.
Vincent sank into the large well-used chair beside the
table that he used as a desk. Maybe if he put down in writing his feelings about Catherine and
the bond he seemed to have with her, he could understand it better. He uncapped his old
fountain pen and began to write: “This bond I have with her is like no other I have ever had.
I have always had a sense of those I love: Father, Devin, Mary, and to a lesser extent the others that comprise
the extended family that surrounds me. But Catherine. The bond I have with her
is all encompassing. It holds my heart, my life, my soul. It was as if, in that brief meeting of eyes,
our hearts and souls were at last united into one.”
He sat back in his chair, steepling his fingers.
This was the one woman he would love all his life, regardless of whether they would ever meet or not, there
was no other for him. He knew that with a certainty that surprised him.
****************
“For god’s sake, Vincent, watch what you’re doing,” Cullen yelled. “You almost knocked me into the wall.”
Vincent reached out and grabbed the angry man keeping him from falling. “I’m sorry, Cullen. I wasn’t paying attention.”
“What the hell’s the matter with you? You’ve been way out in left field for the last two weeks.” Cullen was not about to let this go. He was fed up with Vincent’s daydreaming and wool- gathering.
“I said I was sorry,” Vincent ground out. “Shall we get on with the job at hand?” He was having a difficult time keeping his mind on what he was doing. Inwardly, Catherine’s joy was singing through him. She was going home; she was going home. Her relief and happiness were overpowering and threatened to undermine his ability to keep on working. He simply must learn how to master her emotions as they flowed through him.
“Yeah, just so long as you keep your mind on what we’re doing,” Cullen growled back.
Vincent glowered at him and steadied his end of the pipe
on his shoulders. Mouse had the good sense to keep his mouth shut and let the situation work
itself out. He and Cullen positioned their end of the pipe against the rusty joint of the older
pipe. Working together, they finally succeeded in connecting the two pieces. Holding the old and
new pipes in place, Vincent let his mind wander to the one person that was constantly in his thoughts.
Just thinking about her brought a warm feeling to his heart, and it was a feeling he never
wanted to lose. The steady whisperings of her feelings had become the center of his universe.
If he was to lose that connection now, he
would surely lose his life. He could not exist
without it.
“There you go again,” Cullen shouted, bringing him back to earth. “Hold the damn pipe steady until we get the metal straps fastened in place.”
Vincent ducked his head in embarrassment and steadied the pipe. Mouse and Cullen hurriedly bolted the pipes into place.
“We’re done now,” Mouse said, bending to pick up his tools.
Vincent shook his shoulders easing the cramp that had settled in under his left shoulder blade and apologetically glanced over at Cullen.
Cullen caught his look and with a crooked smile said, “Sorry I blew up at you. But damn, Vincent, you sure have been spacey lately.”
“I know.” What more was there to say, he could not explain to them what was happening to him. He followed his two companions back to the main hub.
****************
Catherine bounded up the steps to her father’s house in Connecticut, but before she could open the door it was flung open by her father’s housekeeper, Adele. Quickly scooped into a huge bear hug, she was kissed soundly on the cheek. “Welcome home, Cathy,” Adele said, taking the coat that hung over Cathy’s arm, hanging it in the coat closet. “You get right in here and let me look at you.”
“I don’t know if you want to look close, Adele.
I’m not a real pretty looking sight right now.”
Cathy couldn’t help but smile delightedly at this tall,
sparse woman who had an arm tightly wrapped around her shoulders.
The perpetual frown on Adele’s face had changed into a jubilant grin of magnificent proportions. “Oh, I don’t know. It doesn’t look so bad to me. Get you out in the sun, get a little tan, and in a few months you won’t know yourself.” Charles entered the house at this time carrying some of Cathy’s luggage. There was still more in the car. You’d think she had come to stay for the year. God, how he wished she would. “Good afternoon, Mr. Chandler,” Adele greeted him. “Is there more to bring in?”
“Humph, you know my daughter . . . can’t have just one of something. Oh no, we’ve got to have half a dozen,” he groused, dumping the suitcases on the vestibule floor, and with a deep, dramatic sigh, groaned, “I’ll get the rest. Just get Cathy up to her room and into bed.”
“Dad, I don’t need to go to bed; I’m perfectly all right,” Cathy protested. “I want to see the gardens. I’ve been cooped up for ten days, and I’m going to have an attack of cabin fever if you don’t let me go outdoors.”
He glowered at her from under his eyebrows. “O, all right, but not too long. I don’t want you to overdo.”
“I’ll be careful, Daddy,” she said in her best little girl voice. Then laughing, she turned and taking Adele by the arm propelled her out into the garden. She chuckled, “Fathers. Are they all as bad as mine?”
“No, Cathy, you were lucky. You got a man who deeply loved your mother and just as deeply loves you.”
The sweet smell of fresh air made Cathy a little giddy with happiness. When she was attacked, she was terrified that she would never see her father again and that he would be left alone. She couldn’t bear to think of what that would have done to him. And then the surgery, the days spent in darkness, the sight of her face in the mirror after the bandages had been taken off, and the barrage of questions from the reporters when she left the hospital were almost more than she could handle. But something had happened to her. She had developed a strength that she didn’t know she had. Whenever she needed to be strong, azure blue, concerned eyes would come to mind and the strength would be there. She had a vague recollection of those eyes peering at her as she laid in the park then, in a flash, they were gone. She wondered briefly who the man was that had found her. He wasn’t one of the attackers of that she was certain. She wondered if he was the one who was thinking of her.
“Are you all right, Cathy?” Adele asked, concerned by her sudden stillness.
“I’m fine, Adele. I was just thinking about all that had happened.”
“It’s horrible to think that someone would do that to another person.”
“Yes, it is. I hope they catch them, but since I can’t identify them, they probably will never be caught.” Bright bits of yellow and orange caught her eye. In the light breeze, a few hardy autumn flowers--asters, mums, and marigolds--dipped their bright heads among the faded rose bushes in her mother’s garden. “Do you mind if I stay out here awhile by myself?”
“No, of course not, I need to talk to Cora about dinner anyway. Don’t stay out too long; it’s getting a little chilly. Your father will begin to worry,” Adele advised as she stepped through the open French doors.
“I won’t,” Cathy promised and wandered down the path to the rose garden that Charles had kept intact all these years after his wife’s death.
Sitting on a small garden bench, she recalled the day that her father had hired Adele. It was the day after her mother’s funeral that Adele Fitzwalter and Cora Jones entered her life. Adele was to be the new housekeeper; Cora, the new cook. Cathy resented Adele from the moment she stepped into the house. Cora was just the cook and posed no threat. Being ten years old and an only child, Cathy misinterpreted the zeal with which the new housekeeper went about her duties. She felt as if the woman was trying to take her mother’s place as mistress of the house, and she made it her duty to make the poor woman’s life as miserable as she could.
A nightmare healed the breach between them. Screaming for her mother, Cathy awoke one night about a week after the new housekeeper had arrived. Adele rushed in, clad only in a nightgown, and even though the frightened child initially tried to shove her away, she wrapped her arms around Cathy and held her tightly to her breast, whispering comforting words to her.
“I want my mommy,” Cathy wailed.
“I know you do.”
“Why did she have to go away?” the weeping child asked.
“I don’t know; no one knows,” Adele answered truthfully, “but would you like to hear what I think?” Solemnly, the child nodded. “Well,” Adele continued, “there was a baby waiting to be born that needed a soul. So, when your mother died, God took a portion of her soul and gave it to that little baby.”
“You mean there’s a baby somewhere with my mama’s soul?”
“I like to think so.”
Thoughtfully, Cathy laid back on her bed. After a few moments of silence, she looked shyly at the woman she had resented and said, “I’m sorry I’ve been so mean to you, but I thought you were trying to take my mama’s place.”
Adele tucked the covers around the small body then sat on the edge of the bed. “In a way I have, Cathy, but only in the running of the house and caring for you and your father. Your mother would have wanted someone to take care of you, but no one can take her place in your heart-- only if you let them. She will always be there.” Delicately, she poked the ten-year-old in the heart. She smiled at the sleepy child, “Do you think you can sleep now?” Nodding, Cathy turned on her side falling into a dreamless sleep. Adele sighed, reached down and brushed a lock of hair from Cathy’s forehead. She bent and lightly kissed the young sleeper. “Sleep well, Cathy,” she whispered.
Returning to her room, Adele came upon a tear-choked Charles Chandler in the hallway. “Thank you,” he managed to say before slipping into his lonely bedroom.
“My pleasure,” she offered to the closing door. From that night on Cathy and Adele became firm friends, and Adele was one reason Cathy grew up comparatively unspoiled.