Part 10

Chapter 19: Nothing Gold Can Stay

It rained the rest of the week, a hard, cold rain that signaled winter's first onset. Vincent was not surprised to find, their last day in the cottage, the light blanket of snow on the ground. Catherine had gone with Matt to pick up the van and he was alone among the white-shrouded furniture. He felt a pang as he glanced about the place; so much had happened here, so much had they learned about each other...would it ever be the same when they returned?

He busied himself folding the laundry and packing up the remaining perishables for delivery to Matt and Gertrude; the electricity would be turned off after they left and Matt would come by, as he had for some years, to see to the maintenance of the cottage. Vincent smiled. Catherine had confessed to much the same feelings of loneliness as they unfolded the furniture covers that morning. "When I was a very little girl, I used to think that this place would up and disappear over the year. It just seemed so remarkable that it would stay in one place while we were away."

Vincent pulled the last of the clothes out of the dryer and took the laundry upstairs. He had just reached the top of the landing when he heard the crunch of gravel and Catherine's voice. Vincent ducked around the corner so he would be hidden from anything Matt might see.

He heard her open the door and the light scuffing sound of a cardboard box being lifted off the table. "Here you go," Catherine said. "Thanks again for coming to shut the place down."

There was the sound of clothing brushing together as they hugged. "You take care now, Cathy," Matt said. "Call us when you get back to the city, okay?"

Vincent could hear Catherine's smile in her voice. "Will do," she replied. "Drive safe."

Matt chuckled. "You do the same. Bye now."

He heard the click of the door shut. "You can come down, Vincent," Catherine called up to him.

Vincent placed the laundry on the bed and walked back down the stairs. "Is everything all right?"

She nodded. "Yeah. Got the van---it's probably in better shape than it was when Mr. Ang lent it to us." Catherine folded her arms and the light drift of sadness crossed through their bond.

"What is it?" he asked, taking her in his arms.

"I'm being silly. We have to go back, and yet some part of me doesn't want to. Isn't that silly?"

"No," Vincent replied. "This has been a place out of time, away from our obligations. We've needed this badly, Catherine. Of course you feel torn. I feel the same."

She pulled back and took his hands in her own. "Well, as my grandmother used to say, if wishes were fishes we'd all cast nets." She bit her lower lip. "Vincent, while the van was at the shop, I asked them to tint the windows. We can leave anytime, since no one will be able to see you."

"Mr. Ang will be pleased," Vincent replied.

"He should be, since I bought it from him," Catherine said, smiling.

"You did?"

"Yes, I did. We worked it out---the van will stay at his shop, and he'll keep using it for business, but if we need it...it's ours." She touched his face. "I had to give us a way to come back, Vincent. We'll need this place, now and then."

"We will," Vincent agreed, smiling in return.

***

They left that morning, after a light lunch and quick call to Peter's answering service to let him know they were on their way back. They might have stayed the entire day, Catherine knew, but there was always the risk of the weather worsening by nightfall and with them now able to travel in daylight, she knew they'd be back home later that night.

"It's Friday and I don't have to be back to work until Monday," Catherine said, glancing over at Vincent. The hood of his cloak was pulled up and he sat low his seat to further hide from any passing cars, but she could sense his fascination with the bright, snowy world around him. "You don't mind that we didn't stay the entire weekend?"

He laughed. "Catherine, with the adventures we went through just getting up here, I wouldn't have complained if you'd wanted to leave yourself a week coming back." Vincent touched her hand where it rested on her thigh. "In all honesty, I think we'll both need the time to...transition. Much has changed since we left."

"Oh, hasn't it," Catherine replied, clasping his hand. "It seems so strange that when we drop the van back off at Paul Ang's, we'll also be back to our divided worlds. But I've never felt less divided."

He looked over at her and favored her with one of his slow, loving smiles. "Because you're not divided. Nor am I. We'll find a way to create a world for us. I promised you that, Catherine. Why don't you come below this weekend?"

"Two more days with you? How could I say no?"

Vincent laughed and the road stretched wide and free beyond them.

***

They reached New York City just as night---and a light snow---was falling. Catherine pulled the van into Ang's parking lot and stretched as she got out. Vincent came around the front of the van and took her satchel. "I'll carry it," he said. "You drove. It only seems fair."

She yawned hugely and smiled. "Thanks." Catherine used the key she'd been given and opened the back door of the grocery, locking it behind them. Soon enough, they were through the secret entrance and back in the twilight and tapping pipes of the tunnels.

"Let me send out the message that we're back," Vincent said. He tapped out a brief message which Catherine was now able to translate: Vincent to Pascal-Ang's Grocery entrance-we're back. Dinner still available?

Pascal's reply was brief, but warm. Pascal to Vincent-Pipe Chamber-welcome home, the both of you. William left a couple of plates for you.

"Oh, good," Catherine said, linking her hand with Vincent's. "I'm starved."

The pipes started echoing louder and louder with the repeating message: Vincent and Catherine are back! Vincent and Catherine are back!

Catherine laughed. "If we thought we were going to make a quiet entrance, I'm guessing we were wrong."

"We were missed," Vincent said simply. "And I've never gone away before."

As they ambled towards the more inhabited tunnels, people came out of their chambers to welcome two back---quietly, but with great affection. When they made their way to Vincent's chamber, Father came out and hugged them both fiercely. "It's good to see you back. I'm so glad you came home safely. Did you have many adventures?"

Catherine grinned up at Vincent. "Oh, only about a million."

***

After the commotion died down and they'd both eaten some of William's beef stew with homemade bread, Father wanted to hear about their trip. "The colors, Vincent, what were they like? Are they as glorious as I remember?"

Vincent nodded, seeing autumn's splendor in his mind's eye. Even if they returned again the following year, the first time he had seen such an explosion of color would remain fixed in his mind. He opened his satchel and pulled out his journal. Tucked inside were the leaves they'd carefully unpinned from the library curtains only that morning.

He handed one, a leaf crimson and gold and red, to Father, who stared at it as if he stared at the holy grail. "It's beautiful, Vincent," Father whispered. He peered up closely at his son. "Do you know you have freckles?"

Vincent chuckled. "Yes. As Catherine informed me."

"How much time did you spend outside, anyway?" Father asked, the tinge of old warnings and cautions edging his words.

"Father, did you expect I would stay inside the entire time?" Vincent asked, smiling.

"No, but---"

"Then don't worry. I have freckles because I walked outside and saw the sunlight and was unafraid of who might see me or what I might find."

A faint snoring sound drew their attention. Catherine, sound asleep in her chair. Vincent smiled at her as Father said, "Mary made up the guest chamber for Catherine."

"That won't be necessary, Father," Vincent said, meeting his father's eyes squarely.

Father's eyes widened. "That much has changed?"

"Yes," Vincent said, mindful of Father's warnings in all the years since Lisa about being cautious and prudent.

Father smiled. "Good. I'm glad for it, for you both." He gazed at his son and there was something in his eyes that Vincent had only rarely seen. "I was wrong, Vincent. And foolish—I wanted to protect you, but..." His eyes glimmered. "Love is what makes life worth living. In protecting you from the hurt, I would have protected you from the joy as well. I'm just sorry it took me so long to come to my senses."

Vincent nodded. "Thank you, Father." He glanced over at his sleeping mate. "Let me get her settled and I'll come back. Would you be interested in a chess game when I return?"

Father tilted his head. "Oh, I don't know, Vincent. You've been gone for two weeks. Your skills may have atrophied."

Vincent grinned, showing all his teeth, in a way he hadn't felt comfortable doing for years. "Don't bet on it."

***

Catherine awoke some hours later to the feel of Vincent's body nestled against hers. They were in his chamber; the light from the stained glass window was dim but it was bright enough to see the outline of Vincent's arm around her middle. She closed her eyes, listening to the tapping of the pipes and realized it was far darker in here than normal. A quick glance at the entrance revealed why: there was a thick, ornate curtain or tapestry covering the doorway. When did that go up? she wondered; one of Vincent's exasperated, if affectionate, observations about his tunnel family was that they often considered his chamber to be an open gathering place. She realized that he must have hung it up after they arrived, perhaps while she slept, and the thought warmed her at all it symbolized, a demarcation between all that they had been before Connecticut and all that they were or might become now.

Vincent stirred and she turned her head into the copper warmth of his hair. He opened his eyes slightly and touched her face. "Catherine? Are you well?"

She smiled. "Of course I am, love. I'm home."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Epilogue: When Love and Need are One

In a tavern somewhere in New England, a bartender---a lithe, dark-haired man with three parallel scars on his cheek----hung up the phone and grinned. The noise of the bar, the clatter of the bottles and the chatter of the customers seemed very far away as Devin remembered Cathy's description of her two week vacation with his brother. He saw the sunlight and the leaves and the trees. He finally did. Maybe it wasn't south of Oz, but he made it. Even got a case of freckles to show for it.

Just then, his pager went off. He tilted the device towards the light, recognizing the area code as from Manhattan, but it wasn't Cathy's number. Dropping some more quarters in the phone, he dialed the number. "Hi, someone paged me?" he said.

"Devin, it's Jamie. I'm calling from Peter's house."

"Why, hello, Jamie. How are you doing?"

He could hear her smile over the phone. "Devin, it really worked. They got back last night. Did you know Vincent can get freckles? I didn't."

Devin chuckled. "I just got off the phone with Cathy. She's as stunned as you are." He paused. "Did everything go okay while he was gone? I know the Old Man had to be worried."

Jamie snorted. "Things were so boring around here, Father broke out his stock of scary stories just for a little excitement." In a softer voice, she continued, "Thanks for taking my call and helping me plan this, Devin. I couldn't have done it without you."

He nodded, though he knew she couldn't see him. "I know what it's like to want something for Vincent," he replied quietly. "He's a good guy."

"They're both good people," Jamie said. "And we shouldn't have bullied him like that." There was the sound of a delighted smile in her voice. "Did you know they're getting married?"

"Yeah, Cathy told me that too. I'm glad he had it in him after all."

Jamie laughed. "So am I. Are you coming for the wedding?"

Devin nodded. "Yup. Cathy invited me. I'll be there, and Charles will too."

"Fantastic," Jamie said. "I gotta go, but thanks again."

"You're welcome. You're a good partner in crime, Jamie. Take care." He hung up the phone and smiled, the scars on his face crinkling and lending his features even more of a roguish cast. Vincent, I couldn't make all your dreams come true when we were kids, but I could damn near help you realize them now. My hat's off to you, Fuzz.

Returning to the bar, he announced, "A round on the house! My brother's getting married!"

***

In an apartment far above the streets of New York City, Catherine packed and padded and boxed her memories of the life before she had known Vincent. They were to be married soon and with his acquiescence, she'd found an old brownstone in need of some serious renovation...but which also had a tunnel entrance. It was to be their place between the worlds, some small space of the universe where they could live and their worlds could join. It would never be perfect, it would never be Fifth Avenue and ice cream in the sunshine, but it would be better. It would be theirs.

Catherine gazed around the place one last time, remembering the one other time she'd packed to leave and her heart throbbed at all that she'd nearly left back then. Now, it was a different kind of leaving---leaving to join her life with Vincent's as opposed to leaving for a life that would take her away from him. She felt a pang, a tug, but nothing more. Life awaited her, and she awaited it.

Vincent met her at the threshold; she would stay with him below until the brownstone renovations were complete, sorting out the path of their life below and above. Their wedding was just a few days hence. "Ready?" he asked, taking her satchel.

"Yes," she said and kissed him. "Always."

***

In a chamber far below the streets of New York City, a man sat on the edge of his bed and remembered. He remembered Anna's white, frightened face as she uncovered the dying child (Anna, I wish you had lived to see this! Father thought) and the three days of wailing and that child slowly growing better and stronger. He'd lost his heart to the boy right then---how could anyone not lose their heart to a child so determined to survive? He remembered his son taking his first steps as Devin held his hand, all the bumps and bruises and joy and sorrows that came afterwards.

And now his child was to be married this very night. Father had heard Jenny down here some hours earlier, so presumably she and Jamie and Mary were attending to Catherine. Catherine, soon to be his daughter in law. Such a thing did not seem possible---or at least, it did not to him, though he had grown to love her for the caring, bright, fierce, passionate woman she was. It did not seem possible because surely his son was not old enough—surely he was not old enough---to have a child getting married.

Devin came in. "What's up, Dad?"

Father smiled at the greeting. Devin never would call him Father, not as an adult and not since learning that Father really was his father. Perhaps they'd grow past that, eventually. "Just...remembering," Father said. "Is everything almost ready?"

Devin nodded. "Yep. Vincent's about to wear a hole in the floor pacing and Catherine's not too far from that herself, from what I hear from Jenny. But they'll survive. Are you ready for this?"

"I've officiated at a number of weddings," Father said, somewhat stiffly.

"Yeah, but it was never Vincent getting married."

Father nodded. "True. I confess I never thought I'd see this day. And I've never been more happy to be proved wrong." The mantel clock on the low bookshelf gave a thump. He glanced at it, made a mental calculation---the clock never would keep accurate time---and glanced at his other son. "It's time."

***

And then there was the afterwards, the music, the dancing, the congratulations, the repeating of the wedding kiss that had ended the ceremony, that had made them husband and wife. Catherine gazed down at the simple band that had been Margaret's and smiled across at her husband. Husband. The word defined what had been in her heart since that first flight from Connecticut. "My wife," Vincent rumbled, "shall we dance?"

Catherine stood, smiling, making sure the long folds of her mother's wedding gown were out of the way. "I thought you'd never ask," she replied, and he led her out onto the dance floor. And this time, the music wasn't just in their hearts.

THE END (for now :-)