Independence Day
By ChicagoTunnelKid

The air Below brought a welcoming coolness to Catherine’s skin. This July arrived as a hot one, and continued to be. She wasn’t sure it would be much cooler come evening when the fireworks were to happen, along with the traditional playing of Tchaikovsky’s “1812 Overture.” She and Vincent had plans to be in the music chamber for the festivities.

Vincent looked up as she entered his chamber.

“Ready?” she asked.

He sat silently at his desk, twirling a miniature US flag between his fingers. His head tilted to watch; he appeared lost in thought as the flag spun to and fro between his fingers.

Catherine laid her hand across his shoulder.

“Vincent? Is everything all right? You haven’t said a word.”

“It is Independence Day, is it not?” His head turned to look up at her, and he stopped twirling the flag.

“Yes, July 4th is when we celebrate independence from Great Britain.” As if he didn’t know that, she thought. What’s bothering him?

He looked down at the flag. “What’s it like to be free and independent, Catherine?”

At that question, she tugged his chair away from the table, and sat in his lap to gain his undivided attention. With her right arm around his neck, she used her left hand to guide his chin until his eyes met hers.

“What is this about, Vincent?” she said in her most no-nonsense voice.

“You celebrate something I can never have. You would sacrifice much of that freedom and independence to be with me. Why? Why would you give up what I wish fervently to have? To never think twice where I go, what I do, to have no one look twice, or tell me what I can’t do. Why would you give that up?”

It was a serious question, she realized. And not an invalid one. She took her time to form her response.

“Freedom requires much of us, Vincent. It cost this country a lot, and we owe a debt to those who made it possible. And I am not giving up my freedom, Vincent, not for you, or for anyone. I am exercising my freedom to choose, to be with whom I want, to love whom I want. And I choose you…want you.”

She punctuated that last with a brief kiss.

“I’m still independent. I continue to make my own decisions, except now I also think about how those decisions might impact the man I love and our relationship. Just as I suspect you do, too.” She smiled at his shy reaction at noticing his caring for her.

“What you are mostly afraid of is only a matter of geography. You live here because you must if you don’t wish ignorant people to make your life miserable. My dream for you, Vincent, is for the world to see you as I do, so that you would be free to walk Above. But my home is with you, my love is with you, and if I am Above for a while, it is only a measure of time before I’m back home with you. Always.”

She had his full attention.

“And Vincent,” she cupped his cheek, “I carry you with me wherever I go, always in my heart.” She kissed one eyelid softly, then the other, until she finally kissed his lips.

“Now, are you ready to celebrate my independence?” She winked.

“Catherine, you meant your country’s independence, didn’t you?” he teased.

“Nope. Let’s celebrate our independence, Vincent – my choice to love you, and your choice to let me!” She laughed.

He stood up, lowering her feet to the ground. Together, hand in hand, they walked out of the chamber and toward their celebration.