Chapter 6

All that had happened weeks ago. Since then, he'd redoubled his efforts to be unavailable when Lisa was Below.

He heard a soft shuffling outside the Chamber of the Springs. He'd left an unlit lantern outside, so he was sure he wouldn't be disturbed, but if someone was waiting to use the hot springs, he shouldn't linger. Reluctantly he began to rise.

The shuffling grew louder. A shadow in the entryway alerted him to another presence within the chamber. Backing further into the water to take advantage of the deeper section of the pool, he called out, "The chamber is in use!" in case the person had somehow missed the clear sign of occupancy. He was astonished at the breach of etiquette. He couldn't imagine which of his fellow Tunnel dwellers would intrude upon his privacy in this way.

The shadowy figure stepped into the ambient light which filled the chamber. Lisa.

"I heard you'd returned," she remarked off-handedly, as if she had just met him at a bend in the tunnels instead of waylaying him in his bath. She walked over to where he'd left his towel and, however ungainly, she managed to bend and lift it. She shook it out, holding it up for him. "Shall I dry your back?"

Amazement stole his breath for a moment, then a slow anger built in him. "Lisa, I left an unlit lantern outside. You lived in these tunnels - surely you remember what that means."

"Well, I didn't think it applied to me," she replied, keeping her voice light, her tone breezy.

"It applies to everyone," he responded, uncharacteristically short with her. "Please...leave."

She pouted prettily, then sat on an outcropping of rock, the towel still in her hands. "That's not very nice. We haven't seen each other in weeks. I thought we could talk."

Stymied, unable to leave the water, Vincent resigned himself to Lisa's manipulations. Until she gave him the towel or turned away so he could at least drape his cloak about himself, he couldn't leave the pool. He bent his knees to sink further into the waters - he felt terribly vulnerable...exposed.

"I would have thought you'd be back Above by now. It's very late."

"Oh," she replied, relaxed and casual as she lounged comfortably against the outcropping, "I told Catherine to come get me after she returns from some party she's attending. She went with a friend."

The intended implication was so obvious he almost chuckled. Vincent was aware of who Catherine was with and what her relationship was with the man - he was a former partner of her father’s and she was attending an anniversary dinner celebrating the firm’s thirtieth anniversary with him. The man was in his 70s, recently widowed, someone Catherine had always called Uncle Charlie.

When she thought she wasn’t getting her point across, Lisa added, "I've met him. He's quite...a charmer." Her voice lingered over the last word, imbuing it with a suggestive insinuation.

"Catherine told me of this party. Mr. Douglass is a partner in the law firm Catherine’s father started. He’s an old family friend," he replied, hoping she’d realize her game was apparent...and failing.

Lisa shrugged. "If you say so. It seemed like a date to me."

"I would like to leave the pool, Lisa." He hoped she'd had her fun and would leave him now.

She stood and walked to the edge of the pool, again holding the towel outspread between her hands.

At that moment, footfalls sounded outside the chamber. "Lisa?" Catherine's voice.

"Come on in," Lisa called out.

Vincent's eyes widened, and he whirled to face the chamber entrance. Catherine walked in. She took in the scene before her in one swift glance. Her lips compressed into a thin, disapproving line. She strode over to Lisa and whipped the towel out of her hands, then bent and laid it by the pool's edge, where Vincent could easily reach it.

"Let's give Vincent his privacy, shall we?" she said firmly to Lisa, taking her by the elbow and practically dragging her out of the bathing chamber.

Lisa's laughter bubbled up, irrepressible, as if the whole scene had been some private joke between them instead of the rude intrusion it truly was. "But...I was just about to dry his back...."

The rest of the conversation between the two women was lost to him as Catherine quickly hustled Lisa down the tunnel.

Vincent rested his arms on the edge of the pool, his head in his hands. Through their Bond he got a clear sense of Catherine's indignation and outrage, but she was not fooled by Lisa's attempt to make her jealous, only upset that she had not anticipated Lisa's ploy. He breathed deeply, grateful to his Beloved for understanding his predicament, and for removing Lisa from the embarrassing situation she'd created. He thought to himself for the millionth time that it would be a long two months before Lisa's child was born.

September 19

One warm September evening, Catherine ventured out to the balcony, stretching and yawning hugely after putting in several arduous hours of work on a complicated brief due the next morning. She was surprised when, from the shadows, Lisa called her name. Turning, she saw a now-very-large stomach protruding from deep inside the expensive lounge chair Lisa had recently ordered.

"How are you, Lisa?" she asked politely, guardedly. Lisa normally didn’t initiate any conversations with her - monologues, yes...conversations? No.

"As well as can be expected," grumped the pregnant woman. "This kid is wreaking havoc on my body. I’ve got stretch marks! Raoul..." - that must be her masseuse, Catherine mused, the one who charges $140 an hour - "...says I’ve got to rub oil into my skin to prevent them, but really, it’s such a bother." She shifted uncomfortably. "I can’t wait for this kid to pop out so I can get on with my life!" The undisguised impatience never failed to surprise Catherine. If it were herself who was pregnant...with Vincent’s child.... Her reverie was interrupted almost immediately by another comment from within the lounge chair.

"Would you get me a bottle of water." It was a statement more than a request. With a repressed sigh, Catherine re-entered the apartment, to return a moment later with a large bottle of Evian. She walked over to the lounge chair and handed it to Lisa. She wasn’t at all surprised when the woman failed to thank her. She was about to turn to go, when a sudden inspiration hit her. She had Lisa trapped and perhaps this was a good time to force a discussion about the future - a future which was rapidly approaching. The child would be born in another month, give or take the normal unknowns about a first child.

Leaning with her back against the balcony railing, Catherine crossed her arms in front of her chest and regarded the seated woman dispassionately. Cleansing her mind of the distaste which always sprang into being at the sight of her, she forced herself to assume a carefully neutral tone and inflection. "Don’t you think it’s about time you told me everything, Lisa?"

Lisa didn’t respond for a long moment. Then she sighed deeply, as if the imposition was not to be borne. But instead of the dismissal Catherine was sure was coming next, she heard instead, "All right! If you must know.... I was in protective custody but it was awful - the food was terrible, there was nothing to do all day, no one to talk to but the agents assigned to me. So...I did what I had to do."

"Which was?" Catherine prompted. She was rapidly putting the pieces together, but she wanted to hear the confirmation from Lisa’s own lips.

Lisa sighed again, gustily. "Must I spell it out for you, Cathy? I always thought you were pretty smart."

"Humor me," Catherine replied grimly.

Lisa shrugged. "I pretended to fall for one of the agents. He was young, attractive, easy to impress - you know the type. Anyway.... So...I figured it would work better if I actually got pregnant. Of course, he wanted to marry me - as I said, you know the type. But I convinced him to let me slip away and promised to meet up with him later. It took him several weeks to arrange it, but finally it happened. I’d taken money from his wallet over time, so I had a bit, and then he gave me more. So...rather than meet him as planned, I stayed in a few places I’d rather not recall." She shuddered delicately. " But the money ran out, and...well, you know the rest - I came to you."

Catherine could imagine what had happened after Lisa had run away, the increasingly desperate phone calls to acquaintances around the world, the pleas for assistance and the deaf ears they’d fallen upon. Coming to her really must have been the only option left.

Feelings of disgust and anger rose to the surface, causing Catherine to blurt out, "And now that the child is no longer necessary to your plans, you want to dump it on those who took you in when you were small, who nurtured you and loved you. That’s the repayment you want to give them? The burden of your now inconvenient child?"

"You make it sound so cold," Lisa sniffed, unhappy that Catherine was forcing her to confront such a stark picture.

Catherine wasn’t moved by Lisa’s pique. "Is there any other way to look at it? Lisa, these people do not have a lot. Every person - child or adult - they accept into this community takes a toll on them, in terms of resources to stretch, time and attention. That they are willing to take your child does not mean that it will be easy for them...nor ‘convenient.’ Did you ever think about that?"

Again, a shrug. The look on her face betrayed not an ounce of concern. "What do you want from me?"

"What do I want?" Catherine struggled to control her outrage. "I want you to show a little responsibility for your actions! A child isn’t a commodity to be abandoned when it’s no longer useful to you. If you have no intention of living Below on a permanent basis, of taking charge of your own child, of contributing to that community, have some consideration for those who do live there and what they’d have to give up to clean up after your mess!"

Suddenly Lisa sat up, her body rigid, true emotion on her face for the first time during their conversation. "Who’s to say I wouldn’t have lived Below?" she challenged. "I’d hoped...maybe if Vincent...." Jealousy lit her features, distorting her brittle beauty. "But you’ve got him so wrapped up he can’t see straight. I realized that when I walked in on the two of you in his chamber that first day. I should have known then that I had no chance with him." The bitterness in her voice surprised Catherine. She had no idea that Lisa was capable of expressing a genuine emotion, but she obviously believed she had deep feelings for Vincent.

"You honestly assumed...after how much you hurt him before...that he’d...."

Catherine never got to finish her thought. Lisa rounded on her and exploded. "He loved me first! I always knew he loved me - first and best. And he’d have carried that torch forever, if you hadn’t turned his head with your ‘dreams’ and ‘possibilities’! You have no more intention of going to live with him than I had of making a life with that agent I told you about. I don’t know if you’re using him to avoid facing your own lonely life, or if you are self-deluded enough to think you might someday make him happy. I know he’s not happy now, and I don’t think he ever could be - with you!"

Catherine considered the vitriol with which those words had been flung at her. She knew better than to take to heart any of the spiteful conclusions this distraught woman had come to - Lisa didn’t know her, didn’t really even know Vincent, and certainly had no conception of what a true, deep, life-long commitment felt like. She was only incredibly jealous that her own blithe plans had been ruined by what she viewed as Vincent’s uncooperativeness and Catherine’s intervention.

Ignoring the taunts, Catherine re-focused the conversation on the gist of the matter before them. "The child, Lisa."

"Who cares?!"

"You should." A sudden thought struck her. "What about the baby’s father?"

"What about him?" The emotion which had animated her face moments before drained away, leaving only a mask of deception in its place.

"Does he want the child?"

"I suppose," Lisa responded casually. "He wanted to marry me, so I guess he planned to raise it."

Catherine leaned forward, eager now. "Have you considered talking to him? Maybe telling him you made a mistake and you can’t marry him, but you would like him involved in the child’s life?"

"I don’t want to be ‘involved in the child’s life’!" Lisa spat, then tossed her head and deliberately leaned back, sinking deep into the lounge chair, as if that settled the question. She took a delicate sip from the bottle of water in her hand and closed her eyes,

Refusing to be turned aside so off-handedly, Catherine cast about for another solution. "Then...what if you offered him the chance to raise his own child? It’s not unusual in such situations for a father to have primary custody, and if the mother willingly agrees...."

Lisa sighed and opened her eyes, realizing she wasn’t going to shake Catherine off on this subject. Tilting her head, she appeared to consider the last suggestion. Catherine could almost see the wheels turning in Lisa’s mind. "Maybe...." Struggling out of her chair, Lisa finally stood, then shrugged dismissively. "I’ll think about it later. Right now I want something to eat." Catherine found herself alone on the balcony, the only one of the two of them truly concerned about the future of Lisa’s unborn child.

"What’s his name," Catherine asked. She had followed Lisa back into the apartment, determined to continue this conversation.

"Who?" Coy as always, Lisa seemed just as determined to avoid giving answers.

Exasperated, Catherine grabbed her by the shoulder and turned Lisa to face her. "The agent! You’re going to give me the answers I need in order to help you, Lisa. I’m warning you, after all these months, my patience is razor thin. Don’t push me."

Lisa shook off Catherine’s hand and laughed lightly. "Or what?"

"Or I’ll call the Feds myself and explain the situation to them, ask them to find the agent for me. Maybe they don’t care that you slipped from their custody, but I’ll bet that officer would be very interested in knowing where you are and how you used him."

Lisa tried to maintain the pretense of calm, but her hands betrayed her, trembling slightly as she set down the spoon and the bowl of cereal she was eating with it. She stood with eyes gazing deep into her Cheerios. For a long moment she stood there unmoving. Finally, in a low, sullen voice, she said, "Austin Chambers."

Catherine smiled grimly. "Do you know how to get in touch with him?"

Lisa nodded, still not looking at her.

"How?" Catherine asked impatiently.

"I have his number...somewhere." Lisa waved her hand uncertainly in the general direction of the rest of the apartment.

"Get it," demanded Catherine.

"Now?" Lisa’s eyes finally sought Catherine’s, astonished. In all her time in this apartment, Catherine had never forced a confrontation with her, even when Lisa had tried to goad her into it, just for the satisfaction of watching Vincent’s precious Catherine lose her cool. Tonight’s conversation was making her fearful. She’d assumed she’d attained the upper hand in their relationship, but she was just realizing it had only seemed that way, that Catherine had ceded the field only to bide her time, letting the small victories against her accumulate, knowing all along that when the big battle came, she’d have all the ammunition she required for total annihilation of the enemy. She’d badly miscalculated with this one.

Catherine nodded, her voice hard. "Now."

Lisa moved ponderously, but went unerringly to her purse and pulled a small slip of paper from a zippered pocket. "Here."

Catherine stared at the strip of notepaper, noting the area code: Boston. She looked up as Lisa walked away. "Don’t you want to talk to him?"

"No," Lisa responded. She sat dejectedly on the bed. "It’ll be better if you talk to him first, explain things."

Always one to avoid the painful truths, the awkward confrontations, No backward glances for this one, Catherine thought to herself. "OK." She moved to the bedside phone, picked up the receiver and dialed.