A Dark and Stormy Night (Finale)
Catherine had been successful enough in clearing up her work to forget about the world Above for the next three days. The newlyweds attended a post-mortem on the Thanksgiving play, which had gone off without major casualties; led a marathon reading of *The Forgotten Beasts of Eld*; avoided playing chess with Father; escaped to the Mirror Pool for a starlight picnic; peeled countless potatoes; broke up a fight between Kipper and Zach; helped Rebecca make candles; and made love every night.
Early Sunday evening, Catherine reluctantly forced herself to face the responsibilities of her other life. Tracking down Vincent in Father's study, she walked up behind his chair and wrapped her arms around his neck. "It's been the loveliest weekend--I hate to have it end."
"Is it time to go Above?" Vincent bowed his head to kiss her arm.
"Time for me, anyway. Would you like to stay longer?"
"No ... I need to prepare for class tomorrow, and most of the books I need are Above." He rose and took her hand. "Let's go home."
When they arrived at the house, Catherine went upstairs to her office while Vincent settled in the library. He tried to concentrate on his self-appointed task, but with little success. He would find a passage he was seeking, begin reading, and know nothing more until some sound outside would pull him out of the reverie into which he had fallen. Restless, he wandered around the room, absently touching a book here, a chess piece there. Coming to the table where several photographs rested in their silver frames, he stared a long time without touching. In one, Nancy and Paul Tucker stood with their children in front of their home. Another showed a large contingent of Aaronsons surrounding Jenny, all smiling in the light of Hanukkah candles. Peter and his daughter posed comically in front of a large cactus ... Joe Maxwell with Edie at her farewell party ... Devin and Charles ... Last was a photograph of a wide-eyed five-year-old Catherine, holding tight to her mother's hand in the Central Park Zoo.
Leaving the library, Vincent turned out the lights and made his way upstairs. More time must have passed than he'd realized; he found Catherine already in bed. Some file folders scattered around her testified to her determination to do more work, but Bulwer had apparently distracted her from her good intentions. Eyes closed in ecstasy, he kneaded her lap furiously as she petted him. Vincent could not help but smile at the sight as he began to undress. When he came to sit beside Catherine a little while later, the tableau was unchanged. "I hope Bulwer appreciates his good fortune. You seem to have become quite fond of him in a short time."
Catherine smiled up at him. "Maybe it's that beautiful golden color of his."
"Or his winning personality."
Catherine cuddled Bulwer in her arms. "Could be. Or maybe I just needed something *small* and furry to love." Suddenly, without warning, Catherine's face crumpled and she began to cry. Vincent was no more surprised than she was; Bulwer leaped from her arms as her hands flew to her face in consternation. She shook her head in denial, but the tears wouldn't stop. "Oh, God, Vincent, I'm sorry--I don't know what's come over me--"
Vincent's heart thudded in his chest. The moment of truth. He gathered her into his arms and held her close. "Yes you do, dearest, and so do I. You want a child, and have only agreed to avoid having one for my sake. I'm sorry."
"No, we both agreed--"
"That was almost a year ago, when we first became lovers. It was hardly fair on my part, was it? After years of waiting, standing in the doorway of a bedroom filled with candles and roses ... you were afraid to let anything stop us before I lost my courage. Things are different now. We must talk about it-- I've been a fool not to have seen it sooner."
"Don't you dare say that! You were only concerned for me, afraid it would be dangerous."
Vincent loosened his embrace to brush the hair from her tear-streaked face. "It may well be impossible."
"I realize that. But never to know..."
Lowering his eyes, he took her hands in his. "I know how brave you are, Catherine ... but if I were the cause of any harm to you ... I don't think I could live with that."
"Dear heart, the same danger has been faced throughout history, by every woman who's ever conceived a child. I know you've always assumed the worst, but there's no real reason to believe having your child would be any more dangerous than having anyone else's. And I want yours--only yours."
Freeing one hand from hers, Vincent lifted it before them. "Even if we are willing to face the consequences for ourselves, have we the right to create another like me? What of the child? I keep thinking of that little girl in the park, all those years ago..."
"How do you it wasn't seeing Devin that made her cry?" At Vincent's disbelieving look, she continued seriously. "Some children are easily frightened, you know--William could have scared her just as much if she'd seen him ... remember, you never frightened Eric. Or ..." Suddenly her voice softened. "Has it ever occurred to you that she didn't cry because she was afraid? Maybe she thought you were the most beautiful, magical creature she'd ever seen in her whole life, and cried because she was being carried away from you. I can understand that. I felt the same way the first time you took me back to my apartment, and disappeared. Only I was too grown-up to cry ... at least on the outside."
Vincent's own eyes became suspiciously bright at her words. "My dearest, dearest Catherine--when I'm with you, especially when we make love--I feel beautiful."
"You are beautiful! I'm not the only one who thinks so. Ask Lena. Ask Jenny ... or Mary, or Jamie, or--" Catherine took his hand back, laying it against her cheek. "Remember, even if our child took after you, he'd be a separate person. He wouldn't grow up wondering who his parents were and how they felt about him. He wouldn't be all alone, the only one of his kind. He'd be forewarned about what he might have to face, because his father had been there before him." She smiled a little, holding his eyes with her own. "Your life didn't turn out so badly, did it? Our child's could be even better, spared some of the pain-- or at least guided through it."
Vincent was quiet for a moment, thoughtful. "There is one more thing. Most in your world don't know of our marriage, nor would they recognize its legitimacy if they knew."
"Do you think I care? Nor would a lot of others. My life's too quiet now to be of interest to the tabloids or even the office gossip mill. I'd have to be a movie star, or maybe the Trumps, to be news now. Manhattan is full of single mothers ... and nothing like that would matter to anyone who's really important to me." Catherine paused for a moment. "I have so much to be thankful for, I should be content. But you've always told me to follow my heart--and it's pulling me in only one direction. I can't believe it would mislead me."
Vincent bowed his head; he seemed to have nothing more to say. A charged silence settled; even the city around them seemed to be holding its breath. Slowly, he looked up again into the infinite promise of Catherine's eyes. "Then we must follow where it leads, because I can no longer deny my own heart leads me the same way."
Catherine neither moved nor spoke for a moment, afraid to believe what she had heard. Then, with a cry of joy, she threw her arms around Vincent's neck, burying her tearful face in his hair.
The city began to breathe again. Unnoticed at the foot of the bed, two green eyes looked first at one, then the other. Settling paws under him and tail around, a small golden kitten tucked himself into a sleek package. With one last look at the two before him, he closed his eyes in contentment and began to purr.
BATB Home
HOME