DAMAGE
Janet Rivenbark
“I really appreciate this, Cath. I don’t know how my upstairs neighbor could manage to leave the water running in their bathtub and go off to work and forget it. The Super said it was a miracle that the ceiling of the apartment didn’t cave in, instead of just the bathroom.” Edie stood next to Catherine at the kitchen counter as they put away the remains of their Chinese take-out dinner. “It wasn’t even noticed until the water started seeping though the ceiling of the apartment below mine.”
“That’s what friends do,” Catherine assured her. “You’re lucky that there was a vacant apartment in your building and that the Super was willing to let you move into it.”
Edie leaned on the counter and folded her arms. “He said that it just worked out. The new owners of the building are renovating apartments top to bottom, one floor at a time and are shifting tenants around as needed. My floor isn’t slated to be done for quite a while since it’s only on the third floor, but there was a vacant one bedroom on the floor that was just finished.” She laughed. “It’s almost as big as your place, and has a few more square feet than my current place.”
“How’s the rent on it?” Catherine asked.
“A little higher. All the newly renovated apartments are slightly higher rents, but we had notice of that months ago when the building was sold. We were told our rent would stay the same until our apartments were renovated. We’d have to shift to a vacant one until our places were done if we wanted to remain in the building. I’m just lucky that the vacant one is one of the newly renovated ones. The Super said that if I want to I can stay in it. They aren’t going to bother repairing the damage to the two apartments; they’ll just wait until they’re ready to start work on those floors.”
“Have you lined up any help to move your stuff besides you and me?” Catherine asked as she finished putting leftovers in the refrigerator.
“My cousin’s husband and his brother are coming over. They’ll handle all the heavy stuff and should be all we need. They run a gym and have muscles on their muscles.”
Catherine laughed. “Then it sounds like we’re in pretty good shape. It’s a good thing that this happened on a Friday. You can get all your stuff moved tomorrow and then have Sunday to get settled.”
“And tonight I get to spend the night in the lap of luxury.” She waved her hand at the apartment as they walked into the living room.
“I hardly call Chinese take-out, and a fold out sofa bed the lap of luxury,” Catherine said with a shake of her head.
“Ah, but you have air conditioning. It’s July and the temperature was in the high 80’s today. My place is on the west side of the building and it gets darned hot in the afternoon. I get home from work and open all the windows and turn on a fan; it gets almost bearable by the time I go to bed, but about the time it finally starts to really cool off, the sun comes back up and I have to leave, when I get back in the afternoon, it’s a sauna again. And did I mention that the new apartment I’m moving to is on the other side of the building? It will get some sun in the winter, but not so much in the summer. And it’s on one of the upper floors of the building, and the building is taller than those around it, so I might actually get a breeze when I open a window.”
“No air conditioning?” Catherine had a hard time imagining living in a building with no air conditioning.
“When the renovation of the building is done, the new owners are also going to update the environmental control,” Edie related gleefully. “They are installing electric baseboard heaters in every apartment and there will be air conditioning. It’s not in yet, the heat is but not the AC. That will take a while longer.”
“You must be living right to get that lucky,” agreed Catherine.
“Speaking of living right… there is another luxurious thing I’d like to sample. My sweet tooth is jonesing for a fix. You got any ice cream in the freezer?” Edie asked.
“Are you kidding?” asked Catherine with a grin. “There is always ice cream in my freezer. You never know when it might be required… like now. Help yourself.”
“You want some?” asked Edie as she headed back to the kitchen.
“No thanks. I’m too full of moo shu pork to think of eating anything else tonight.”
Edie came back into the livingroom a few minutes later with a bowl of ice cream.
“You are in serious trouble, Girlfriend,” she announced as she sat down on the couch next to Catherine.
“What do you mean?” asked Catherine looking up from the brief she was editing.
“You have four different kinds of ice cream in your freezer and none of them are plain vanilla or chocolate.”
“And?” prompted Catherine.
“Don’t you know what that means?”
“That I like a broader selection in ice cream?” she suggested with a smile.
“No, it means that you are either between boyfriends, or that you aren’t getting what you need from the man in your life. I happen to know that you have a fella, so that means he’s either not very good in the sack or that you haven’t gotten to that point in your relationship yet. But you told me that you’ve been seeing the same guy for two years, so what gives?”
“Edie!” Catherine protested. “It might also mean that the man in my life likes ice cream.”
“Not the frou-frou flavors you’ve got. Men like vanilla, chocolate, maybe a little rocky road or butter pecan, but you’ve got chocolate chip, chocolate chip mint, coffee chocolate chip and French vanilla with strawberries.”
Catherine looked at Edie and shook her head. “I’d rather not talk about it,” she said.
“Now that is an answer dripping in frustration if I ever heard one. Fess up Girlfriend.”
“We just haven’t gotten to that point, that’s all,” Catherine said as she started to pack the files back into her briefcase.
“After over two years?” asked Edie, unbelieving.
“We didn’t see each other for the first six months or so of that time. I met him then didn’t see him again until the following fall,” Catherine protested.
“But you’ve been seeing him since then. I can tell from the way you look when you talk about him that you are in love. Why’s he dragging his feet? Is he afraid of commitment? If he is then you need to run, very fast, in the opposite direction… Or is it you who’s dragging your feet?”
“No, it’s not either of those. It’s just that, well… he’s never been with a woman and it scares him.”
Edie looked at her like she’d just sprouted a second head. “You’re kidding, aren’t you? Are you robbing the cradle or something? How old is this guy?”
“He’s a couple years older than me, but he’s just not had the opportunity and he’s never been in love before… It’s hard to explain, Edie. It’s just very complicated.”
“I’ll say, anything that makes you resort to three different kinds of chocolate chip ice cream must be very complicated.”
They were up early the next morning and were able to get all Edie’s stuff moved by late afternoon. They even had her bedroom set up by the time Catherine left. Catherine headed home to a hot shower and was pleasantly surprised to find Vincent on her balcony when she exited the bathroom in her robe.
“Just let me get something on and I’ll be right out,” she called out as she went to the dresser to find something. She briefly contemplated the sexy silk gowns she had in one drawer, but she’d more or less given up on them a couple months ago. She pulled out another drawer and selected a pair of dark green knit sleep pants and a matching tank top. She took them to the bathroom to put them on and was slipping on a white cotton robe as she joined Vincent at the wall on the balcony.
“You were working hard today,” he commented. “I can feel your sore muscles.”
“I helped a friend move,” she told him. “But I took a hot shower and that should help. Did you have a good day?”
“I took some of the children on a camping trip last night. We left at noon yesterday, walked to our camping spot where we spent the night and then came back this afternoon. I thought I could handle five boys on my own, but next time I’m going to take another adult. I swear it was like herding pigeons! I’d just get them all back in line and accounted for and one of them would see or hear something and would be off.”
“I see teachers with their students on field trips in our building or in the courts building every now and then. They always look a little frazzled,” she agreed with a chuckle. “But you look like you survived all right.”
“It took a soak on a bathing pool and one of William’s beers,” he told her with a wry smile.
“A beer? You actually had a beer? I thought you seldom drank,” she said grinning up at him.
“Boys that age are enough to drive a saint to drink. Now I know where Father got all his gray hair,” the told her. “Besides, William’s homebrew has about half the alcohol content of any commercial beer.”
She patted his hand. “Pour Vincent. I’ve never known you to have trouble with any of the children Below.”
“Maybe it was the combination this time. It was all boys for one thing; pre-pubescent boys and the testosterone was running high; they were constantly trying to outdo each other. I wouldn’t have been surprised if they’d started urinating on rocks along our path.” Vincent realized what he’d just said and blushed. “I’m sorry, that just fell out. I didn’t really mean to say that.”
“That’s OK,” she said with a laugh. “It just conjured a rather amusing visual. Who were they?”
“Kipper, Geoffrey, Eric, Joseph and Riley. Eric is the youngest and Riley is the oldest. He and Kipper were the ring leaders. I’m afraid I was a little short with them a few times.”
Catherine looked up at him, surprised at his admission, but it was just the opening she needed.
“I’m been a little short tempered at times lately myself,” she told him. “I know what you mean.”
“You?” he commented. “I’ve never known you to be short tempered.”
“You haven’t been around me enough,” she told him. “I’ve jumped down Joe’s throat several times in the last few weeks.”
“From what you tell me, he occasionally merits it.” He looked down at her and smiled as he put his arm around her shoulders. “I guess working ten and twelve hour days can make even the sweetest person a little testy at times.”
“Long hours and sexual frustration,” she corrected pointedly, looking up at him.
He dropped his arm and backed away from her. “Catherine,” he said in a warning tone.
“No, don’t Catherine me. You agreed that we’d talk and not be embarrassed to say what we feel. You need to know why I feel the way I feel and I need to know where you stand on it.”
“But we’ve been over and over the same ground countless times,” he protested. “You know my fears and I know your hopes. We need to overcome our fears before we take the next step.”
“Don’t put it on me,” she told him. “My only fear is that I’ll be too old by the time you finally overcome your fears.” She stopped and drew in a deep breath.
He could feel her calming herself… she’d gotten too good at that over the last couple years.
“I’m sorry. I swore that I wouldn’t pressure you, or guilt trip you into it. Please forgive me?” She turned and wrapped her arms around him as far as they would go and leaned her forehead against his upper arm. He remained facing the park, staring out over it.
“I’m sorry too, Catherine,” he finally said. “I know I keep putting you off; your kisses are so sweet and your body feels so good, so right in my arms, but when I picture myself loving you, it always ends badly. My fears are just too great!” He turned to her and pulled her into his arms, but his next words contradicted his action. “Perhaps we should back off for a while, discontinue the physical contact until I’m more sure.”
“No!” She pulled back and looked up at him with fear in her eyes. “We’ve come too far. You accept my kisses, you even kiss me back, and I know that the Bond has assured you that I enjoy, even crave your kisses. Please don’t deprive me of that.”
He leaned down, touched his forehead to hers and kissed the end of her nose. “Then let me tarry in this spot for a while longer,” he suggested.
She smiled and closed her eyes. “March on. Do not tarry. To go forward is to move toward perfection. March on, and fear not the thorns, or the sharp stones on life's path.[i]”
“You use my words against me,” he said as he pulled her closer and kissed her.
Later, as he was turning to leave, he remembered something and turned back.
“Are you still coming Below tomorrow afternoon to help with the play rehearsal?” He asked.
“Yes, I wouldn’t miss it. Did they finally decide on what they want to do?”
“Yes, they’ve picked two one-act plays. Both are comedies, but one has a little bit of romance too.”
“No Shakespeare?” she asked with a grin. “What will Father think?”
“Father doesn’t know yet and hopefully will not find out until he’s sitting in the audience on the night of the play,” he said with a chuckle. “We had a short read through of both of them a few days ago and they have a pretty good understanding of them and Samantha and Geoffrey did wonderfully with the comedy. Their sense of timing was perfect.”
“I’ll be down after lunch tomorrow,” she promised and watched him make his way to the roof and disappear over the wall at the top.
Catherine spent Sunday morning doing laundry and straightening her apartment. She ate a sandwich when she finished and headed Below around 1 PM. She was a little disappointed to find Mouse on the other side of the wall instead of Vincent.
“Hello Mouse,” she greeted him with a smile. “I haven’t seen you in a while. How have you been?”
“Good,” he said enthusiastically. “Better than good. Working on a new project.”
“What kind of project?” she asked as they walked along.
“New way to change the ways,” he told her. “Light weight, molded walls. Fiberglass. Look just like rock. Have a locking mechanism and move on a center rod. Got one up at the entrance of my chamber. Even Vincent had trouble finding me.”
She was always amazed at the complex mechanical gadgets Mouse could build, and the understanding he had of engineering almost anything, but he still never seemed to pick up the simpler concepts, like the difference between finding and taking and stealing, and arriving on time. She wondered how he’d managed to be on time to meet her today.
“Maybe you should build another prototype and install it in the entrance to Vincent’s chamber,” she suggested.
The idea seemed to resonate with Mouse and he was quiet the rest of the way back to the hub.
“They’re in Vincent’s chamber,” he told her when they reached the main intersection of tunnels. “You can find the way. Mouse has work to do.”
“Thank you, Mouse,” she called after him as he hurried away.
She heard a faint “Welcome,” drift back as she turned up the tunnel that led to Vincent’s chamber.
Vincent looked up and smiled as she entered the chamber. He didn’t have a chance to speak before Kipper rushed over to her.
“Can you do a favor for us, Catherine?” he asked.
“Sure, what do you need?” She smiled over his head at Vincent.
“We only have one copy of each of the plays we are doing and it’s kind of hard to study lines. Can you make copies so each of us can have our own?” he asked.
“I’ll see what I can do. There’s a copy machine at the library.”
The rehearsal went well. There was a lot of giggling at the romantic lines when Kipper delivered them. Vincent went over them with him several times; demonstrating how to put more feeling into them. As Vincent delivered the lines he looked at Catherine, and she could feel his eyes on her. When she looked up at him, she had to mentally throw a wet blanket over the feelings that he stirred in her.
They were finishing up when dinner was announced on the pipes.
“Will you join us, Catherine?” Vincent invited.
“Thank you,” she smiled up at him. She loved Sunday dinner Below, it was always like a huge family meal. Every other day of the week, meals were served over a span of time, and everyone ate when it was convenient, but on Sunday, dinner was served at 5PM for everyone who could be there and they ate as a family. The tables were even moved so that they were all at one large table.
After dinner they were on their way back to Vincent’s chamber to retrieve the books with the plays when Father stopped her and asked if she could drop by his study on her way out.
“Go on, Catherine,” Vincent told her. “I’ll got get our… things, and meet you back here.”
Catherine followed Father into his study and took the chair he offered.
“What is it Father?” she asked after he was seated.
“I have a very unusual favor to ask of you, my dear,” he began. “It’s a little embarrassing to talk about, but I am a doctor and I’m sure you will forgive me if I’m frank with you.”
Oh my God, here it comes, she thought to herself. He’s noticed what’s going on between Vincent and me and now I’m going to get a lecture on restraint. She braced herself but was surprised by Father’s next words.
“When Laura went Above, she was legally an adult, but our young women are rather sheltered down here, and she rather quickly got involved with a young man. She was lucky and he loves her deeply, but now that a few of our other young women are heading Above to attend college, I worry about them.”
“How can I help, Father?” she asked.
“Well, Brooke is going to go to nursing school Above. For the first two years, she will be living Below and attending classes at a community college, I was wondering if you could make yourself available to her if she should need something; someone to talk to. We all love her and will always be there for her, but when it comes to dealing with life and love Above, most of us are at a loss.”
“I thought she was seeing Stephen here Below,” Catherine said.
“She was, but they disagreed when she decided to go to nursing school. He wants her to stay Below with him, but she wants to stretch her wings.”
“I can’t blame her for that, and I’ll make sure that she has all the numbers where I can be reached when she starts classes. If she’d like, I can take her shopping for clothes. I’d be happy to see that she has everything she needs.”
“That’s very generous of you, and I will pass that on to her, but Mary and some of the others have been working on a wardrobe suitable for Above.”
“And I’ll be glad to be there to listen if she needs an ear, but I don’t think that I’m suitable to give any relationship advice,” Catherine said cynically. “I don’t seem to be doing very well for myself.”
Father looked at her questioningly. “Is there anything I can do?” he asked.
She wanted to tell him that he’d done quite enough already, but in spite of her thoughts on that subject, she loved and respected him and knew that he loved Vincent.
“No, not really, Father,” she told him with a sad smile. “It’s just that Vincent and I seemed to have reached an impasse in our relationship.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” he said sincerely. “I realize that part of that is my fault; the things I’ve said to him over the years, the way I’ve tried to protect him. But over the last few months, I’ve tried to correct some of that, but I’m afraid I’m not making much headway either.”
She looked at Father with tears in her eyes. “I never thought we’d be fighting for the same side,” she admitted, “but thank you. It probably means more to Vincent coming from you than from anyone.”
They both heard Vincent at the same time and Catherine stood and walked around the table to hug Father and kiss him on the cheek. “Thank you,” she whispered before she went to join Vincent.
They’d left the main tunnel before Vincent spoke.
“What did Father want to talk about?” he asked.
“He as asking if I’d be available to give some guidance to Brooke and any of the other girls from Below who are going Above to school. I told him I’d be happy to,” she told him.
“You said something about something meaning more to me coming from him than from anyone else, that doesn’t sound like you were talking about Brooke,” he said suspiciously.
Catherine was so surprised at his tone and insinuation that she stopped dead in her tracks.
“It was just an offshoot of what he asked. I told him that I didn’t think I would be the best person in the world to give Brooke or any of the other girls relationship advice since I didn’t seem to be doing a very good job on my own,” she spat at him. “He told me that he’d changed his opinion about all the warnings that he’s given you over the years.”
“He may or may not have changed his opinions, but I still haven’t changed mine!”
No sooner had the word left his mouth when there was a low rumble that seemed to come from all around them. Small stones and dust started to fall from the ceiling and Catherine felt momentarily dizzy; she reached out to the wall to steady herself, but before she touched it, she was pushed against that wall and Vincent covered her protectively with his body.
“Was that an earthquake?” she questioned when the rumbling stopped.
“I think it was. I don’t know of any construction projects going on that require blasting,” Vincent said, looking down at her. “Are you all right?”
She nodded. “Just startled. I’ve been in California during earthquakes before, but I never thought I’d feel one here.” She reached up and brushed dust out of his hair and off his shoulder. She stroked his cheek. “I’m sorry I snapped at you.
He bowed his head, so his face was closer to hers. “I guess what you said about being irritable is true. I’m sorry too.”
He was gazing into her eyes and it seemed the most natural thing in the world to kiss her. He’d never kissed her quite like this before. He’d always made sure that whenever he held her or kissed her that she had the opportunity to move away from him if she wanted. He didn’t want her to ever feel as if she couldn’t, but he’d covered her with his cloak and had backed her up against the tunnel wall during the tremor. The Bond told him that the rough wall was digging into her back, but there was no actual pain, so he continued.
It seemed just as natural for him to press himself against her as he kissed her and he didn’t realize what he was doing until he felt Catherine’s passion start to rise.
He abruptly stepped away from her. She staggered a bit but kept her feet. She thought he might take off so she grabbed his hand and pulled him back the way they’d just come.
“We need to talk,” she told him firmly, and was surprised when he followed her without protest.
Neither of them spoke until they reached his chamber and were seated. Vincent was on the side of his bed and she took off her jacket and pulled his chair over so she could sit in front of him, almost knee to knee. She decided that being between him and the door might be wise for this particular conversation.
“Vincent, what happened back there?” she asked quietly.
“There was a tremor, I tried to shield you,” he said being purposely obtuse.
“That’s not what I meant and you know it. You were aroused, we both were, but you backed off again. You want me just as badly as I want you. Admit it!”
“There is nothing to admit, Catherine,” he protested. “I never said that I didn’t desire you, I just said that I didn’t intend to do anything about it at this time.”
“But why?” she asked, leaning toward him a bit. “It’s tearing us both up. I don’t know about you, but this gnawing need is becoming chronic. It’s always with me; it never goes away.”
“Catherine, please don’t do this. I agree that it’s painful, but if you keep worrying the scab it will be even more painful.”
“I don’t think it will ever just heal and go away. Not unless we do something. We either have to part permanently or follow through.”
The look of pain in his eyes at her suggestion that they part went straight to her heart. “Scratch that first suggestion,” she said. “I don’t think being apart would help. I would still love you and want you.”
“What will we do?” he asked, the despair evident in his voice. “I love you, but I can’t love you for fear of hurting you, but abstinence is killing us both.”
She was surprised by his admission and decided to push the envelope a little to see where it got her.
“Vincent, there are… um… positions that would give me more control and put you into more of the submissive role,” she suggested. “That might be an option until you are sure that what you fear might happen isn’t going to happen.”
“You aren’t proposing tying me up, are you?” he asked suspiciously.
“Of course not; I’m not a dominatrix and I’m not into bondage. I was thinking more along the lines of you on the bottom and me on top.”
She was surprised to see a glimmer of hope in his eyes as he looked up at her.
“Do you think something like that would work?”
“There are no guarantees, but it might… Vincent, I love you and I’m willing to take the chance for the opportunity to show you all the things we are missing. I honestly think that if you had an outlet for those particular tensions, you might actually find it easier to control what you think of as your baser self. Those urges exist in everyone, and we all get a little cranky when they aren’t satisfied.”
“Catherine, I wouldn’t call eviscerating someone or throwing someone across a room as merely cranky,” he said ironically.
“That’s different when that happens, there is a good reason; you’re acting in self-defense or in defense of me or your family. You don’t go around striking out indiscriminately for no good reason. You might be a bit grumpy, but that’s entirely human… you’d never hurt someone without a good reason,” she pointed out.
“What about Devin, and Lisa?” he asked, falling back on old arguments.
“Vincent, we’ve been over and over this. You were a child when you struck out at Devin, and even he admits he was taunting you. And Lisa? Well, that was as much her fault as it was yours. She didn’t realize what she was doing. Both incidents were years ago. You’ve grown up since then, and you are much more in control.”
Vincent sighed. “Catherine, it’s not that I don’t love you, or that I don’t want to show you how much I love you… that way… but it’s that I’m afraid for you. Mostly because I’m afraid I might hurt you in some way, but also because I don’t want to disappoint you. I’ve never… bedded a woman; I don’t know what to do. You’ve been with other men. I would never measure up to them.” He didn’t look at her, but studied his hands in his lap.
“First of all, you make me sound like a courtesan! I don’t think anyone actually calls it bedding a woman any more, and I’m not all that experienced. I’ve only been with two men. I know what pleases me, but I obviously don’t know how to please a man, because both Steven and Tom were always trying to get me to do more; things that were distasteful to me or I didn’t really know much about. And neither of them were very concerned about what pleased me, because I was very seldom satisfied when I had sex with them. I think the key is that I love you… I didn’t really love them. I thought I might love Steven, but when he asked me to marry him, I very quickly made the decision that he wasn’t the one for me. And I’m sure that all I was to Tom was a good catch; more money to invest in his developments. I was trying to have a real relationship with him, but I see now that it was only because Daddy liked him and thought he was good husband material. I’m actually grateful for what happened to me. It brought me to you, woke me up and what happened afterward showed me where I stood with Tom. If it hadn’t happened I would probably be very unhappily married to him. I cringe at the thought.”
“As do I,” he said. She could almost see his capitulation. He opened his arms to her. “Come show me how to love you, Catherine.”
Catherine was momentarily stunned, but within seconds, she was in his arms raining kisses over his face.
“We don’t have to… how do I say this delicately?” she said drawing back for a moment and looking at him, “… go all the way this time. I just want to know that we will continue to move forward.”
He cupped her face and pulled her back to kiss her. He was determined that it would be done tonight, then they would know, one way or the other and could move on accordingly.
Catherine’s mind shifted into high gear as she returned his kisses. She knew that she would have to be very careful. If there was even the slightest bit of pain or even discomfort and she was almost sure that there would be some discomfort, it had been a long time, she would have to find a way to keep it from Vincent.
She pulled back from him. “Would you be more comfortable if there was less light in here?” she asked. At his tentative nod, she got up and blew out several candles.
On her way back to him she toed off her shoes and pulled off the sweater she was wearing. She still had on a tank top, bra, panties and her jeans. When she got back to the bed she was pleasantly surprised to see that Vincent had removed his padded vest and was pulling off his boots.
Not much was said, but they slowly helped each other remove their clothing until they were both naked. She wished for more light, but there would be plenty of time for that later, she promised herself.
Catherine had been aroused from the instant he’d opened his arms to her, but she wanted to be very, very careful, so she drew out the foreplay. Vincent’s breathing was hard and his eyes were dilated almost to the point where she could hardly see any blue, by the time she finally pushed him over onto his back and moved above him. Even then she continued to caress and kiss him and encouraged him to do the same. At one point he caught her under the arms and pulled her up his body so he could reach her breast with his mouth. She almost cried at how carefully and tenderly he took her into his mouth and sucked. She wrapped her arms around his head and held him there, rocking him slightly.
When he looked up at her she knew he was finally ready, and she hoped she was.
She positioned him and tried to take him inside, but there was resistance. His eyes had been half closed as he lost himself in the sensations, but they popped open and he looked at her in concern.
“It’s OK,” she assured him. “It’s just been a long time.” She took a deep breath and willed all her muscles to relax. She moved downward again and this time, he slipped inside. Just the head but his gasp and groan got through her concentration. She kept the muscles relaxed and continued moving until she held him entirely deep inside her. She let out a sobbing breath and looked down at him.
Vincent’s eyes were tightly closed but the look of ecstasy on his face was all she needed; he was all right and he was accepting this. His hands were clutching the sheets next to his hips on both sides and his body was tighter than a bow string, but he was accepting it.
She began to move. She was a little clumsy at first, she’d never made love in this position before, but she soon settled into a rhythm.
Normally she would want to make it last as long as possible, but this one time she thought that it would probably be a good idea to bring Vincent to climax as quickly as possible; even if she didn’t climax. She worked diligently to that end. Vincent’s hands came up to her hips to help her move when he sensed her legs starting to tire.
She watched him, and knew seconds before it happened. He threw his head back and pulled her hips tightly against his. When she felt him erupt, hot and hard inside her she also, unexpectedly climaxed. She gripped his thighs tightly with her hands holding on as he bucked under her. She felt a momentary piercing pain in her lower back, but quickly buried it as she collapsed on his chest gasping.
All this had been accomplished in almost complete silence.
Vincent wrapped his arms around her and held her tightly, raining kisses on the face she turned to him. Neither was capable of coherent speech and were content to hold each other.
Minutes later, Catherine felt Vincent’s body tense up.
“What is it, my love?” she asked.
“I smell blood, Catherine,” he said quietly, too quietly.
“A scratch, maybe,” she suggested. “I know I might have dug my nails into you when I was holding on.”
He abruptly sat up and she slid down, pushing his still slightly hard erection deeper inside her. She groaned at the sudden flare of arousal that surged through her.
He looked over her shoulder and down her back.
“You’re bleeding, Catherine,” he said in horror.
“It can’t be more than a scratch,” she protested. “I hardly feel more than a slight sting.”
He lifted her away from him, turned her so that her back was to him and set her down on the bed. He was horrified to see eight perfect puncture wounds on her lower back, just below her waist; four on each side. He looked at his hands and there was blood on them, Catherine’s blood.
He leaped out of bed, grabbed his jeans and hauled them on. “You’re hurt. I’m going to get Father,” he said heading for the entrance to his chamber.
“I’m sure that won’t be necessary,” she called after him. “A little iodine and a few Band-Aids and I’ll be as good as new.”
But he was gone before she finished.
“Damn, damn, DAMN!” she cursed under her breath. She tried to see what the damage was, but she couldn’t. She reached back and, sure enough, there was blood, and from the looks of the sheets, plenty of it. She hadn’t lied, other than the initial pain she felt very little pain at all. Must be all those endorphins from the climax, she mused. Then, not wanting Father to catch her at a disadvantage, she pulled on her panties and bra. She had moved to sit on a bench in the middle of the room when Vincent returned with Father.
Vincent hovered while Father assessed the damage. Father finally had to look up at Vincent and tell him to move out of the light.
“Light some more candles,” he suggested and as Vincent did as he asked, he added, “then put on some shoes and a shirt and go to the kitchen and get us a pot of tea, and maybe a glass of milk or juice for Catherine. There has been some blood loss and she needs to replace some fluids.”
Vincent left and Father went back to work.
“Is it that bad, Father?” she asked.
“No, not really, but he wasn’t making it any better by hovering like that. The wounds made by his index and middle finger nails are pretty deep but the others are just superficial. I’m going to clean them and put some antibiotic ointment and bandages on them. I suggest that you see Peter first thing tomorrow for some antibiotics. Keep it dry until then too.” Father seemed much more matter of fact than she expected him to be. He patted her on the shoulder and told her he was done.
She reached for her jeans and started to dress.
“Is Vincent OK?” she asked.
“He’ll survive,” Father assured her, “but this has probably set your relationship back quite a bit.”
“I imagine that we are back to square one,” she agreed as she pulled her sweater on over her head and reached for her shoes.
“Catherine, don’t blame yourself,” he told her.
“Who else can I blame?” she turned to him and demanded. “I rushed him. He wasn’t ready and I knew it. It’s not his fault this happened, but what is so bad about it is that it’s exactly what he thought would happen: he’d lose himself in passion and I’d be hurt.”
“Not exactly what he expected,” Father argued. “I think that he was thinking more along the lines of major injury; a broken bone or major lacerations or possibly even bites.”
“But don’t you see, degree doesn’t matter. All he sees it that he drew blood and I was hurt.”
She sat down next to Father on the bench, wincing when the torn skin pulled. The endorphins were wearing off. Father reached into his bag pulled out a bottle that he handed her.
“There are a couple pain pills in that. They should help you sleep tonight.”
Vincent walked into the chamber carrying a tray. He put it down on the table and went to his armoire where he pulled out a backpack and started stuffing things into it.
“What are you doing Vincent?” Father asked in a harsh voice.
“I need to get away Father.” He ignored Catherine.
“Now is not the time to run away,” Father pointed out. “You need to stay and work this out with Catherine.”
Vincent took the time to stop and look back over his shoulder at Catherine. Their eyes met and held a moment then he looked away and continued packing. “Not yet!” was all he said.
“I’ll stop in the kitchen for some supplies,” he said as he pulled on his cloak and picked up his pack. “If I’m not back in three days, please have Mouse bring more supplies to the drop off point.” He left the chamber without a backward glance.
Catherine collapsed in tears, with only Father to comfort her. When she finally quieted, he made her drink the juice that Vincent had brought.
“You can stay here for the night,” he suggested.
“No, I’ll change the sheets on his bed then I’ll head home.”
Father reluctantly agreed and left her alone.
She stripped the bed tossing the sheets into the laundry basket near the door. She remade the bed then went around the chamber putting out the candles that Vincent had lit. After a bit of thought, she pulled the sheets out of the basket and folded them carefully to hide the blood. She didn’t think Vincent would want everyone on the laundry detail wondering where all the blood had come from. She ‘d take them home with her and launder them there.
She was headed past Father’s study on her way home when Jamie fell into step beside her.
“Father asked me to make sure you got to your threshold OK,” she said. “Vincent took off out of here a little while ago like his hair was on fire. You two have an argument?”
“Jamie, you’ve been spending too much time with Mouse lately,” Catherine told her. “His sense of appropriate questions has rubbed off on you.”
“Sorry, I know that was nosy, but Vincent is my friend and so are you. I just wanted to know if there is anything I can do to help.”
Catherine stopped and hugged the girl. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be so abrupt; it’s been a long day, and I’m sorry to say that there isn’t anything you can do. There’s nothing anyone can do, Vincent and I have to work this out ourselves.”
Two days passed and no one heard from Vincent. Catherine was worried but managed to hide it from everyone at work. She’d been a little grumpy for months now, and she guessed that they probably considered preoccupied to be an improvement.
In a small cavern, just above the banks of the underground river that he and Devin had found when they were boys, Vincent sat on a chair at a rough table. His journal was open in front of him, but as on the previous two nights, he hadn’t been able to write anything.
He’d gone over and over the events of Sunday night and every time he did all he could remember was the blood. Father had said that the wounds were small, but they had bled so much.
How could he? He wondered if it had just been a self-fulfilling prophesy? He’d been so convinced that something like that would happen, actually he’d expected something much worse, that he’d unconsciously made it happen? He’d turned that thought around in his mind over and over too. He didn’t think that was what had happened.
He tried to look at it from a different perspective. Everything had actually started very well. He’d expected awkwardness, but with Catherine taking over as she had, that had been avoided. Her kisses had been bliss, and when her body had finally taken his inside, he’d been in paradise. Even in his wildest dreams it had never been that good. And Catherine had been feeling the same thing. He could tell that she was concentrating on his pleasure and she’d been taken by surprise by her own climax. And that was when it had happened.
He’d felt her tiring and he had reached up and grasped her waist to help her move. When his orgasm had hit him, he’d pulled her down holding her against him, but her climax had surprised him as much as he had her. The intensity of the two combined in the Bond had made him forget… forget to be careful, and he’d held on too tightly, just as he had that other time. Catherine would bear the physical scars because of it. He just hoped that her psychological scars weren’t as deep or long lasting.
Father sat on the settee and had the foot of his bad leg propped up on a foot stool. He held a mug of tea in one hand and his reading glasses in the other. He was alternately chewing on the earpiece and tapping it on his chin.
“You’re going to ruin your glasses, Jacob,” said Mary as she entered the chamber.
Father realized what he was doing and dropped the glasses on the end table. “You’re right, as usual, Mary,” he said with a sad smile.
“What’s been bothering you?” she asked with concern. “Did you and Vincent quarrel? Is that why he left?”
“No, we didn’t quarrel,” Father assured her. “Something happened between him and Catherine that upset him.”
“Oh my. I’m sorry to hear that. Will the road ever smooth out for them, do you think?” She took a seat next to Father. She pulled out a crocheted shawl she was working on and picked up where she’d left off without thought.
“I often wonder the same thing,” Father said. “I feel responsible for a good bit of their problems, you know.”
“Why is that?”
“I spent so much of Vincent’s life warning him to be careful, trying to protect him. I deprived him of much of what he should have experienced. Things like interaction with girls his own age. After that incident with Lisa, I was just so afraid that it would happen again and that it would be worse because he was older and stronger. It affected him much more than it did Lisa.”
“You did make a bit of a federal case out of it, Jacob,” she pointed out, keeping her eyes on her crocheting.
Father was surprised at her boldness and looked at her pointedly. “How’s that?” he asked.
“At first you railed at the boy. Pointing out that you’d always told him to be careful. And then you made a point of rushing Lisa off to live Above with her ballet teacher, even though she wasn’t scheduled to leave until the end of the month. When she wanted to see him, to make sure he realized that she wasn’t that badly hurt and that she didn’t blame him, you wouldn’t allow it. That could have been just what he needed. If he’d been able to see Lisa, and talk to her and know that she was all right, he might not have worked himself up so badly and become ill.”
Father digested her words for a few moments then had to admit that she was right. “You know him very well, Mary,” he said. “I just hope that we aren’t headed for another illness like that time. Especially with him off God knows where.”
“What happened between him and Catherine, was is like what happened that other time?” she asked.
“Worse,” he said with a weary shake of his head. “They were… well, they were intimate…”
“It’s called making love, Jacob,” Mary prompted.
“Yes, well, they were making love and Catherine got scratched. It wasn’t really that bad, but Vincent panicked and came for me. We both tried to talk to him, to reassure him, but he was having none of it. He left right then; he didn’t even take Catherine back to her threshold.”
“Maybe we should send someone after him to talk to him,” Mary suggested.
“I don’t know who we could send that he’d actually listen to. I know I couldn’t make the trip; Pascal maybe?”
Just then Devin entered the chamber with a backpack on his shoulder.
“Are you planning to send Pascal down to the river to talk to Vincent?” he asked, dropping the pack. “I heard on my way in that Vincent had run off, but no one seems to know why.”
After Father greeted his older son, he told the story again, as Devin paced the chamber worriedly. When Father was done, Devin checked his watch. “Chandler won’t be home from work for a few more hours, I’ve got to go up and talk to her about Charles anyway, I’ll talk to her about this too.”
“Is that wise?” Father wondered out loud.
“It’s better than leaving them both to stew in their own juices. I’ll talk to her tonight and I think I’ll just make a trip down to the river to see him tomorrow.”
“Don’t you need to be with Charles?” asked Father.
“He’s in good hands,” Devin assured him. “I went with him and Peter and got him settled in the hospital. He’s already charming all the nurses. They will be doing tests and taking x-rays for the next couple days. He’s not scheduled for surgery until Friday. Peter said he’d be down later to talk to you. He’d like Charles to recuperate down here after he’s released from the hospital. He says he’ll feel better if he had a doctor to monitor his recovery.
After dinner, when Devin figured that Catherine would be home he headed up to her place. Peter arrived Below right after he left.
He discussed Charles’ case with Father who agreed to allow Charles to recuperate Below. Then Peter broached the subject of Vincent.
“Cathy told me what happened when she came to me for the antibiotics,” Peter said.
“I feel responsible for so much of that,” said Father.
“You should probably feel responsible for all of it,” said Peter a little shortly.
“First Mary, now you. I wish someone would have spoken up sooner. We might have been able to spare Vincent all this heart ache.”
“Would you have listened?” asked Peter.
Father had to chuckle at that. “Probably not. I did tend to think that I was the only one who knew what was best for Vincent.”
“Did? Seems that you still think that way,” said Peter.
“Not really,” said Father. “I’ve had it pointed out to me rather rudely by several people of late.”
“Now we just need to figure out how to repair the damage,” said Peter. “You know, when he was sick that last time, up at Catherine’s I took some blood. It was to check to see if I could figure out what might be causing his illness, a virus or an infection of some kind. It dawned on me that we’d never really run any blood tests on him before. I didn’t see anything that unusual. I think you’re biggest problem over the years has been that you’ve been stressing his differences. Catherine sees those differences, but she focuses on what makes him a man; his compassion, gentleness, intellect, love… heart and soul.”
“While I was always worried that he’d be ostracized because of his differences, I seemed to be the only one who noticed them,” Father agreed.
Catherine had just returned to her sofa with a cup of tea and a case file when there was a knock on the door.
No one had called up from the lobby, so it must be one of her neighbors. She was surprised to see Devin grinning at her when she checked the peephole.
“What are you doing here?” she asked when she opened the door.
“Did you forget about Charles’ surgery?” he asked as he closed the door behind him.
“Actually, I did. Is it that time already?” She looked over at the calendar on her desk. She waved at the sofa. “Make yourself comfortable. Can I get you anything?”
He looked at the teacup she’s left on the coffee table. “You wouldn’t happen to have any beer would you?”
“As a matter of fact, I do. And I think I’ll join you.”
She left the room and was back in a minute with two open bottles of beer. She handed one to Devin as she sat on the couch on the other side of the coffee table.
“How is Charles?” she asked. “Is he still nervous?”
“A little, but he’s handling it well. Peter said that he’d stay with him during all the tests tomorrow; he’ll make sure that everything is explained to him.”
“I’m glad, and you gave them the papers I gave you? The ones directing them to bill the foundation I set up?”
“It’s done,” he assured her.
“Now if we could only talk Father into the hip surgery that Peter suggested.”
Devin laughed. “Yeah, and try to talk Mt. Rushmore into moving.”
“Stubborn,” Catherine, stated.
“With a capital S,” he agreed. “But that isn’t my primary reason for coming up to see you,” he started.
“I take it Vincent isn’t back yet.”
Devin shook his head. “And I don’t think he’s in a hurry to return either. Father told me what happened, but I was wondering if you had anything to add.”
“Only that it was all my fault. I shouldn’t have pressured him like I did. I’ve been pushing a little for the last few months. And if I hadn’t maybe he’d at least still be speaking to me.”
“Don’t blame yourself Cathy. You only wanted what was normal. Maybe I can help. I can usually get him to listen to me.”
They talked for a while longer. Without going into all the details, Catherine was able to convey to him what had happened, and how. When he left he felt he had a pretty good understanding of what had happened, and even the beginning of a plan.
First thing the next morning, Devin headed down to where he knew Vincent was.He didn’t need a guide, since he and Vincent had discovered the river years ago. They’d explored the whole area extensively. Devin carried a lit lantern and a couple extra flashlights in his pack.
It only took a few hours to reach the huge cavern where the river ran. He looked down the cliff face to the opening of the small chamber he and Vincent had found. There was a faint light showing from it. Vincent was there.
Devin followed the narrow path that had been carved out of the solid rock by some long ago inhabitant of the chamber. He knew that Vincent could hear him coming and he didn’t try to move quietly. When he turned the corner and entered the chamber he was surprised by what he saw.
Vincent had actually furnished it. When they were boys, they would bring their bedrolls, an alcohol stove, what canned food they could filch from under William’s nose, some candle stubs and whatever book they were currently reading. They would sleep on the ground, eat straight from the cans and play out the fantasies from the book. Now the small chamber had niches for candles, a wooden bed frame with a couple of sleeping pads and a sleeping bag. There was even a table, chair, basin and pitcher. Vincent was lounging on the bed with a book in his hands.
“I love what you’ve done with the place,” Devin announced once he’d taken it all in. “How did you get all this down here?”
“I carried it,” said Vincent without looking up from his book.
Devin could see that this was going to be harder than he’d anticipated. “Aren’t you glad to see me?” he prodded. “It’s been almost six months.”
Vincent finally looked up from his book. “I’m almost always glad to see you, but right now I prefer to be alone.”
“Afraid someone might talk you out of your funk?” asked Devin, dropping his things on the floor near the entrance and taking a seat on the only chair.
“Devin!” said Vincent, exasperation plain in his voice.
“What? I brought Charles into the city for his surgery; it’s scheduled for Friday, by the way. Peter wants him to come Below when he’s released from the hospital. I thought you might like to be there for him when he arrives.”
“When will he out of the hospital?” Vincent asked.
“About a week after the surgery.”
“I might be back by then,” Vincent said, non-commitally.
“Come on, Bro, talk to me. We were always able to talk before,” Devin prodded.
“There is nothing worth talking about,” Vincent insisted.
“If there was nothing worth talking about, then I understand why you took off,” he said sarcastically.
Vincent looked Devin in the eye. “I didn’t want to talk about it!” He threw down the book and sat up. “Did it ever occur to you that there are just some things that can’t be fixed by talking?”
“What was it that Winslow’s mother used to say? Something about sharing a problem?”
“A problem shared is a problem halved,” Vincent supplied.
“That’s it, and it’s true. It always used to work for us.”
“It was more like blame shared was punishment halved for us… I might share the problem with you but there is no way you can take on half of it for me.”
“Try me!” Devin challenged.
Vincent looked across the chamber at him. “Did Father tell you what happened?” he asked.
“He did, and I went and talked to Chandler. They are both blaming themselves as much as you are blaming yourself.”
“Neither of them are to blame. I should have known better than to consider doing that.”
“Then you need to go back and tell them both. Father is beside himself and Chandler is just plain depressed.” Devin didn’t mind exaggerating a bit for a good cause.
“Devin, I don’t know how I can even look Catherine in the eye again!” Vincent was on his feet and pacing the small chamber.
“You need to face her… you need to apologize,” Devin told him.
“How can I apologize for something like that. All my life I’ve judged men who mistreat women and the first opportunity I get I injure the only woman I’ve ever loved.”
“I didn’t mean that. That will heal and it’s not the same thing. I meant you need to apologize to her for running out on her. You two had just had phenomenal sex and you don’t even stay to cuddle. You were out of there; talk about rude! The physical damage you did was secondary to the damage you did to her psyche…” Devin’s exaggeration gland was working overtime today.
“Phenomenal…” Vincent looked like he’d just been kicked.
“Yeah, that’s what she said.” Again, he figured that a little more embellishment couldn’t hurt. “Come on, tell me what happened; you don’t have to go into the more intimate details, just the facts.”
Vincent sat back down, defeated by Devin’s persistence.
“Weeks ago, we agreed that we should try,” he began. “Catherine said she knew it might be a slow process for me to work through all my fears, but she was willing. We started with cuddling and kisses. She made me agree not to leave when I became aroused; to just accept it as a natural thing…”
“Good for her,” said Devin approvingly.
“… She encouraged me to touch her, but I found that hard to do. It just seemed to be all about my pleasure, until she made me concentrate on the Bond when I touched her. I was surprised that it gave her as much pleasure as it did me. The slightest brush of my hand on bare skin sent a thrill through her.
“But it seemed to be backfiring, for both of us. We were both becoming more and more frustrated and we were both taking it out on everyone around us. We’d actually argued about it earlier that evening.
“I was taking her back to her threshold when there was a minor earthquake. I pushed her against the wall and shielded her. When it was over she brushed dust from my face and hair and I kissed her. It just seemed the thing to do, but it was different than before. Passions flared and she said we had to talk and took me back to my chamber.
“She told me that there were certain ways we could… make love… that would give her more of the control and she convinced me that it would be all right…” his voice trailed off as he became lost in the memories.
“And was it? All right, I mean?”
“Yes, it went very well, right up to the end. That was when I hurt her.”
“So other than that, it all went OK?” Devin asked.
“Yes, it was amazing!” Vincent said. “I never dreamed that it could be like that. The Bond was alive.”
“And other than the scratches…”
“It was more than scratches, I inflicted eight deep punctures!”
“Semantics! Whatever it was, that was the only injury… I mean you didn’t break any of her bones, or bite her or anything like that.”
“No, nothing like that,” Vincent confirmed.
“And you never felt like doing any of those things? I mean we all tend to nibble a little here, suck a little there, even occasionally leave a mark; a hickey…”
“Hickey?” Vincent questioned.
“Yeah, a hickey, kiss mark, love bite. It’s a tiny bruise caused by sucking the skin, usually on the neck. A little nibble might be part of giving a hickey, but sucking is enough to burst little blood vessels under the skin. It lasts about a week and it’s a kind of juvenile way of leaving your mark on your woman. Although I’ve had a few women leave their mark on me.”
Vincent nodded and Devin continued.
“OK, where was I… Oh yeah, you didn’t have the urge to bite or get rough?”
“No!” Vincent was scandalized at the very idea.
“Then I think that what you did was natural. She was on top, you were getting ready to come; it’s a biological urge to be as deep inside her when you do, so you held her in place.”
“And in the process, I hurt her,” Vincent protested.
“But if you could be guaranteed that nothing like that would ever happen again?”
“The only way to guarantee that it will never happen again, is to stay away from her,” Vincent put in.
“If you could be guaranteed that nothing like that would ever happen again?” Devin repeated.
“Devin, please!” Vincent was on his feet again, pacing.
“OK, then let’s just assume that it can be guaranteed.”
Vincent didn’t answer he just stared at Devin unbelievingly.
“Going on that assumption, there is a very simple solution,” Devin declared.
Vincent started to pace again.
“Clip your nails!” Devin said as if it was the most logical thing in the world.
Vincent stopped and stared at Devin.
Devin got up and went over to his pack and started to rummage through it. He pulled out a heavy duty toenail clipper and held it out to Vincent. “Clip your nails!” he repeated.
Vincent automatically reached out and took the clippers. “That easy?” he asked dropping onto the chair Devin had just vacated.
“You might want to take an emery board to the rough edges.” He rummaged in the pack again and pulled out an emery board and held it out to Vincent who took it. But if you don’t have those sabers…” He rubbed the scars on his left cheek “…on the ends of your fingers, you aren’t likely to do any damage. And you can touch her anywhere.”
The two men spent the rest of the day in companionable silence. They shared a meal, and Devin spread his sleeping bag on the floor. Vincent was out sitting on the bank of the river, staring off into the dark when Devin retired for the night.
When Devin woke the next morning, Vincent was up. He’d already bathed in the cold river, dressed and was ready to leave. He showed Devin his hands.
“If it wasn’t for those hairy knuckles, they’d look almost normal,” he commented as he inspected Vincent’s new manicure. “Very well done. I never knew why you let them grow anyway.”
“They are handy tools,” Vincent told him. “They are hard as rock, which makes them difficult to clip in the first place, but I use them for prying things open, opening envelopes, cutting cord or thread when I sew, even cutting fruit, when no one is around. I just got used to having them. Father quit trying to clip them when they started getting so hard. I clipped them this morning after I bathed. They were a lot softer. The hot water in the bathing pools should make it even easier.”
“So you’ll keep them that way?” asked Devin as he started packing up his gear.
“If it means that I can be with Catherine and know that I won’t hurt her again, yes!” He surprised Devin by chuckling. “It was such a simple solution, I don’t know why Catherine or I didn’t think of it.”
“You were both too close to the problem,” Devin told him. “It’s probably what Winslow’s mom meant by ‘a problem shared is a problem halved’. That other person is able to look at it more objectively. I could see the forest, where all you could see was the trees.”
Once they got back to the main tunnels, Vincent couldn’t wait until it was safe for him to go Above. He was at the threshold Below Catherine’s building before it was even completely dark. He watched the sunset from the roof while he waited for it to get dark enough for him to safely go over the wall and drop down to her balcony.
She wasn’t home yet when he did finally arrive, but he could feel that she was on her way.
Catherine kicked her door closed behind her and dropped her briefcase on the couch before she turned back to lock the door. She was unbuttoning her suit jacket when she noticed that the door to the balcony was open.
I don’t remember opening that this morning, she thought as she crossed the room to close it. That was when she saw Vincent standing at the balcony wall.
“Vincent!” she was happy to see him, but suddenly had a feeling that he was there to end their relationship. She wanted to rush to him and reassure him that it was all right, but she held back. “Are you OK?” she asked.
He didn’t turn around, she didn’t think that was a very good sign. “I’m well. Much better, actually. I talked with Devin.”
“What about,” she asked, joining him at the wall, but not touching him.
“About what happened.”
“Did it help you to talk to him?”
“Yes, it did. He pointed out that I owe you an apology.”
“You don’t need to apologize for anything, Vincent. I pushed you into something that you weren’t really ready for. The injury was minor, it’s already healing. I should apologize to you.”
“Not for that, Catherine.” He finally turned to face her. “I need to apologize for running out on you like I did. That was shameful. You had just given me the most memorable experience of my life and I ran away because one small thing had gone wrong. For that, I’m very sorry.” He took her hands as she gazed up at him, disbelieving.
“Where is Vincent, and what have you done with him?” she mumbled under her breath, causing Vincent to smile.
“I’m right here,” he told her, drawing her hands up to his mouth and kissing first one then the other. “And I’m not going anywhere, ever again.”
He dropped one of her hands and held his out to her. She took it again and kissed it, puzzled about what was going on. Happy, but puzzled.
“No, look at it!” he told her.
She did, finally dropping her eyes from his. She wasn’t sure what she was looking for, but then she saw it.
“What have you done?” she exclaimed as she inspected his fingers more closely.
“I’ve insured that what happened, will never happen again. I accept that it was an accident, but I am just making sure that it doesn’t happen again. It was Devin’s suggestion. It was so simple, I don’t know why neither of us thought of it.”
She held both his hands and looked up at him with tears in her eyes. “Then we’re OK?” she asked.
He smiled down at her. “Yes, Catherine, we’re OK.”
She threw her arms around his neck and hugged him. “Thank you, God!” she offered as he hugged her back.
Vincent picked her up and sat on the bench at the end of the balcony, holding her close.
“To use your words… are you OK?” he asked.
She resigned herself to telling him everything since she knew he’d be satisfied with no less.
“Father suggested that I see Peter Monday morning for a prescription for antibiotics. I called him at home and he saw me in his office before office hours. He looked at the wounds, said that they were clean and he saw no sign of inflammation. He said that they should heal quickly, but said that a couple of them were deep and would probably scar.”
“Have you been in much pain?” he asked, barely meeting her eyes.
“What did the Bond tell you?” she asked.
“I’ve intentionally kept it buried,” he admitted. Then he closed his eyes a moment. “You feel a little stiff, and it’s begun to itch, but there is no real pain.”
“You read it right,” she told him. “It hurt the first night, but Father had given me some pain pills. Peter gave me a prescription for some more, but I haven’t needed them. I’ll give them to Father to replace those he gave me.” She slipped off his lap and turned her back to him. “Let me show you.
“She pulled off the suit jacket she’d unbuttoned earlier and pulled her cream silk blouse out of the waistband of her slacks then slipped the waistband a little lower. Vincent could see two bandages, one on each side of her spine just above her waist. They stood out, starkly white against the peach perfection of her back.
“You’re still bandaged?” he asked, thinking it was more serious than she’d let on.
“Only for insurance,” she assured him. “I didn’t want my clothing to rub and irritate it or accidentally bump something and make it bleed. It would ruin my favorite blouse and be hard to explain if someone saw it. You can take them off.”
He tried to peel up the edge of the tape and found that it was difficult to pull it away from the skin without his nails.
“Catherine… I seem to be having a problem.”
She glanced back at him and saw him looking from his hand to her back and then back at his hand. She reached behind her and pulled the corner up on each bandage. He finished the job, gently pulling the gauze pads off.
“I had the same kind of experience,” she told him. “When I worked at Dad’s law firm, I always had the perfect manicure, but when I started training with Isaac, I found the nails to just be in the way. I cut them. It took some getting used to. I never realized how much I used them for little things like picking coins up off a counter, scraping things off dishes as I was taking them out of the dishwasher, scratching my head… I even removed staples with them.”
She was startled when she felt something warm touch each small wound in turn.
“What…”
“Shh,” he admonished her then he finished kissing each wound. He turned her in his arms and wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her to him. She sighed and hugged his head to her chest.
“I love you so much, Vincent,” she said as she held him. “I was so scared that I’d lost you forever. I didn’t know what I was going to do if I had.
EPILOGUE
Vincent woke the next morning, disoriented by the sun streaming through the sheer curtains at the French doors in Catherine’s bedroom. It only took a moment to remember where he was and that he held the woman he loved in his arms. He looked over at the alarm clock and was surprised to see that it was almost 9AM.
For a moment, he felt as if something was wrong, then it dawned on him. Catherine should have been at work over an hour ago.
“Catherine,” he gently brushed the hair out of her face so he could see her. “Catherine, I think you’ve overslept.”
He felt her momentary alarm as she woke and his words sunk in, then he felt her relax in his arms again. “Nope, didn’t,” she mumbled.
“But it’s only Friday,” he reminded her.
“The verdict was delivered on the case I was in court for,” she told him. “Sentencing isn’t until Monday. Joe gave me today off.”
“Then you don’t have to get up and go to work?” he asked.
“No,” she told him, snuggling closer. “I can sleep in three days in a row for a change.”
“And I won’t be stuck her all day by myself?”
Catherine opened one eye, realizing it was daylight. “What time is it?”
“Not late,” he told her. “Not yet nine.”
“No, you won’t be stuck here all day by yourself.” She propped herself on his chest and smiled at him. “I’ll keep you company… I’m sure we can find something to fill the time.”
