SECOND CHANCES - part 1

by Janet Rivenbark 

Catherine walked into Joe’s office and the smell of his lunch hit her like a brick wall. It positively reeked and her already rebellious stomach gave a lurch.

“What are you eating?” she asked, stopping just inside the door. She was trying to stay as far away from the source of the smell as possible.

“Liverwurst with onions and brown mustard on German rye. Why?”

“Are you sure it hasn’t gone bad?” She waved her hand in front of her face and swallowed.

He sniffed the sandwich then looked up at her. “Smells fine to me. I thought you liked liverwurst.”

“I do, but not when it smells like that.” She backed up another step, so that she was standing just outside his office door.

“Did you come here for a reason or just to criticize my lunch choice?” he asked with a grin.

“I just hope you have some breath mints if you have any important appointments this afternoon… I came to remind you that I’m leaving early for my doctor’s appointment.”

“I’ve got it on my calendar.” He waved at the desk pad that was his calendar and also the place he wrote down notes and odd doodles. Then he looked at her more closely, noting the pale skin and dark circles under her eyes. “You OK, Radcliffe? You have been looking a little peaked lately.”

“I think so. I’m just tired. I think all those weeks when I was working during the day and helping to look after my friend at night have finally caught up with me. My meals have been hit and miss and I’m probably anemic again. Peter will give me some vitamins and tell me to quit skipping meals. I’ll catch up on my sleep this weekend and I’ll be right as rain by Monday,” she assured him.

“I hope so, I can’t afford for my best investigator to get sick.”

“Thank you Joe, and I love you too.”

She grinned as she turned and hurried back to her desk. She straightened it, put the files she was working on in her desk drawer, picked up her things and made her way out of the office. She had just enough time to make it to Peter’s office.

' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' '

An hour and a half later she was sitting in the easy chair in front of Peter’s desk as he sat behind it going through the record of her exam.

“You are a little anemic,” he said as he wrote something on his prescription pad, “but that’s not unusual in your condition.”

“In my condition, what do you mean?” she asked, puzzled.

“Isn’t that why you are here?” he asked. Now he was puzzled. They hadn’t spoken and she’d only seen his nurse.

“I came because I’m tired all the time. I stumble home from the office, and am in bed before the sun goes down, I’m still tired when I wake up and I’m queasy most of the time. I can’t eat most of the day, but I’m ravenous by dinner. I haven’t felt this bad since I had mono when I was in college.”

“I thought you were spending your evenings Below.” She could tell he was stalling for time, as he sifted through the papers in her file. She wondered what was wrong and she was beginning to get a little nervous.

“Not for the last couple weeks. I took about a week off during and right after Vincent’s illness. Then when I went back to work, I was spending the nights on a cot in his chamber. Once he was up and around, I was only Below in the evenings and on weekends. Lately, since he’s almost back to normal, I’ve only been going down on the weekends. I guess it’s no wonder I’m exhausted.”

“So when was your last period?” he asked.

Catherine looked puzzled, then pulled her planner out of her briefcase and started leafing through the pages.

Peter watched as her brow furrowed. “The second week in May. It’s been six weeks. I was supposed to start on June 3rd. It’s July 7th. I’m almost two months late. I’ve been so busy I didn’t even notice. It could be stress…” Her eyes went round as she looked across the desk at Peter. “You don’t think I’m…” she paused.

“Oh, I know you are. It’s one of the standard tests we do on all young women who come to us reporting the symptoms you did.”

“Pregnant?” she finished, stunned.

“About a month?” he asked.

She looked back at her planner. “Six weeks,” she provided.

“You know the date of conception?” he asked a little surprised.

“It’s hard not to, when it only happened that one time.”

“Then, keeping that in mind, you should be due the second week in February.”

Peter could tell that Catherine was completely floored by his news.

“Are you OK, Cathy?” he asked.

She shook her head and smiled at him. “Yeah, I think so. I just can’t believe it.”

“Believe it,” he said with a chuckle. “I assume Vincent is the father?”

She nodded. “And I’m not really sure how I’m going to tell him this. He’s recovered his memory, most of it, but he doesn’t remember much about while he was sick. He says he only has some vague memories. Just flashes mostly. Other than that, he remembers only a little of the time from when he decided to come Above until he woke up in his chamber almost a week later. Father keeps assuring him that it will come back.”

“But it hasn’t. I remember the first time this happened, right after Lisa left. It took him several months before he got it all back. It’s only been six weeks so far. He’s older this time. It might take longer or he might not get it all back at all.”

She closed her planner and sat back. “I’ve got a lot to think about,” she said as she dropped the planner back into her bag. “I assume that prescription is for pre-natal vitamins.”

He handed two prescriptions to her. “It is and the other one is an extra iron supplement. Before you leave, I want to you to set up an appointment for next week. I want to do a complete OB work up. We will be seeing a lot of each other between now and February.” He winked at her.

She smiled at him a bit wanly, then stood.

Peter came around the desk and hugged her. “Just remember, I’m here for you. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to call me.”

“I know you go Below every Sunday for dinner and chess. You will keep this to yourself for now, won’t you?” she asked as he walked her to the door of his office.

“Of course. I won’t discuss it with anyone until you let me know that everyone involved has been informed.”

“Thanks, Peter.” She stretched up on her toes and kissed him on the cheek. “Why do I have a feeling that Vincent isn’t going to take this well?

“He’ll come around,” Peter assured her. “That man is a pushover for kids.”

' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' '

Catherine was inclined to agree with Peter. She was pretty sure that it might be a little difficult for Vincent to swallow to begin with, but he did love children and one of his own would just be all that much better. At least, it was in her opinion.

By the time she got home her appetite had returned and she went to the phone and ordered from her favorite deli even before she changed her clothes and put on her pajamas.

While she ate she made a list; the more she wrote the more she thought of that had to be added to the list. She filled one page of a legal pad and was halfway through a second before she was finished. The first thing on her list was ‘Talk to Vincent.’ Next to it she wrote: ‘Saturday, July 8.’ Tomorrow.

' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' '

Catherine slept in the next morning. In fact, she slept the clock around. She’d gone to bed around 9pm and it was almost 10am when she woke up. She felt better than she had in several weeks. Even the queasiness was absent. She hadn’t been drinking coffee for the last couple weeks; the mere thought just made her stomach churn, so she went to the kitchen and made a pot of tea and decided to get adventurous with some raisin toast. She even put a little butter on it.

While she waited for the tea to steep she went back into the living room and got her note pad. She had the thread of an idea. She flipped over the two pages she’d filled the night before and tossed it and a pencil on the small table in the corner of her kitchen. When she was settled in her chair with her breakfast she picked up the pencil and wrote the word BOND across the top of the page.

Vincent was still worried about the absence of the Bond. Worried that it had somehow served its purpose or that his illness had caused some irreparable damage of some sort. She’d assured him over and over that it would come back, and even if it didn’t it wasn’t that important. Even Father had tried to reassure him.

She sipped tea and nibbled on her toast as she made some notations.

Bond

Things to ask Vincent:

·       Was the Bond gone when Vincent first came to my apartment when he was sick?

·       If he doesn’t know, ask him when he first noticed it was gone.

Possible reasons the Bond has disappeared:

·       Vincent has been recovering from a serious illness, and is in no condition to have to deal with my emotions or any emergencies that might arise and the Bond is compensating for that.

·       It’s a kind of protective mode that will keep him from experiencing the discomforts of pregnancy (morning sickness, etc.,) labor and child birth.

·       It has something to do with the “other” part of himself that seems to have disappeared or is, at least, dormant for now.

She added the last point more as a hunch or an afterthought, she really had no idea. The only thing she really knew about the Bond was that it wasn’t a two-way street. And least not completely. She did have some sense of him, but that was all, just a sense that told her that he was alive. That hadn’t disappeared. It was still there, and that was one of the reasons she was so sure that his side of the Bond would return at some point. 

She hadn’t really written much, but it was succinct and to the point. She couldn’t very well take her lists with her when she went Below, although it did help to write everything down. She left them on her desk when she went to dress.

She took her time, expecting the nausea to return, but it didn’t. Before she’d left Peter’s office the nurse had given her a stack of pamphlets and a book. She read the pamphlet on morning sickness before she’d gone to bed. It said that about half of pregnant women suffer from both nausea and vomiting, one quarter have nausea alone, and one quarter luck out altogether and have nothing. The nausea usually starts around 6 weeks of pregnancy, but it can begin as early as 4 weeks. It tends to get worse over the next month or so, but it usually disappears by the end of the first trimester. Some women continue to have morning sickness over the course of the entire pregnancy. As far as she could tell it had started for her at something more like two weeks. She remembered her dad telling her that her mom hadn’t had any, and Nancy had told her that she’d been sick the entire nine months with her first, but hadn’t had any with her second.

I guess every woman and every pregnancy is different, she mused as she dried off after her shower.

She glanced at the full length mirror on the back of the bathroom door as she hung up her towel. She knew that her body probably wouldn’t be showing any signs yet, but she just had to look. She turned sideways and studied her reflection.

“I’ll be damned,” she said out loud as her hand went to the slight roundness of her abdomen that hadn’t been there a few weeks before.

She had noticed that her skirts and slacks had been feeling a little tight for the last couple weeks, but she’d attributed that to being bloated from the almost constant nausea. Then she looked closer at her breasts. The nipples and areolas were definitely darker and the breasts themselves looked a little bigger.

“No wonder my bras have felt a little tight,” she said as she walked into her bedroom to dress.

She debated what to wear. She had a pair of navy blue cotton pants with elastic and a drawstring in the waist. She put those on then reached for a light summer sweater. She grabbed a light jacket then opened her jewelry box for her watch. Her crystal necklace had been missing since Vincent was sick, but she couldn’t remember the last place she’d had it. She knew she’d been wearing it when she came home that night and found him on her floor, but everything ran together after that. She’d been all over the living room, looking under furniture. She’d gone through the clothes hamper and all the drawers in the bathroom and her bedroom.

After Vincent left, she had showered, changed clothes and gone out, but she didn’t remember if she’d taken the necklace off at some point or if she’d put it back on.

She hadn’t mentioned that it was missing to Vincent, because she didn’t want to upset him. She’d thought about asking Mouse if he’d retrace their route to and from the chamber where he’d found Vincent and look for it, but she hadn’t gotten around to it yet. 

' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' '

When she climbed down the ladder half an hour later she was smiling to herself.

She was surprised when Vincent met her only a few hundred yards past the first sentry post.

“How did you get here so fast?” she asked as she leaned back after a hug.

He could see the hope in her eyes, and smiled at her sadly.

“No, the Bond isn’t back. I’ve been trying to get more exercise for the last week so I’ve been walking. I just happened to be close when I heard the sentry announce that you were on your way.”

“It doesn’t matter about the Bond,” she rushed to assure him as they turned and started walking. “What does matter is that you’re feeling well enough to walk this far. What does Father say?”

“He doesn’t want me doing any real work yet,” he said as he ducked his head self-consciously, “but he’s allowing me to go back to teaching and sitting on the council. I’ve also been spending time in the nursery almost every day. Father has ordered me to nap from two to four every afternoon, but I’ve been sneaking out and going there. Makes me feel like a delinquent teenager again.”

“You were never a delinquent,” she argued with a grin.

“No, but I wasn’t always the model son Father seems to remember. I got quite good at making my bed look like I was asleep in it while I was sneaking out to wander in the park. I had a lot of trouble sleeping after I was sick that first time.”

“Are you having any trouble this time?” she asked.

“Not as long as I don’t nap in the afternoon,” he said with a chuckle.

“I was wondering… When did you first notice that the Bond had disappeared?” she asked after they’d walked a little.

“I was reading my journals about a week after I woke up, and there was a detailed description of the Bond. I searched myself and it wasn’t there.”

“Do you remember if it was still there at any time while you were in my apartment? I know you were sick, but I was just wondering.”

He stopped and she could tell he was searching his memory. “I have a vague memory of reaching your balcony that first night. I knew you weren’t home before I got halfway there, but I was inclined to disbelieve anything at that point, even the Bond.”

“How about that last morning, when you first woke up.”

“It was still there. I remember checking just to make sure that you were occupied before I went into the bathroom and took off my clothes to bathe. I’m surprised I didn’t hear you when you came in to get my clothes and leave that robe.”

“You were occupied in the shower. I know how good a hot shower can feel after you’ve been sick, and you made it easy by leaving all your clothes in a pile right in front of the door.”  

They walked for a time in silence, then Catherine decided that there was no time like the present.

“Is there a place we can go to talk privately?” she asked.

“My chamber?” he suggested.

“Your chamber is usually pretty busy.”

“Not lately. Cullen helped me hang a rug over the door. It’s something that Mouse made that actually works. There is a rod in the bottom that hooks into a bracket down at floor level, and when it’s unhooked, I just pull a cord and there is a system that pulls it up in layers and it stores just above the door. I think Father called it a Roman shade.”

“Ingenious! Why didn’t someone think of that before?”

“Mouse said he did, but he never had a reason to build one. We were in a council meeting and Mary asked if there was some way to put a door on the entrance to the nursery. She wanted one of those Dutch doors where you can close the bottom and leave the top open. Some of the smaller children have been wandering off and she thought that if she had a door, she could keep them in the chamber. Cullen said he’d work on it, and that was when Mouse told us about his idea. It wouldn’t work for the nursery, but I asked him to install one for me to test. It works so well that he’s had requests for several more.”

“Then it looks like your chamber it is. It’s warmer there than some other places.”

When they arrived it was warm, and Catherine took off her jacket and hung it next to Vincent’s cloak on the rack.

“Are you well, Catherine?” he asked once they were in the better light of his chamber. “You look a little pale.”

“I’ve just had a bit of an upset stomach this week.”

“Are you feeling better?” he asked with concern.

“Much. I actually got a good night’s sleep last night, about twelve hours, and I felt a lot better when I got up this morning.” She went and sat on his bed while he let down the rug and latched it at the bottom. “How about you?”

“I feel fine,” he said as he sat in the chair at the table. “I just can’t seem to convince Father of that.”

“He’s your Father, and that is what they do, they worry. I know mine did.”

“I’ve recovered a bit more of my memory. Only a few things; most of which I’d rather not remember. I remember destroying your living room… actually, I don’t remember all of it, I remember seeing it that last day I was there. The door from the balcony to your living room was gone, and so was the door from the living room into your bedroom.”

“Cullen came up and made repairs. I hope you’re not superstitious, because you also broke a mirror, not to mention a glass curio cabinet and a glass coffee table.”

He groaned at her words.

“I’m sorry Catherine…” he started.

“I’m not,” she said with a smile. “Those were things that came from the decorator my dad hired. The curio cabinet and the coffee table weren’t really my style; too modern. And I never did like the mirror on the wall right next to the balcony doors. Cullen hung new doors while you were recuperating Below and I put a painting of my mother where the mirror used to be. It was one that Daddy had over the fireplace at his place. I replaced the coffee table with a wooden one and I found a curio cabinet that looks better in that room then the old one did. And since it’s larger, there is more room for my collections.”

“But I destroyed your things,” he pointed out.

“And that is just it… they were things and not important. I’m happy that you came to me and that you trusted me. Those things were replaced. You can’t be.”

“Kipper said there was blood on the carpet?”

“Kipper has a big mouth,” she said with a laugh. “Yes, you cut your hand. I’m not sure on what, but there was blood on the wall where the mirror was. I got it off the wall and out of the carpet.”

“It didn’t stain; ruin the carpet? I know your carpet is a light color.”

“Peter told me to try peroxide. I had a bottle in the bathroom. I soaked the stains with it and it came right out. I was amazed.” She didn’t tell him that there had also been blood on one of the sofas, the blanket she’d covered him with, and his and her clothes.

“How has work been?” he asked. “It seems like forever since I saw you last.”

“I’m sorry I haven’t been down all week. I’ve been playing catch up at work. I worked on the 4th instead of taking it off. It was so quiet in the office. I got piles of work done. I’m finally caught up.”

“Seems that is something else I’m responsible for,” he said as he slouched in his chair and stared at his hands.

“No it’s not! It was my choice to be here. Father and Mary were doing just fine without my help. They had plenty of volunteers, but I was determined to be here. When you left my place that evening, I was so sure that you were going to be OK, then I got home I found that note from Father. I guess, after that, I was a little paranoid about leaving you for fear that while I was gone you’d get worse again. I had to be here, for me just as much as for you.”

“I’m grateful you were. Every time I opened my eyes you were right there beside me, reading to me, sometimes asleep on the cot or on the bed next to me. But you were always there. I didn’t know your name, but I knew who you were.” He looked up at her and smiled. “What was it you wanted to talk about?”

She took a deep breath and looked up at him.

“Do you remember anything else about the time you spent at my place?” she asked. Her tone puzzled him.

“Not much. I barely remember getting there. I’m surprised I waited for it to get dark. I do remember that I had a line of poetry stuck in my head, but I wasn’t sure who had written it. If I’d been in my right mind I would have known it was Dylan Thomas, but in the state I was in, I guess I was lucky to know my own name. I finally found the book I wanted, and I felt that I just had to tell you.” He picked up a battered book and handed it to her. “You weren’t home and I remember thinking that I wouldn’t be able to hold on much longer, and I was angry. I remember flinging that book into the night off your balcony and after that, there are only fragments until I woke in your bed to hear you reciting the very words I’d wanted to tell you.”

Catherine looked at the book. The cover was separating from the bound pages and there were water stains.

“How did you get it back?”

“Father sent Zach up to your apartment with that note. On his way back he saw a book in the gutter on the park side of the street in front of your building. He couldn’t stand to leave it so he picked it up and stuck it in his pocket. He didn’t even think about it until days later when he was going through his clothes before putting them in the laundry basket. He found the book. When he opened it, he was surprised to see Father’s name on the bookplate on the inside cover. He took it to Father, who remembered giving it to me. He set it aside and just found it the other day. Then he brought it back to me. When I saw it, it triggered the memory I just told you.”

“It’s just a little worse for its adventure,” she observed. “It’s not a first edition, but it was printed in 1939, it can likely be repaired. My friend Jenny probably knows someone who can do it.”

Vincent held his hand out and she gave him the book. “No, I think I’ll keep it as it is. We both went through a lot.” He got up and took the book to the shelf where he fitted it into an empty spot.

“What do you remember of the rest of the day after you woke up,” she asked when he was seated again.

“I think I went back to sleep, and when I woke again, you were up and moving around the room. When you saw that I was awake you came over and put your hand on my forehead and asked me how I felt. When I said I felt better, you asked me if I thought I could eat something.”

“You said you were hungry, but that you’d like to take a shower first. I think that is what convinced me that the worst was over.”

“I could smell myself,” he said. “I would have had to have been dead not to notice that… Then while I was in the shower, you stole my clothes.”

She laughed at that. “I didn’t steal them, I took them and washed them. I left you a robe.”

“That fit. I wondered about that.”

“It was supposed to have been a gift at some later date; Christmas or your birthday. I saw it in a store and had to get it for you. I meant to bring it down to you after you left, but I keep forgetting it.”

“Did I tell you then that I enjoyed having breakfast with you? It was delicious.”

“It’s hard to mess up scrambled eggs, bacon and toast, but I can cook a few things. That’s one of them. You didn’t say much while you ate and by the time you were finished you were tired again.”

“And I went back to bed. That was something that I’d never experienced before. You had changed the bed linens and the sheets were so soft and they smelled so good, and since you’d stolen my clothes…” he gave her another shy smile, “I had to sleep nude. I don’t think I’ve ever been quite that comfortable in a bed before. I slept soundly for the rest of the day, and when I woke, you were lying next to me, on top of the covers, sound asleep. Those three days were probably the start of your sleep deprivation. Anyway, I got up and found my clean clothing neatly folded on your vanity chair. I dressed and when you woke I was standing at the door to the balcony waiting for it to get dark enough to go home.”

“You knew that the worst wasn’t over, didn’t you?”

“I felt it, but you thought it might be, and I wanted to believe that it was. I just wanted to get back Below in case I was right. I also felt as if I could sleep for a week.”

You did sleep for a week, or almost, but there was just a little more excitement before that… Do you remember anything between the time you went back to bed and when you woke up?”

“No. I was asleep all day… wasn’t I?” She could see the fear creeping into his eyes. “Did something happen?”

She took a deep breath and looked at him. She smiled a little. “You could say that.” The expression on his face had her reaching for his hands. “It’s OK! It wasn’t bad. I just need for you to know, and I want you to listen until I’m done.” He nodded slowly. She could feel the tension in his hands. “It wasn’t bad, Vincent. It fact it was wonderful.” She hesitated, searching for words. She didn’t want it to sound like a romance novel, but she also didn’t want to get too clinical.

“After you went back to bed, I straightened up. I vacuumed the carpet again to make sure all the glass was out of it. I made sure the blanket that was covering the balcony door in the living room was well secured. That was when I cleaned the blood out of the carpet. Then I decided I needed a shower. I hadn’t bathed in three days either. I showered, but I’d forgotten to take clothes into the bathroom. I put on my robe and was getting clothes out of a drawer when you woke up. I actually felt you looking at me before you spoke. I turned to you and when you saw that I had a pair of jeans in my hand, you said. ‘Catherine, you’re exhausted. You should sleep too.’ I put the jeans back in the drawer and pulled out a nightgown, but by the time I had it on and slipped into the bed you were sound asleep again.” When she paused, Vincent looked at her and she let go of his hands as he sat back.

“It’s all right that you slept next to me. You did it a few times here while I was ill. It was actually quite comforting,” he told her.

“It was for me too and it was that time. I went right to sleep. You were right, I was exhausted. I woke a few hours later and while we slept, we’d gravitated toward each other. I was on my left side facing the French doors and you were cuddled up against my back with your arm around my waist.”

Vincent looked a little upset by that revelation. She noticed that his hands were clenched into fists where they rested on the arms of his chairs.

“It was actually a wonderful way to wake up, Vincent. You were nuzzling my neck… and you kissed me there.” Now she was afraid to look at him. She closed her eyes. “And you were aroused…” She took a deep breath. “Vincent, we made love.” She heard him gasp, but she rushed on. “It was wonderful, Vincent. The most beautiful experience of my life. It just seemed to happen so naturally. It was just so right.”

“Did I hurt you?” he asked through clenched teeth.

She looked at him then. She could see the pain in his eyes. “Didn’t you hear what I just said? I said it was wonderful, the most beautiful experience of my life. No, you didn’t hurt me. You couldn’t, I don’t think the Bond would allow it.”

“I don’t remember,” he whispered. “I should remember something like that.”

“Peter said that the last time it took a couple of months for everything to come back. It will come back this time too. I know it will.” She couldn’t believe the pain this was causing him. “Vincent, I love you. That was something that I had been wanting for ages. I realized that one of the reasons you didn’t want to go there, was that you were afraid that you might hurt me. That day, I honestly thought that you’d initiated it because you knew you were weaker than normal, and thought it might be a good time. I welcomed you, Vincent.”

He turned away from her and rested his head in his hands. She didn’t know if he was more upset because he’d made love to her, or because he couldn’t remember doing it.

She hesitated to tell him the rest, but she knew that she had to.

“Vincent, there’s more,” she said.

“More? What more could there be?” he ground out.

“I’m pregnant,” she said in almost a whisper.

At those words his head snapped up, but she couldn’t read his eyes this time.

He stared at her for several long minutes.

“Pregnant?” he asked. “Are you sure?”

“I saw Peter yesterday. I didn’t even think about that. I just knew that I haven’t been feeling well and that I was exhausted all the time.”

“That means you’re what… Six weeks?” His voice was so soft she could barely hear it.

“Yes.” She still couldn’t read his reaction.

“It’s still early, there’s still time,” he said without looking at her.

“Time for what?” she asked.

He didn’t answer her right away.

“To terminate it. Peter can do it. He’ll understand,” he finally said.

She was so shocked that it took her a few seconds to find her voice.

“You want me to have an abortion?” she gasped. “No, Vincent! Never! I’m all for a woman’s right to choose, but I’m choosing to have this baby.” She put her hands protectively over her stomach. “Our baby… your son or daughter. Conceived in love!”

Vincent was on his feet pacing the chamber. She figured she was lucky he was staying instead of taking off like he often did when stressed.

“But what kind of a child? What if it is like me?” he asked, finally looking at her. “I know the kind of life it would have. I’ve lived it! No, this can’t happen.”

“It has happened, Vincent. It’s done and I won’t undo it. And what has been so awful about your life? You’ve lived it among people who loved you and have always taken care of you, just as you love them and take care of them. Even if this baby does look like you, it will have you as a guide, a father. You’ll be there to help it through the hard spots. And it will have me too. It will have the advantages of both Above and Below, whether it’s like you or like me, or even a combination of us both.”

He stopped pacing long enough to look at her. “I can’t do this,” he told her.

She was beginning to get angry. As far as she was concerned, he was being uncharacteristically selfish.

“What’s for you to do?” she asked a bit sarcastically. “Seems to me that I’m the one who’s going to be doing all the work here. I’m the one with morning sickness. I’m the one who is exhausted all the time. I’ll be the one who will be getting as big as a house and waddling everywhere. I’m the one who’s going to have to carry this baby for nine months, then push it out during God knows how many hours of labor. That’s probably why the Bond disappeared. It’s gone so you’ll be protected from all that.”

“All the more reason for you to terminate the pregnancy!”

“I won’t. I love this baby. I will have it. I don’t need you to do that. You did your part, you made sure the sperm got to where it needed to be. The rest is up to me.”

She was on her feet and when she stepped in front of him he stopped pacing.

When he grasped her arms she thought he was going to pull her close and apologize for being stupid, but instead he just stared into her eyes for a moment before he spoke again.

“I won’t do this, Catherine. If you choose to go through with this, then I wash my hands of it. I swore that I would never even take the chance of this happening. I will not be responsible for another being going through life looking like this.” He let go of her arms and gestured to himself. “I can’t, Catherine.”

With that, he turned and left the chamber, leaving a stunned Catherine standing next to his table.

She’d expected an extreme reaction, but never in her wildest dreams did she expect him to react like this.

She felt as if her heart was breaking. She dropped into his chair. It took several minutes to compose herself. Then she got up, took her coat from the rack by the door and left for home. She met several people along the way. They greeted her and smiled and she spoke and smiled back. She congratulated herself that none of them realized that anything was wrong, but she wouldn’t, for the life of her, have been able to tell anyone who she’d seen or what any of them had said.

She managed to reach her apartment before she broke down.

A few hours later she called Peter. He was out and she left a message on his machine.

“Peter, it’s Cathy. I talked to Vincent. He didn’t take the news well. I’m not even sure if he’s planning to tell Father. As far as I am concerned you can tell him when you see him. I’ll talk to you later.”

Catherine forced herself to eat dinner. Afterward, she got out her list. She checked off the first item then added another half page of things she had to do in preparation for the baby. She hoped that Vincent would come around, in fact, she was pretty sure he would, but just in case he didn’t, she needed to be prepared.  

' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' '

She was startled out of her depressed stupor the next evening when there was a knock on her door. She was surprised to see Peter when she looked through the peep hole.

She opened the door to let him in and was even more surprised at his comment after he hugged her.

“I talked to the stubborn son of a bitch.”

She almost smiled.

“Are you talking about Vincent or Father?” she asked as they walked around the sofa and sat.

“Vincent. I always knew he was obstinate, but I never thought he was unreasonable. He told me what he asked you to do. He actually thinks that is the best thing for all concerned. He’s angry that you won’t even consider it.”

“I was stunned too,” she admitted, “and the more I think about it, the more I realize that he’s probably not going to give in on this. At first I was sure he would come to his senses after he had some time, but now I think I’m on my own.”

“Are you sure?” Peter asked. “He loves you. I don’t see how he can’t love his own child.”

“Me either, Peter… but I once read a magazine article that said it’s hard for a man to think of an unborn child as something tangible. Some come around when the woman starts to look pregnant, and most eventually come around by the time the child is born, but quite often it just doesn’t sink in until they can actually hold the baby. It’s really hard to take in the fact that it’s Vincent we are talking about, but then it is just one more piece of proof that he’s only human.” She gave him a weak smile. “I think everyone is convinced of that except him. Did you talk to Father?”

“I did and I don’t know what has surprised him more: the fact that you are actually pregnant, or Vincent’s reaction to it. He said he’d talk to him, but even he’s not sure if he’ll get anywhere… You said you were on your own, so what are you planning?”

“Well, I was wondering if you’d agree to a home birth?” she asked.

“Considering the circumstances, I was actually going to suggest it myself. Although we will have to keep our options open, in case of complications.”

“I realize that, but just in case this baby does look like Vincent, I want to be in a secure location so it can be protected.”

“I’ll work on that,” he promised. “You want to do it here?” He looked around considering the comparatively thin apartment walls.

“Actually, no. I’m going to need more room after the baby is born, so I’ll be moving. Daddy had a place that he’d just finished renovating. I saw it just before Vincent got sick and I was trying to figure out what to do with it. I was thinking about the possibility of living there even before all this happened. There is even some furniture in it. Daddy was planning to ask Kay to marry him and I think he was looking at it as their future home. It’s close to here and to Kay’s kids. And an added bonus, it’s only a couple blocks from your house.”

“I remember that. Charles told me about it right after he bought it. He took me there while he was having the work done. It’s big! You sure you need that much room?”

“Well, if the baby looks like Vincent, it’s going to have to have a safe place to live. If I had some small two-bedroom apartment it would be too confining. That house has four floors, a finished basement, a roof garden and a walled back yard. I love the master suite on the top floor. I can use the small sitting room as a nursery. When the baby is old enough I’ll move it down to the third floor and put in a baby monitor.”

“You’ve put some thought into this,” he commented.

“I’ve done nothing but since I came home yesterday. Daddy had a housekeeper’s suite in the basement, and I thought that we could set that up for the birth. The house shares inside walls with neighbors, and I wouldn’t want to disturb anyone. The basement would work better.”

“I’ll take a look at it and start setting it up. How are you going to explain the pregnancy to your friends?”

“I’m not. I’m just going to drop out of sight for a while. I’m going to tell Joe that I’m quitting my job for health reasons. Then when I start to show, I’ll tell everyone that I’m going somewhere like one of those health resorts in the Southwest for a while. I’ll stay in touch with everyone, then after the baby is born I’ll ‘come home.’ If the baby doesn’t look like Vincent, I’ll just tell everyone that I’d anticipated a difficult pregnancy and had gone to a place that specialized in that. I’d lied to keep everyone from worrying. If the baby looks like Vincent, I’ll get on with my life, but it will just be much quieter. I’ll work it out.”

“When do you plan to move?”

“As soon as possible. I want to do it while I can still climb the stairs and do some of the work myself.”

“Just remember that the first trimester is the most critical. Take it easy and get plenty of rest and for goodness sake, eat!”

“I can assure you that I’ve eaten more in the last two days than I normally do in a week. When I got up yesterday, there was no more nausea, and I’ve been ravenously hungry since I came back from Below.”

“That’s unusual, the morning sickness usually lasts most of the first trimester.”

“Well, mine started almost a month ago, and I never actually threw up. Maybe it had as much to do with stress as it did with being pregnant,” she suggested.

“Maybe, but we also have to keep in mind who the father is, so even the smallest things could mean something. If there is anything, and I mean anything out of the ordinary, I want you to call me. Even if it’s the middle of the night.”

“Yes, Peter,” she said and patted his hand. “I was wondering if Father wants to be involved in this process.”

“As of right now, he just wants me to keep him abreast of developments, with your permission, of course.”

“That’s fine with me.”

“And, since you want a home birth, I’d like to ask Jacob and Mary to assist. If everything goes well, Jacob and I can sit back and drink tea while Mary handles it all.”

“Of course. It will be nice to have friends there.”

' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' '

After Peter left, Father went straight to Vincent’s chamber.

“We have to talk,” he announced as he walked into the chamber.

Vincent looked up from the book he was trying to read and gestured to the chair on the other side of the table.

“I thought it might be too much to expect for Peter not to speak to you. Make yourself comfortable, Father.” Vincent closed his book and set it aside.

“What do you plan to do?” Father asked.

“I don’t think that is a legitimate question, Father. Catherine has already made that decision, and she’s obviously in control in this situation.”

“Peter said that you asked Catherine to terminate the pregnancy.”

“I did. In my opinion, it would be the best decision for all concerned. I would think that you would agree.”

Father sighed. “I always thought that you were quite possibly a hybrid creature of some kind, but hybrids are generally sterile. I was obviously wrong. I also thought that you would never be able to participate in any kind of normal relationship with a woman, but I was obviously wrong about that too… I WAS WRONG, VINCENT! You have proven me wrong, you and Catherine. I think that you should do what is right, step up and be there for Catherine. Both she and that child are going to need you.”

“You are preaching again, but you didn’t practice what you preach. What about Devin, Father?”

“You won’t allow that I might have learned from my mistakes?” Father asked.

“It’s not open to discussion, Father.” Vincent broke in. “Yes, you probably learned, but this is different. I’m not what Catherine needs. She needs someone who can be with her Above, in the open, among her friends. I can’t do that. Once her child is born, she will see that. She will move on and her child will have the father it needs.”

“And if the child is like you?”

“That is a bridge that will be crossed when it is arrived at. Catherine has the means to provide for any child… normal or like me. She is a strong woman.”

“It doesn’t matter how strong a person is, we all need someone occasionally,” Father announced. He rose and started for the door. He turned as he reached it. “I know that the way I raised you probably influenced your decision, but I hope you rethink this. In my opinion, what you are doing is wrong. I don’t love you any less, but I still think you are wrong.”   

' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' '

Catherine took pains with her appearance on Monday, not because she wanted to look good, but because she wanted to keep up that ‘peaked’ look that Joe had commented on.

She put her makeup on as she usually did, but she skipped the blush. She smudged the eyeliner on her lower lids to accentuate the dark circles she still had. She used a pale lipstick. She brushed out her hair, then pulled it back into a pony tail, and she wore a gray suit. She’d never looked good in gray. She felt better than she had in over a month, but now she actually looked worse. Exactly what she was hoping for.

She got to the office a little early. After leaving her things on her desk, she headed for Joe’s office.

“You got a minute, Joe?” she asked when she reached the door.

“Always for you, Rad…” he looked up, and he stopped in mid-word. “Damn girl. What happened to you? You don’t look so good.”

“That’s what I want to talk to you about, Joe.”

“Bad news from the doc?” he asked.

“Not that bad, at least not as long as I follow my doctor’s orders.” She walked in and sat on the sofa across from his desk.

“And what would those orders be?”

“He wants me to take some time off.” When Joe started to speak she held up her hand. “I know you can’t afford to keep me on the payroll for what could be an extended period of time, so I’ll be resigning. I can give you half days for two or three weeks to train my replacement, but I need to be out of here by the first of August.”

“Don’t do this to me, Cathy!”

“I’m sorry, Joe, but it can’t be helped. I might even have to leave town. I’m looking into one of those health resorts out west.”

“What’s wrong with you?”

“Peter isn’t really sure. I’ve been anemic off and on for years.” That much was true, but it was due more to her bad eating habits than anything else. She’d overcome it in the last few years by eating better and taking supplements. “Lately, it’s gotten worse and nothing seems to be working. Peter insists that I need to take some time off so I can concentrate on my health. I’m just lucky that I can afford to do that.”

“It’s gonna hurt, but you’ve got anything you need Radcliffe. You know that. Do you think you might come back once you get a handle on this?”

“I don’t know, Joe. It’s been a rough couple of years and I’m sure that contributed to whatever this is. I’ve been shot, beaten up, kidnapped, and almost drowned. I’ll make a decision about work when I’m better.”

“You’ll stay in touch?”

“Of course I will. You’ve been a good friend, Joe.”

Joe got up and moved to the front of his desk where he sat on the edge.

“Be straight with me, Radcliffe, just how serious is this?”

“Serious enough, Joe, but like I said, if I follow my doctor’s orders, and I intend to do that, I will be fine.” She stood and patted Joe on the shoulder. “You’ll just have to abuse another rookie in the future.”

Joe reached out, pulled her into his arms and hugged her tight.

“It won’t be the same around here without you, you know that,” he said as she returned his hug.

“You’ll do fine,” she assured him. “Now…” she took a deep breath, “I’ve got an official letter of resignation for John. And like I said. I’ll work half days until the end of the month. That should give me time to clear my desk and hand off any ongoing cases. If you hire someone to replace me before I leave I’ll do my best to train them. If you don’t mind, I’d like to work afternoons, noon to five. Mornings have been a little rough lately.” She wasn’t sure if the morning sickness would come back, but she didn’t want to take any chances. “I’ll be leaving about one today.”

“Whatever you want, Cathy. I’ll call a meeting of the investigations crew this afternoon and fill everyone in. I’ll divide your cases among them and have each one spend some time with you to familiarize them with the files.”

The rest of the month flew by and when Catherine walked into the office on her last day of work, they surprised her with a party. Not much work got done that last day, and Catherine left feeling a little guilty about the lies she’d told Joe. She knew that it had been necessary, at least for now, but it didn’t make her feel much better about it. She hoped that a year from now she’d be able to come tell everyone the real reason for leaving and introduce them to her new son or daughter.

' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' '

The move from her apartment wasn’t as difficult as she’d anticipated. She debated telling friends about it, but then she decided to tell everyone she was going out of town. It would make it look more like she’d left temporarily if she kept the apartment so she just moved her personal stuff out and locked it up. She promised to keep everyone informed and to call so she didn’t anticipate a lot of letter writing.

She was able to move into the new house by the middle of August and when she left her apartment she only had a couple suitcases. Everything else had been sent over to the house earlier. Instead of taking her to the airport, the cab dropped her in front of her new home.

Catherine had been watching her ever expanding waistline. She’d been worried that someone at the office would suspect what was going on before her last day.

By the end of July, when she left the DA’s office, she was only a little more than two months; she shouldn’t have really been showing yet, but even Peter said that she looked more like four months along. He thought she might be having twins. He’d done an ultrasound, and said that there was only one, but the fetus actually appeared to be closer to four months, and he was able to tell her it was a boy.

“Well, he is Vincent’s son,” she said as they both looked at the images.

“He is. And something tells me that we’d better have that basement room ready early, just in case.”

At her three-month checkup, Peter said she looked closer to five months along. He did another ultrasound and this time they were able to see more details.

“There’s a good profile if his face,” he said as he pointed to the monitor. “It doesn’t look like he has much of his father’s bone structure.” There was a technician in the room doing the actual ultrasound, so he had to be careful what he said. He also pointed to the hand visible on the monitor, but didn’t say anything. He pushed a button on the machine and it whirred. “I think we’ve got some good pictures. Finish up and I’ll see you in my office when you’re ready.”

When Catherine walked into the office a little while later, Peter was studying the printed picture of the ultrasound. He held it out to her.

“No, give it to Vincent next time you see him. Tell him the same thing you told me.”

“You’re sure?”

“Absolutely. I’m not going to let him forget us.”

“I doubt that he could do that, even if he wanted to.”

“Do you have an adjusted due date?” she asked as she made herself comfortable in a chair.

“I’m just guessing here, but from the accelerated rate of growth, I’m thinking somewhere around the beginning of December. We’ll have a better idea as the time gets closer.”

Catherine took out her planner and noted the date.

“Looks like I’ll need to get my Christmas shopping done early this year.”

When she got home that afternoon she went straight up to her bedroom and changed clothes. Her father had put in an elevator, but she was determined to use the stairs as much as possible, for the exercise.

She headed back downstairs to the kitchen to fix herself some lunch and was shocked to find Mouse standing at the counter tinkering with one of his gadgets.

“Good grief, you startled me, Mouse. What are you doing here?”

“Visit. And bringing this,” he told her succinctly.

“Well, it’s lovely to see you, but what is that?”

“Phone. Peter told Mouse that you were having a baby and that Father and Mary were going to help. Mouse decided to fix something so you can let Father know when he is needed.”

She stepped around him and got a better look at what he was fiddling with. It looked like an old-fashioned phone sitting on top of a bulky, metal box, and it was all encased in olive drab canvas.

“What kind of phone is that?” she asked.

“Cullen called it a field phone. Like the Army uses. Mouse strung a wire from Father’s study to your kitchen. Got one of these at both ends. You pick up the phone part, then crank this little wheel and it rings in Father’s study. Father can call you the same way.”

“From Father’s study to here. How?”

“Opened threshold in your basement. Peter told me where you live, and I started looking at the maps. Old utility access tunnel runs under the street right by your basement. Put in false wall, looks just like the rest of the wall. It’s right next to your washing machine. If you want to open it, all you have to do is pull the new pipe that’s next to the one the washing machine drains into.”

When did you do all this?” she asked incredulously.

“Started before you moved in. Finished it last night, but it was late. Didn’t want to wake you up to show you then. Figured I could show you when I brought the phone.”

Catherine eyed the phone sitting on the end of the counter closest to the basement door. The wire ran neatly down the side of the counter in the corner and around the doorjamb at the floor. She hoped the rest of it was just as neat. She wouldn’t want to trip on it. It looked out of place, but she had to admit that it was a good idea.

“OK, so show me the threshold and how to open it.”

She followed Mouse down the stairs and across to the front of the house where the laundry room was. The basement walls were cement block that had been plastered over to give it a nicer finish. Whoever had done the plasterwork had indented a line from the ceiling down to the floor every three feet. The dryer was in the corner and the washer was right next to it. A long counter had been built next to that. Catherine noticed that there was a new pipe next to the washing machine’s drain, and the counter had been cut and hinged. Mouse showed her how to pull the pipe toward her and a three-foot-wide section of the wall swung open into the tunnel behind the wall. Mouse lifted the counter and let it lay flat on the counter next to it.

“That’s ingenious, Mouse,” she said with a shake of her head. “Is there a way to open it from the other side?”

“Piece that looks like part of the house foundation. Just push it up. Just have to stand to one side so door doesn’t hit you.”

“This will be great when Father and Mary come up. And it will help out if I want to send things Below. Thank you, mouse.”

Mouse grinned. “Make it easier for Vincent to visit too,” he informed her.

“Well, Vincent isn’t visiting me anymore, Mouse.”

“Catherine’s mad at Vincent?”

“A little, but he’s also mad at me.”

Mouse was obviously having trouble with that concept.

“But Vincent loves Catherine. He told Mouse. Said that it was the beginning of a new life and the end of his aloneness.”

“It was for me too, Mouse, but we disagreed on something extremely important, and we just can’t seem to fix it.” She didn’t even know if Vincent wanted to fix it, but then his fix for the situation was not in the realm of her possibilities. “So, does Father know about this?” She gestured at the door.

“Father told Mouse to do it,” he told her.

“Good, I wouldn’t want you to get into trouble. How about the route, is it clearly marked?”

“You turn left on the other side of this door. No other tunnels for a long way. Then first tunnel you reach, turn right to go to dining chamber, turn left to go to Study. Easy.”

Mouse was gone as soon as he was sure Catherine knew how to use the phone and the door. The door swung closed behind him and she went back up to the kitchen to fix her lunch.

' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' '

Vincent was back to doing all his normal duties, but where he used to go above to visit Catherine or wander the city after his nightly patrol, his wandering was now done Below. He would frequently wander lost in thought; lost in his memories or more often wracking his brain trying to remember the things he’d forgotten. After hours of walking he’d finally force himself to awareness of his surroundings and head for home.

He was very surprised one night when he found himself at the mouth of the cave where Catherine had saved his life. He started to turn around and head home when something compelled him to enter. In the confusion of getting him out of the cave and back home, someone had left a lantern. There was still oil in it so he lit it and used it to light his way.

The cavern was just as he remembered it. And he did remember at least that much. He didn’t know what had gone on there, how he’d gotten there or how he’d gotten back to his chamber, but he did remember being inside the chamber. He remembered the little alcove over to one side, and he remembered crouching there, waiting to die. Hoping, in his more lucid moments, that he’d die before he hurt someone.

He set the lantern down in the middle of the chamber and went to sit in that alcove now. But try as he might, nothing came to him. Not one memory of anything other than just being here, and being very distressed. In fact, being here now was making his head hurt and his eyes burn. He sniffed. There was a strange odor in the air. He couldn’t identify it, but it was probably what was bothering him now. It might have influenced him then. He rose and reached for the lantern. He staggered a bit and kicked the lantern. It hit something when it slid a few inches across the floor. He bent to see what it was. He sifted the sand through his fingers and they came up with a gold chain with a shining crystal suspended from it. Catherine’s crystal. She’d never mentioned losing it. He stared at it for a moment; almost dropped it back into the sand, but he put it in his pocket and made his way slowly back to his chamber.   

' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' '

Once Catherine was settled in her new home, the days crawled by. There was just so much shopping for the baby she could do from catalogs. She didn’t go out much; she didn’t want to run into anyone she knew.

She didn’t listen to music often because most of it reminded her of Vincent. She started reading more modern novels because they weren’t the books she and Vincent had read together. She watched TV and movies on tape because that was something she and Vincent didn’t do together. She went out of her way not to do things that reminded her of Vincent, but no matter what, she carried one reminder with her all the time.

At night she lay in bed, rubbed her belly and talked to the baby there. She tried out different names and eventually settled on Jacob Charles Chandler. She’d thought about Charles Jacob, but disliked the nicknames that Charles often got shortened to. Her dad had never been called Chuck and only his family ever called him Charlie. Jacob was a good, solid name, and Jake wasn’t bad as a shortened version.

She would lay there and tell Jacob about his father. She told him that she hoped that he would meet him some day.

' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' '

One day in the middle of November Mouse paid another visit. This time he was carrying a large parcel, wrapped in brown paper and tied with string. It was taller than he was, but obviously not very heavy.

“What’s that?” she asked him after he’d carefully carried it up the basement stairs and leaned it against the wall in the kitchen.

“Painting. The one of you and Vincent that was hanging in Vincent’s chamber. He took it down, wrapped it and took it to a storage chamber. Mouse was afraid that mice might get it, or it would get wet… that chamber flooded last spring. Brought it to you to keep it safe.”

“Kristopher’s painting?” She was shocked that he’d taken it down. “Of course I’ll keep it here. In fact, there’s a wall in my bedroom where I can hang it. I’ve been looking for a full-length mirror to put there, but this will be even better.”

“Got tools?” asked Mouse.

“What do you need?” she asked going to a drawer and opening it.

“Hammer, nail,” he answered.

“How about a heavy duty picture hanger and a screw driver?” She opened a drawer and took out what she’d mentioned.

“Will work.” He picked up the painting and gestured for her to lead the way.

She led him up to the top floor and pointed out the wall. Mouse patted several pockets and found a metal tape measure. He unwrapped the painting and took some measurements. After he pushed a wooden chair over to the wall he stood on it and started tapping on the wall. He seemed happy with what he found and screwed the hanger into the wall. He tugged on it several times, satisfying himself that it was solid. He stepped off the chair, pushed it to one side then lifted the painting and hung it on the hanger. It was perfectly centered on the wall. He straightened it and stepped back.

“Looks good,” he announced. “Better than Vincent’s wall.”

Catherine had to admit that it did look good. Too good, but it would be a good way to introduce her son to his father. She also noticed that she’d inadvertently matched the predominant color in her bedspread to the color of the dress in the painting. She’d fallen in love with the bedspread when she’d seen it in a shop window over a year ago. It was a handmade patchwork quilt, made out of pieces of velvet. The edging and backing was the same color velvet as the dress. The pillow shams were also backed and edged with the same fabric. It had been one of a kind and it was a king sized quilt. She’d never used it in her apartment because her bed was only a queen. She’d themed the whole master bedroom around that quilt with the drapes, upholstery, carpet and even the walls picking up colors from it. The room was designed to be relaxing and pleasing and the painting fit as if she’d always intended it to be there.

' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' '

Father and Mary made their first visit the Saturday after Thanksgiving. Peter had visited several times, and Mouse had been there twice, but she hadn’t had any other visitors. She was happy to see them.

Catherine had just come into the kitchen to make herself some tea and a snack when they tapped on the door from the basement. She greeted them with hugs and tried to get them to go into the living room while she prepared the tea, but Father made himself comfortable at the kitchen table while Mary helped her.

“Catherine, my dear. We are not special guests. We are your friends and we don’t need any special treatment,” Father said as he sat down.

Catherine laughed. “I haven’t had many guests since I moved in here,” she admitted. “I’m even glad to see Mouse when he rushes through like a hurricane.”

“Have you been out at all, Catherine,” Mary asked.

“A little. I walk around the neighborhood for exercise; I just try keep to places where I won’t run into anyone I know. I’ve done a little shopping for the baby, and while the weather was still warm I spent time out in the yard in the back. I had a little garden. And there is a roof garden too. There’s a miniature atrium up there, so I can even go up when the weather is cold. But I’ve spent a lot of time here in the house.”

“It’s good that you’re getting exercise,” Mary commented. “That’s a mistake a lot of women make. As soon as they find out they are pregnant they sit down and take it easy for the next nine months. As long as you were active before, it’s good to keep exercising while you’re pregnant, just with less intensity. When the muscles are toned, it makes for and easier labor.”

“Peter told me that, and he’s kept me stocked on reading materiel, but I don’t know if that was the best idea. Now I know all the things that could go wrong.”

“No delivery is ever perfect,” Mary conceded as she carried the teapot to the table, “but true complications aren’t that common.”

“What about all the caesarean sections that are done?” asked Catherine as she followed with the cups and set them out.

Mary poured tea for everyone as Catherine sat down.

“Lazy doctors,” commented Father with a snort, as he picked up the cup in front of him.

“I wouldn’t say that,” said Mary. “Some may be unnecessary, but most of them are because of true emergencies.”

“Were you always a midwife, Mary?” Catherine asked.

“Not exactly, there really wasn’t any such thing, at least not professionally when I went to nursing school. My first assignment when I went to work was in Labor and Delivery assisting the doctors, and I stayed… at least, until circumstances changed and I found my way Below.”

“And she’s been a godsend,” put in Father. “She learned a lot of new techniques Above, and she’s taught me. I never delivered a baby until I came below. I observed some births while I was an intern and later when I was a resident I assisted a few times. I knew I wanted to go into medical research, so I didn’t spend much time or effort on the clinical side, except for surgery. I had a general knowledge, but not the practical.”

“You seem to have picked up a lot of the practical since,” Catherine commented.

“By necessity, I assure you. I had a lot of help from Peter in the beginning, and speaking of Peter, he tells us that your new due date is the first week in December.”

Catherine nodded. “It seems this little one,” she patted her stomach, “is in a hurry.”

“How are you feeling?” asked Mary as she reached over and put her hands on the sides of Catherine’s stomach.

“Tired, I can’t seem to sleep more than a couple hours at a time. I wake up, go use the bathroom, walk around a little then go back to bed and sleep a couple more hours. My back hurts all the time. Peter says I’m doing well with my weight. I’ve gained about 28 pounds, and it all seems to be right here.” She patted her belly again. “My face doesn’t seem to be any fuller, although my ankles are usually swollen by the end of the day.”

“That’s normal,” Mary commented. “If you have a sudden weight gain of more than five pounds you should call Peter or one of us.”

“Peter told me the same thing.”

“Good, and since your date is so close, I’m going to come up next weekend and stay with you.”

“It will be nice to have company,” Catherine told her. “There are two guest rooms, you can take your pick.”

They talked a little more about the preparations and the room in the basement. When they were quiet for a few moments, Catherine asked the question that had been nagging at her for months.

“What did Vincent tell you?” she asked.

Father sighed. “Not much at first. After Peter spoke to him I talked to him. Then he went off by himself for a few days. Not as far off as he usually goes, just to one of the way stations a few levels down. Peter told me everything, at least everything that he knew. When Vincent came back we talked again. I told him that he was being stupid and selfish, but he insisted that he’d never wanted this and that he wasn’t going to have anything to do with bringing another being like himself into this world. You insisted on doing this and he washed his hands of it. I will admit that I feel at least partly responsible.”

“Don’t blame yourself, Father.” Catherine was tired and they could hear it in her voice. “You only did what you did because you love him. You were trying to protect him, and besides, Peter told me that both of you never dreamed that anything like this would ever happen.”

“Yes, but I didn’t have to quite so graphic with my warnings.”

“Did Peter give him that ultrasound picture? It shows that this baby doesn’t seem to share much of Vincent’s physical appearance. We can’t tell about hair until he’s born, or teeth until they come in. Were Vincent’s baby teeth like his permanent ones?”

“You mean the longer canines? Yes, they were a little, but not as long as the permanent ones.”

“How is he?” she asked.

“Fully recovered. He’s gone back to all his normal activities, but I don’t believe he’s been Above. He limits his nocturnal wanderings to walking the perimeter of the inhabited tunnels.”

“He knows I’ve moved?”

“Yes, he knows. It was Mouse who told him.” Father chuckled at the memory. “Mouse was working on opening the threshold, and he was doing his best to keep it a secret. He’d come to me every evening and give me a status report. One evening he was on his way to my study when he ran into Vincent. Mouse had been working all day. He’d just finished the opening from the tunnel into your basement and he was covered with cement dust. Vincent asked him what he was doing, suspecting that he might be doing something he wasn’t supposed to, and Mouse blurted out that he was opening a new threshold. He realized that he shouldn’t have said that, and ran off. Vincent followed him to my study. He overheard Mouse telling me that he’d seen Vincent and accidentally told him about your threshold. He used your name. Vincent had closed the threshold below your apartment building, and he thought that mouse might have reopened that. He demanded to know why, and Mouse told him that I’d told him to do it. That we needed a way to get to your house because we were going to help with the baby. I told him the whole story.”

“So he knows where I am?”

“He did the final safety checks on the tunnel and the door.”

Catherine was disappointed. She’d been telling herself that maybe, just maybe, the reason he hadn’t come to her was that he didn’t know where she was and without the Bond, he couldn’t find her. But he’d known where she was since she moved in.

“Are you all right, my dear?” asked Mary, leaning forward and taking her hand.

“I’ll survive,” she said with a shrug. “Just another hope crushed. I’m getting used to it.”

Mary and Father rose to leave and Catherine walked to the door to the basement with them.

“You don’t need to go downstairs with us,” Mary told her. “You’re tired and you just need to go to bed. I’ll see you next weekend. I’ll probably be here on Saturday afternoon. If you need us or anything before then you just use that contraption that Mouse installed and call us.”

“I will.” Catherine hugged Mary then Father. “Thank you for coming.”

“You just take care of yourself… and my grandson!” Father told her. “Get some rest.”

Catherine didn’t go right to bed. She was tired, but she knew that sleep wouldn’t be easy. She washed the cups and the teapot, then walked through the house making sure the doors were all locked, then she climbed the stairs to her room. She hesitated for a moment then grabbed the sweater that hung by the stairs to the roof and climbed the last flight to the roof.

It was a clear night. She leaned on the wall and looked up at the sky. She identified a few constellations and stood, trying to clear her mind, until the cold got to her and she went back inside.

Sleep didn’t come easily, and when it did, it didn’t last long.

' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' '

Mary arrived on Saturday afternoon, just as she’d promised. Geoffrey was with her, carrying her bag. She found Catherine in the middle of baking cookies and cleaning the kitchen.

“I had a surge of energy and decided to take advantage of it. “I cleaned the bathrooms and the kitchen, I’ve got laundry going, and I thought that homemade cookies sounded good. What do you think?”

“I think you’re nesting,” said Mary with a light laugh.

“Nesting?”

“Yes, it usually happens just before the baby turns and drops. I suspect that you’ll go into labor before the middle of the week.”

Mary was right. Catherine went to bed with a backache on Monday night. She’d had a backache for months, but this was worse. She woke up early Tuesday morning thirsty and went down to the kitchen to get some juice. Her water broke as she was standing at the kitchen counter pouring the juice.

She wasn’t sure what to do at first, she glanced at the clock, it was almost six, and Mary was probably already up. She knew that she wouldn’t have to go up and wake her. She dropped a bunch of paper towels on the puddle and went to the laundry room where she pulled off the wet nightgown and found a towel and dried herself off. She grabbed a clean gown from the stack of clean laundry and pulled it on, then she went out to use the field phone to call Father. She was on the other phone talking to Peter when Mary came down.

As soon as Mary walked into the kitchen, she knew what was happening. When Catherine hung up the phone she turned to Mary.

“Peter said he’ll be here in about an hour, and Father is on his way. He said he’d stop in the kitchen and bring breakfast for everyone.”

Mary made Catherine sit down while she cleaned up. Then she made a pot of tea and joined her at the table.

“Why did you decide to set up the birthing room in the basement?” she asked as she joined Catherine at the table.

“This house shares walls with the houses on both sides. They are supposed to be fire walls, and I haven’t heard anything from the neighbors on either side, but I just want to make sure that they didn’t hear me, just in case I get… loud. I would hate to have them call the police to report a screaming woman, and have the police break in here in the middle of everything.”

“That makes sense,” agreed Mary. “Have you had any contractions?”

“A little,” Catherine told her. “Feels like mild menstrual cramps and it’s almost constant.”

“We can take our time. You finish your tea and relax. We’ll all get some breakfast, then we can go downstairs and see how things are progressing.”

' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' '

Vincent was sitting on the side of his bed when Father entered his chamber.

“You’re up,” father said, stating the obvious.

“As are you,” said Vincent, noticing that Father was carrying his battered medical bag.

“I am. Catherine called. Her water just broke; she’s in labor. Your son will be born soon. Would you like to be with her for the event?”

“We’ve been over this, Father.” Vincent rose and went to his bureau and started pulling out clothes for the day. “Catherine… they are both better off without me.”

“But if the child is like you?”

“Peter said that it doesn’t look like there is much chance of that, and if it did happen, Catherine is quite capable of handling anything.”

Father shook his head. “I still think you should be there.”

“I doubt that Catherine would welcome my presence at this point.”

“Well, if you change your mind, you know where I am. I will probably be there all day. This is a first child so it could take some time.”

Father turned and started to leave, then turned back to Vincent.

“Have you ever considered what it means if the child isn’t like you?” he asked.

“He’s lucky?” Vincent said in a slightly sarcastic tone.

Father ignored the tone.

“I’m serious, Vincent!”

“So am I! What are you trying to say?”

“I’m trying to say that if this child is not like you, it proves that I was wrong… The less like you, he is, the more human you are. I know I always told you that only part of you is a man, but as time goes by I’m beginning to agree with Catherine: You are the best part of what it is to be human. I honestly do not understand why you are acting like this.”

Father didn’t wait for Vincent to comment. He turned and left the chamber. Vincent stood for a moment then tossed his jeans on the bed and dropped into his chair. He was up because something had awakened him about thirty minutes before Father came in. He wasn’t sure what it was. At first he thought someone was outside his chamber pounding on something, but once he was completely awake he realized it was coming from inside him. It was like a heartbeat, but it wasn’t his. At first he thought it might be Catherine’s, but it didn’t seem right. It felt different from the Bond he’d had with her. It was only the heartbeat and nothing else. Sometimes it seemed to be louder and faster, but most of the time is was just steady and much faster than what he’d been used to sensing from Catherine.

He finally gave up trying to figure it out and got dressed. He had a class in two hours, and he still needed to get some breakfast and go over the chapters for today.

' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' '

As far as Catherine was concerned things were progressing at a snail’s pace. The morning passed. The contractions did get stronger, and more frequent, but nothing unbearable. She sat in the chair in the room, she got up and walked up and down the hall outside, she drank water, tea and juice, but by two in the afternoon she was tired and wanted it to be done. Mary said that it would be a while yet.

“Why don’t you try to take a nap?” Mary suggested. “I’ll be right here if you need me.” Father and Peter had gone upstairs to get some lunch and she just knew that they were probably playing chess.

Catherine dozed off, and Mary heard a sound in the hall outside and thinking it was Peter or Father, went to give them an update.

She was surprised to see Vincent standing inside the door from the tunnel.

She hurried to him.

“It’s about time you showed up!” she whispered when she reached his side. “Better late than never, I always say.”

“I just came to find out how she is. Father stopped in my chamber on his way here and told me.”

“She is doing just fine, but she’d be doing much better if she had a good coach,” Mary hinted broadly, “or someone with warm hands to rub her back.”

“I can’t, Mary. I just want to know that she’s all right.”

Mary sighed. “So far so good. She’s progressing normally. She’s resting now. Her contractions are fairly close together, but they aren’t very strong yet. I expect they will strengthen soon, and that your son will be born before eight this evening.”

“Catherine’s son, Mary,” he corrected. “He’s her son.”

He turned and walked away from her, but he didn’t leave the basement. When she went back into the room, she pushed the door almost closed, but she could still hear him pacing back and forth in the hallway.

When Peter and Father came back down an hour later she heard them speaking quietly to Vincent.

Catherine heard Mary speaking to Vincent, and she’d heard his answer. It hurt, but it was about what she expected. To be honest she hadn’t even expected him to come anywhere near her ever again. She didn’t mention to anyone what she knew that Vincent was there, and no one mentioned to her that he was.

Catherine’s contractions were starting to get stronger and more frequent when Lena entered the basement from the tunnels. She didn’t speak to Vincent as she passed him, but the look she gave him said a lot. She hadn’t spoken to him unless necessary since she’d found out about Catherine.

She went into the room and closed the door behind her. She was there to help. She’d been apprenticing with Mary for almost a year.

' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' '

Catherine’s son was born at 6:47pm, a little more than twelve hours after her water broke. He weighed 5 pounds 15 ounces, and was 18½ inches long. Lena tended to the baby, giving Catherine a play by play as she gave him his first bath, and Mary tended to Catherine. Both Father and Peter joked that they hadn’t even been needed.

Vincent, who was still in the hall, slid down the wall, and rested his forehead on his drawn up knees. He could hear what Lena was saying, and he heard Father and Peter’s verdict as they examined the newborn. Finally, he heard Catherine’s voice when her son was finally given back to her. She hadn’t made a sound through the whole process.

Father and Peter left the room a little while later.

Father leaned over and put his hand on Vincent’s shoulder.

“Are you all right?” he whispered.

Vincent looked up and Father saw tears on his face. “I’m fine. Are you leaving?”

“No, not yet. Peter and I will stay for a while.”

“How is she?”

“She’s fine,” Peter assured him. “She’s tired, naturally, but she will be up and about in a few hours, no doubt.”

Vincent just nodded then watched the two men go up the basement stairs to the kitchen then he put his head back down on his knees.

He didn’t think he could move. Now he was calm again he probed the feeling, the Bond that had been building all day. He could still feel something like a heartbeat, but it wasn’t Catherine’s; it was much faster. It must be the baby’s.  

When Mary left the room she stopped and asked the same question that Father had, and he gave her the same answer.

“Lena is going to stay with her while I go up and get something to eat and take a nap. We will take turns sitting with her until morning… that is, unless you want to take over.”

He didn’t speak, he just shook his head.

Mary sighed and left him.

He was still sitting like that later when Lena came out of the room carrying a bundle. He thought at first she was taking a load of laundry down the hall to the washing machine, but she stopped in front of him.

“Would you like to hold your son?” she asked. She didn’t wait for an answer, she just leaned down and put the bundle into his lap. His arms instinctively came up. She turned and went back into the room, leaving him sitting on the floor with his legs stretched out in front of him and the quiet bundle in his lap.

He pushed the corner of the receiving blanket away from the baby’s face and was surprised to see that he was awake. They stared at each other for several minutes. His face was perfect. There was no way to tell what color his eyes would be, and his mouth and nose were perfect miniatures of Catherine’s. Then Vincent began a closer inspection. He peeled back more of the blanket to find the baby’s hands. The fingers that wrapped around his were long, but his nails looked normal. He pulled the blanket away from his feet and found ordinary baby feet.

He drew his legs up a little and turned the baby so that he stretched out along his thighs. He continued to look. His ears were normal, nothing like his, and there wasn’t a bit of extra hair on his body anywhere. There wasn’t even much hair on his head, but what there was, was reddish gold. That was the only resemblance that he could find to himself.

He wrapped the baby back up in his blankets and lifted him so that he rested against his shoulder. He kissed the soft cheek and let his tears fall. He was normal, he could live Above and no one would ever know who his father was.

His tears had dried when Lena came back into the hall.

“She’ll be awake soon, and he’s going to be hungry,” she said.

Vincent stood and handed the baby back to her.

“Did she say what she named him?” he asked.

“No, but she asked Father if she could bring him Below for a naming ceremony. I guess we will find out then.”

She turned to go.

“Thank you, Lena,” he called after her.

When she turned back to speak, he was gone and the door from the tunnel, which had stood open all day, was closing.

Vincent went back to his chamber and dropped into the chair at the table. He automatically reached for his journal, but when he opened it and uncapped the pen, he had no words.

He was still sitting there several hours later when Father walked in. Vincent still hadn’t written anything.

Father wasn’t in any mood to mince words.

“I was surprised to see you at Catherine’s earlier, but I was disappointed that you stayed in the hall. Catherine could have used your support.”

“I had to be there,” he admitted, “but she didn’t need me. I am nothing but a reminder.”

“What do you think that beautiful baby boy is, if not a reminder?” Father retorted. “A reminder of the love she has for you, the love you two share.”

“You need to put that in the past tense, Father… the love we shared. It’s no longer part of that equation.”

“I swear you are one of the most obstinate…” His voice trailed off and Father just shook his head and walked out. “No matter what, I consider that child my grandson, and I hope that you don’t think that I’m going to forgo seeing him and spending time with him just to spare your feelings,” he shot back over his shoulder.

It was Vincent’s turn to shake his head, just before he picked up his journal and threw it across the chamber.

' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' '

Catherine had plenty of help over the next few weeks. She went back to her bedroom the next day, and Jacob was installed in a bassinet in her room. She had everything she needed there. And when she went downstairs during the day, he was with her in a portable crib.

Father suggested that the naming ceremony be in the afternoon before Winterfest and Catherine agreed. A few Helpers came early for the ceremony, but it was mostly her friends Below who gathered in Father’s Study.

Vincent was conspicuous by his absence. No one knew that he was standing in the shadows on the upper level. No one but Catherine.

“It has been said that the child is the meaning of this life. Today, we celebrate the child. This new life that has been brought into our world. We welcome the child with love, that he may be able to love; we welcome the child with gifts, that he may learn generosity; and we welcome the child with a name…” Father looked at Catherine as she stood beside him.

“His name is Jacob Charles, after his grandfathers,” she said as she looked up toward a shadow on the upper level. “And just so that he doesn’t become Baby Jacob, and remain that until he’s forty… I intend to call him Jake.” She turned toward Father and smiled as everyone else laughed.

“I’m sorry, but I just had to add that. My dad had a nephew who was named after him. Since Daddy’s family called him Charlie, his nephew became Charlie Boy. He hates it and I didn’t want Jake to suffer a similar fate.

Father laughed too. “Very few people call me by my given name,” he reminded her. “They usually have to say it more than once to get my attention.”

There as a small reception after the ceremony and Jake spent the next hour being passed from one woman to the next.

“Will you be staying for Winterfest?” Mary asked her. “You can leave Jacob in the nursery.”

“No, I don’t think so Mary.” She smiled wearily at Mary. “This little guy is demanding and I must feed him every four hours. I haven’t been getting a lot of sleep at night because of that.”

“I understand.”

Mary hugged her then called several of the children over to her.

“Catherine needs help carrying her bag and all the gifts home. You help her then come right back here; William has some things that need to be taken down to the Great Hall.”

Kipper, Geoffrey, Samantha, and Eric helped Catherine get everything back to her kitchen and were rewarded with bag a fruit to take back with them.

“If you need a babysitter,” Samantha called back over her shoulder as they descended the stairs, “I’m available.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Catherine called after her.

After the children carried everything up to the nursery for her, Catherine set about unwrapping everything. There was a beautiful handmade quilt from Mary. It was big enough that it could be used on a twin bed once Jake was big enough to use one. Catherine folded it over the end of the crib. Father had given a stack of picture books. William had written out all his homemade baby food recipes in a notebook. Most of the gifts were typical baby gifts, but just the tunnel versions. There were even babysitting vouchers from Brooke and Jamie. She carefully made a list of the gifts so she could write Thank You notes later. The last package she opened didn’t have a tag and she wasn’t sure who it was from, but as soon as she opened it she knew.

Vincent had given his son one of his most prized possessions: a toy carousel he’d had since he was a child. Catherine had only seen it once or twice when Vincent had been hunting for something in a chest he kept in his chamber. She been able to tell by the way he’d handled it that it meant a lot to him.

' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' '

Catherine and Jacob settled into a routine and when Peter came over for Christmas dinner he and Catherine laid out a plan for the next few years.

“I did all the blood tests that I told you about,” he told her as he handed her several sheets of paper. “He’s a perfectly normal baby, with a few minor differences. His blood type is the same as Vincent’s.”

“I never thought of that. Is there something unusual about Vincent’s blood?”

“Yes and no. We ascertained years ago that Vincent’s blood is O+, but with a few differences. All those notes that you brought back from that professor who kidnapped him a couple years ago just backed up our findings. His blood is more highly oxygenated for one thing. You are A+. Jake is O+, but he shares a few other characteristics with Vincent.”

“So, if Vincent needed a transfusion, he could only get O+, right?”

“That’s right. Type O+ is the universal donor, but they can only get type O+, but because Vincent is Below and it would be difficult for even me to get whole blood for him, Jacob stock’s some of Vincent’s own blood, just in case. It can’t be stored much longer than a month, so Father takes a pint every thirty days. He also types everyone Below who agrees to it. That way if anyone needs a transfusion, he knows who is compatible.”

“Are you saying that we’re going to have to do the same thing for Jake?” she asked.

“I don’t think so. I don’t really anticipate any problems if he should ever need blood in an emergency. I’m more concerned at the moment about the normal childhood immunizations. I see to it that all the children Below get their shots and we were going to do the same thing for Vincent, but he had a reaction to the first one we gave him, and we didn’t continue with them. Now, he’s got an immune system that won’t stop. He’s never caught anything like the flu or a cold, or any of the other things that go around. He wasn’t vaccinated against plague, but he cared for the sick right along with you and Father who had both been vaccinated, and he didn’t get sick. I don’t think he’s even had so much as an upset stomach, not even when he was a child. So he obviously didn’t need the immunizations. Hopefully, Jake will take after his father in that respect.”

“OK, so we won’t do the shots. What about when he starts school and I have to have proof that he’s had them?”

“We’ve got five years to figure that out,” Peter said with a smile. “I can just say that he had them and give you the paperwork, or we can say that he has allergies and can’t take them. We will have to play this by ear.”

“Or I could home school,” she suggested.

“Like I said, you don’t have to make that decision now. For now, when you bring him in to the office, we will do all the usual things, we will just skip the shots.”

“What if he does get sick? Vincent told me that a lot of the drugs in Father’s arsenal don’t work on him.”

“That is mostly the pain killers and sedatives. We have to be careful what we use. I’ll admit to having bought a Veterinary Manual years ago, just in case. But Vincent seems to be immune to even diseases that would affect felines. He helped nurse a Helper’s cat through distemper when he was about twelve. Father was worried, but he didn’t catch it, so we decided then that it wasn’t an issue. The manual has been helpful when choosing drugs though. He hasn’t had much of an issue with infection, but we know what antibiotics work best on him if they are needed. We’ve also found a sedative that works. Father keeps some on hand. I’ll just use what we’ve learned from Vincent as a guide when it comes to Jake.”

' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' '

After New Year’s Catherine called Jenny to tell her that she was back in town.

“So how are you feeling?” Jenny asked.

“Actually quite well, and I have a confession to make.”

“What, you weren’t at some health resort, but you were on an extended honeymoon?” Jenny asked with a laugh.

“And just who did I marry, Miss Psychic?” Catherine asked her.

“Damned if I know. Elliot Burch maybe?”

It was Catherine’s turn to laugh.

“No Jenny, I didn’t get married. I was out of town, and it was for my health…” She’d decided to keep up that part of the story. “… but not the reasons I told everyone. I was pregnant, and there were a few complications, so I went somewhere that specializes in difficult pregnancies.”

The other end of the line was silent.

“Jenn, are you still there?”

“Are you OK? And the baby?”

“We are both fine. They took exceptionally good care of us and we came through it like champs. No complications and a relatively easy labor and delivery. Only twelve or so hours.”

“I don’t know what to say.” She could tell from Jenny’s voice that she was stunned. Speechlessness was something that Jenny didn’t often suffer from.

“Say you’ll come visit! I want to introduce you to my son.”

“Absolutely! Is this evening too soon?”

“No, come for dinner and I’ll order Chinese.”

“OK, I’ll see you in a few hours.”

“Wait, don’t hang up! I forgot to tell you that I moved. I had it all taken care of while I was gone.” She gave the address to Jenny. “I’ll see you later.”

Catherine had just finished feeding Jake and had put him in the portable crib in the kitchen when the doorbell rang. It was the delivery boy from Henry Pei’s restaurant and while she was paying him Jenny walked up. She took half the bags and followed Catherine to the kitchen. They put down their packages and Jenny pulled her best friend into a fierce hug.

“I know we sometimes go months without seeing each other, but I really missed you this time! Just knowing that you were out of town bothered me.”

“I missed you too Jenn.” As she said it she realized that she really had. “I wish I’d taken you into my confidence before I left. It would have been nice to have someone to talk to about it.”

“Speaking of which, why didn’t you tell anyone you were pregnant. When I spoke to Joe he said you’d told him the same thing you told me, that you had to take care of a health issue.”

Catherine waved Jenny into a chair, then proceeded to set the table and set out the food as she talked.

“My son’s father has some… genetic issues,” she explained. “He was worried that he would pass that on to any child he might father, and he tried to talk me into an abortion. When I refused, he was upset, and we stopped seeing each other. Those genetic issues were my reason for wanting to have the best obstetric care available, and the fact that his father and I weren’t seeing each other any longer was my reason for looking to get out of town for a while.” She sat down across from Jenny. “It all turned out. Jacob is fine, perfectly normal and healthy.”

“So you and his father will be getting back together?” Jenny asked.

“Not likely,” Catherine answered. “This is something that Vincent never wanted. He took great pains and went to great lengths never to father a child.”

“So that’s his name… What happened? Did the condom break?”

“Nothing quite so normal. Vincent had sworn to never have sex, but he hadn’t counted on ever meeting someone and falling in love, much less having her fall in love with him.”

“What is he, a priest?”

“No, but he did live rather like a monk. He takes care of everyone around him, but he never paid much attention to his own needs. He’d been sick, and I guess his will power was at a low ebb or something. It just… happened. I was happy about it, but after he recovered from his illness he didn’t even remember that it happened.”

“Oh God, now that had to have taken the wind out of your sails a bit.”

“I’d kind of decided to ignore it, then I found out that I was pregnant. I had to tell him. That was when he told me that he wanted me to terminate the pregnancy and I refused. I haven’t seen him since.”

Jenny noticed the tears gathering in her friend’s eyes.

“Sounds to me like he’s not worth crying over,” she commented.

“He is, but I’ve shed enough tears. I’ve got Jake and he’s what is important now.” She got up and went to the small crib and picked up her sleeping son. She carried him back to Jenny who held out her arms for him.

“This is Jacob Charles Chandler.”

“Come meet Aunt Jenny, mein kleiner Junge.”

Catherine smiled at Jenny’s habit of slipping into the German she’d learned from her maternal grandmother when she got emotional.

Their dinner had cooled by the time Jenny finally relinquished Jake back to his mother. Catherine warmed everything in the microwave then they sat down to eat.

“OK, so I know where you got the Charles, but where did Jacob come from?” Jenny asked.

“His other grandfather.”

“Why not give him Charles for a first name?”

Catherine explained her reasons and Jenny had to laugh.

“Charlie Boy? Poor guy. How old is he?”

“Over fifty, and most of the family still refers to Daddy as Charlie, and his nephew as Charlie Boy.”

“You’re sure that Vincent’s family won’t give him some silly nickname?”

“They aren’t big on nicknames in that family, but since one of their friend’s named her daughter Catherine, and she was beginning to become known as Baby Catherine, I was afraid that the same thing would happen to Jake, so I made sure I told everyone that I would be calling him Jake.”

“Surely Baby Catherine’s mother doesn’t call her that.”

“No, she calls her Catie.”

Their conversation continued through the evening, with only time out to tend to Jake’s needs: feeding, clean diaper, snuggles and kisses.

Jenny left around eleven, with promises to visit again soon.

Catherine’s next hurdle was Nancy. She called her early the next morning and Nancy was on the train down from Westport the following Sunday.

Elliot was out of town, so Catherine opted to send him a formal birth announcement when she sent them out to her other friends.

Joe was the last on her list. Not because he mattered least, but because she knew that he’d be the most surprised, and possibly upset.

She called him, and told him that she was back home. After he asked about her health, he joked and asked when she was coming back to work. She ignored the question and invited him over to visit. She gave him her new address and he promised he’d be there on Saturday.

She answered the door with Jacob in her arms when Joe arrived.

“You babysitting, Radcliffe?” he asked as he hugged her awkwardly around the baby.

“No Joe. This is Jacob. He was my reason for quitting work and dropping out of sight for a while.”

Joe looked confused for a moment, then it hit him and he sat down on the sofa rather abruptly.

“He’s yours?” he asked.

“Yes. He was born on December 5^th.”

“That guy you told me about?” he asked.

“Yes, that guy’s name is Vincent.”

“Is he here with you?”

“No Joe, he’s not.” She went on to tell him the same story that she’d told Jenny and Nancy.

“That sorry…”

“It’s OK, Joe. Believe me, I’ve called him a few names in the last few months too. But his fears were legitimate. There was a possibility that Jacob could have inherited some very… limiting… traits from him. He didn’t, but that is beside the point. I understand where he was coming from, but I didn’t agree with his solution. We parted company over that. It hurt, it still does, but it all turned out well. Jacob is healthy, and we are going to be just fine.”

She’d expected Joe to be protective and his reaction to Vincent’s behavior hadn’t been that much of a surprise.

Joe had nieces, several of them, so he was no stranger to babies and he was soon sitting with Jacob in his arms telling him how he was going to take him to baseball games, and football games, and hockey games. None of those silly, girly games like soccer. He had Catherine laughing more heartily than she had in a long time, and when he left a couple hours later, her mental outlook was better than it had been in months.

When Joe called her a few days later and invited her to dinner with his family at his mom’s on Sunday she was surprised.

“Dinner with your family, Joe? I don’t know. I don’t have a babysitter…”

“You don’t need a babysitter. Mom’s house is kid friendly. She’s got three granddaughters under the age of six. Everyone will love meeting Jake.”

“I haven’t been out with him yet, at least not any place but the doctor’s office.”

“Look, I’ve still got the baby seat for my car that I used for all three of my nieces, I’ll pick you up at one. Mom serves dinner at three.”

“All right, Joe. It’s been a while since I’ve been out in polite company,” she said with a laugh. “What should I wear?”

“Casual. Whatever you’re comfortable in.”

Catherine wasn’t sure if this was a good idea. She hoped that this wasn’t anything more than a friendly gesture.

' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' '

Joe arrived at Catherine’s a few minutes before one. She’d just finished packing everything she needed into the diaper bag. She let Joe in and went to the closet for her coat.

“I never realized how much gear is needed to take a 3 month old on a short trip.”

Joe picked the bag. He was surprised by the weight.

“What have you got in here?”

“Diapers, wipes, powder, diaper rash cream, extra clothes, a blanket, burp cloths…”

“Giant economy sizes of everything and his whole wardrobe, from the way it feels. You go get Jake and I’ll take this out to the car. I’m double parked and there’s only so much that the DA’s office sticker lets me get away with.”

Catherine got Jake from the crib in the living room and followed Joe out to the street. While Joe was putting Jake into the car seat and buckling him in she went back for her purse and to lock the door.

She watched as Joe secured the last buckle.

“I guess I should get one of those,” she said as she climbed into the front seat and Joe closed the door behind her.

“You don’t have one? What do you do in the car?”

“I don’t currently have one. I sold mine last summer and haven’t replaced it yet. The times I’ve taken Jake out to the doctor’s office I took a cab.”

“You need one. It’s even handy when you go inside somewhere, because you can leave him in it and you won’t have to hold him the whole time.”

Joe’s Mom lived on Long Island. It took a little while to get there, but traffic was light and Jake slept all the way.

In the excitement of getting Jake and all his things into the house Catherine heard all the names of the people she was meeting, but she wasn’t sure who they went with. After she took off her coat she turned to the person holding Jake and was surprised to see it was Jenny.

“Jenn, what are you doing here?”

Jenny looked at Joe.

“You didn’t tell her?” she asked him.

“You saw her before I did. Why didn’t you tell her?” he asked with a grin.

“Tell me what?”

“Joe called me right after you left. You’d left a couple things in your desk and he wanted to know if I had any idea where he should send them. I didn’t, but I said I’d come by and pick them up. We went to lunch that day…”

“And dinner the following Friday night.”

“And they’ve been dating ever since,” finished one of Joe’s sisters.

“Why didn’t either of you tell me? That’s wonderful!” She hugged Jenny. “Thank God, I was worried that he was asking me here because he was interested in me!” she whispered into Jenny’s ear.

That made Jenny laugh. “He’s not all that bad, Cath,” she whispered back. “In fact, I think I kinda like him. He might be a keeper.”

Catherine eventually got all the names sorted out. Joe’s mom was Angela. Joe was the oldest, and his sisters were two and five years younger than him. The oldest was Elise after his father’s mother and the younger was Giada after his mother’s mother. Elise’s husband was Ben and their two daughters were five-year-old Ana and three-year-old Tia. Giada was married to Andrew and their daughter was one-year-old Lindsey.

Dinner was an interesting affair. Angela appeared to be prepared. She had a long table in her dining room with chairs at the ends and benches on the sides, and there was a definite seating arrangement. Joe sat at one end with Jenny on his right and Catherine on his left. Elise and Ben sat on the right bench with Tia between them and Ana between Elise and Angela who sat at the other end of the table. Giada and Andrew sat on the side with Catherine with Lindsey in a high chair between Giada and Angela. Jacob slept soundly in a baby seat on the floor where Catherine could see him.

Everyone sat down, even the children were quiet. They all joined hands and Angela said grace. As soon as the Amen echoed around the table chaos prevailed. There were at least four different conversations going on, parents trying to help children with their food. Bowls and platters were passed and Catherine tried to sample everything. It all looked and smelled delicious. She recognized everything except one casserole that was made with potatoes, turnips, leeks, herbs and meat. It smelled good but she couldn’t identify the meat.

“What is this, Joe? It’s delicious,” she asked.

“Dad called it stovies with lamb. Grandma Maxwell taught Mom how to make it.”

“Isn’t that Scottish?” she asked, puzzled.

“Yeah, you didn’t know that dad was a born in Scotland? He came here with his parents when he was just a baby.”

“I thought you were Italian,” she said with a laugh.

“I am, at least my mom is. Mom and Dad met when they were going to a Catholic elementary school. They didn’t see much of each other once they started high school since Mom went to an all-girls school and Dad went to an all-boys school. They saw each other at church and at dances that were sponsored by their schools, and that was about it. Dad was drafted almost as soon as he graduated from high school, and mom went to secretarial school. They started writing while he was gone and when he came home two years later he asked her to marry him. Mom’s family thought it was too quick, so they insisted on a long engagement. Over the next year dad went to the Police Academy, joined the NYPD and had a decent job by the time Mom’s family decided that he’d do. They were both 21 when they got married. I was born five years later, then Elise and finally Giada.”

“Your mom was still young when your dad died. She never remarried.”

“She always said that she did it right the first time and that she’d never find anyone who would measure up to Cameron Maxwell, and she wouldn’t settle for second best.”

Catherine looked down the table at the smiling woman at the other end. She understood completely. She was angry at Vincent for the way he’d reacted to her pregnancy, but she still loved him and considered him the only man for her. Maybe someday someone would come along, but she didn’t see it happening any time soon.

The afternoon went quickly and before she knew it, it was dark and everyone was leaving. Angela wanted Joe to stay and help her with a small repair so Jenny drove Catherine home. There were no open parking spots and Jenny let her out at the curb.

“I’ll call you and we’ll go to lunch,” Jenny said as Catherine lifted Jake out of the car seat.

“And you’ll have to fill me in about you and Joe!” Catherine insisted.

“Do you have a babysitter?”

“I’ve got a few prospects,” she said, remembering the baby sitting vouchers and offers. Samantha was too young, but maybe she and Brooke?  

' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' '

Jake’s first year sailed by. Before Catherine knew it, they were celebrating his first birthday. She was planning a small party and had almost decided to have two, so she could invite people from both Above and Below. She was talking to Mary about it when Mary suggested that the people from Below who would come all had some Above clothes.

“And it would be nice to finally meet your friends Joe and Jenny,” she said.

“You’re sure?”

“Certainly. We’ll just show up half an hour before your other friends, and no one will be wiser.”

A week later on the Saturday after Jake’s birthday, when people from Below started appearing out of the basement, she was surprised to see that they would have fit in just about anywhere. Father wore black slacks, a dark gray turtleneck sweater and a corduroy jacket complete with leather patches on the elbows. Mary a plain burgundy suit, but she’d worn the pretty pink silk blouse that Catherine had given her. The children all looked like any kids. The only one who showed up in his regular clothes was Mouse. But Catherine explained him away as her eccentric handyman.

Jake was enjoying being the center of attention. He was walking and toddled from one to another of his friends. He starting to talk and really was a little ahead of other one year olds, but sometimes he lisped a little. He had a full mouth of teeth complete with the two slightly longer canines. He babbled gleefully all afternoon.

Everyone gathered in the kitchen to watch Jake blow out his candles and cut his cake and the birthday boy was loving it. He and Catherine had been practicing all week on blowing out the candle without spitting all over the cake, but just to be on the safe side she put a large wax candle shaped like the number 1 in a candle holder in front of the cake and moved the cake back far enough to be out of range.

By the time Jake was done with his small piece of cake and scoop of ice cream he was wearing more of it than he’d eaten.

Joe and Jenny were leaving and Catherine walked them to the door to say goodbye. Father and Mary were in the hall putting on coats. They left right behind Jenny and Joe.

After they were all gone, Catherine turned to Peter who was standing behind her.

“Where are Father and Mary going?” she asked.

“Out to dinner… alone. I gave Jacob one of my credit cards and they are going over to that Italian place a few blocks from here. Oh, and I gave them my key to your house so they can get back Below without having to walk far. I hope that’s OK.”

“No, it’s fine. Is there something going on?”

Peter grinned. “Hopefully there will be. Those two have worked so closely together for so long and I don’t think they even realize sometimes that the other is the opposite sex.”

“Maybe Father doesn’t, but Mary does. I’ve seen the way she looks at him.”

“Then I’m not the only one. I’m glad I wasn’t imagining it. I took a chance last week when I was Below and said something about how Mary was a lovely woman, and I wondered if she’d be interested in dinner and a show Above. I had no intention of asking her out, but I wanted to light a fire under Jacob.”

“Did it work?”

“He blustered a bit, then said that Mary had never shown an interest in going Above.”

“Then I asked him if he’d ever asked her. He admitted that he’d never even considered it. And if he had, he had no personal money to take her out. That was when I offered my credit card. He hemmed and hawed for a few minutes then said that he’d ask her. He told me tonight that since they were already Above and dressed appropriately, they’d decided that tonight would be a good night. I suggested the Italian Restaurant and called and made them a reservation. I know the owner and told him that I was sending a friend over with my credit card, so there would be no questions.”

“I hope they have a good time,” said Catherine as they went back to the kitchen to see to her guests needs.

' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' '

Catherine was in the living room reading when Jacob and Mary came in later. She heard them laughing as they entered the living room. She smiled.

“Catherine, we didn’t know you were still up. You weren’t waiting up for us were you?” asked Father.

“No, it’s still early. Not even ten yet. I was just reading. And I left you some cake to take back with you. It’s on the counter.”

“Oh, I can’t even think of any more food,” said Mary with a girlish giggle.

Catherine raised her eyebrows.

“I think we’ve both had a bit too much wine,” commented Father. “And thank you for the cake. You did keep some for yourself, didn’t you?”

“A little. There’s a couple pieces left.”

She got up and walked to the kitchen with them.

“Oh Catherine! It’s been years since I’ve eaten in a restaurant. I’d forgotten how nice it could be. And the food was so good. I had a pasta dish that was wonderful and the tiramisu we had for desert was divine!”

“I’ve been to that place with Peter a few times,” Catherine agreed. “The tiramisu is the best I’ve ever had.”

Once she’d seen Father and Mary through the basement door she went to put the chain on and make sure the front door was locked before she went up to bed.

' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' '

Jake was a bright little boy. Before she knew it he was asking hundreds of questions every day. Sometimes she could answer, and sometimes she couldn’t.

One evening when he was three, they were going through their nightly ritual of reading aloud. She was reading a book that someone had given him. It was about a dad who snored.

“Does my daddy snore?” he asked her after he’d made her demonstrate what snoring was.

“No, he doesn’t,” she said after a second of surprised silence. He’d never asked about his father before. He’d been into her room and had seen the painting and recognized her, but he hadn’t asked about the man in the painting until just a few months ago. He’d asked who it was, and she’d told him. He hadn’t said anything else. Now suddenly he asked a question about his father.

“How do you know?”

“Well, he was sick once, and I helped take care of him. He slept a lot, and I was there, so I know he doesn’t snore.”

“Do you snore?” he asked.

“I don’t know. I’ve never been awake to hear, but Aunt Jenny and I shared a room in college and she never complained. Maybe you should ask her next time you see her.”

“OK,” he said and sat back waiting for her to go on with the story. Obviously he was satisfied with the answer.

' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' '

One morning, a few months later, she woke to find him sitting on the end of her bed staring at the painting.

“Is Daddy wearing a mask?” he asked. He’d worn a mask a few weeks before on Halloween.

“No, that’s how he looks,” she said warily.

“Why?”

She remembered asking as similar question right after she’d first seen him.

“No one knows, Sweetheart. He has some ideas, and so do Grandpa and Uncle Peter, but no one really knows.”

“Doesn’t Grandpa know? Isn’t he Daddy’s daddy?”

“Well, yes he is, but Grandpa is your daddy’s adopted father. That means that no one knows who his mommy and daddy are and Grandpa took him and raised him like he was his own son. Grandpa has another son, Uncle Devin. Do you remember me telling you about him?”

Jake nodded vigorously. “Does he look like daddy?” he asked.

“No, he looks a lot like Grandpa because Grandpa is his real father.”

She hoped that she hadn’t just confused him with the complicated relationships, but Jake seemed to understand more than the average three-year-old.

' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' '

It took Joe three years to convince Jenny to marry him. The night he asked her Jenny called Catherine.

“So what did you say?” Catherine asked after Jenny told her about Joe’s proposal.

“I said I’d think about it?” Jenny answered uncertainly.

“You’d think about it? Have you lost your mind?” asked Catherine when she got done laughing. “Aside from some of his eating habits, Joe is a great guy and he’s perfect for you. I don’t know why I never thought to try to fix you up with him when you first met him.”

“What’s wrong with his eating habits?” Jenny asked. “What does he eat?”

“Nothing too weird,” Catherine assured her. “He has, or at least he had a thing for chocolate cheese nuggets, but he doesn’t eat deep fried crickets or chocolate covered ants if that’s what you mean.”

“Chocolate cheese nuggets? Where does he get those?”

“I have no idea, but we’re getting off the subject. Why didn’t you say yes? You know you want to.”

“Am I that obvious?”

“As transparent as glass,” Catherine told her. “You love him. Hang up the phone and call him and tell him yes. Better yet, it’s still early, go over to his place and tell him in person.”

“Really? I mean, you worked for him. You had to have seen him in all kind of situations. Is he really as perfect as he seems?”

Catherine had to laugh again. “I wouldn’t call him perfect, but he is one of the good guys. I’m surprised he’s stayed single this long. He really does have a good heart, Jenn. He’ll be a wonderful husband, if you can overlook his occasional obsessive behavior when he’s working on a case that he really cares about. And he’ll be a great dad too. Just look at how he is with his nieces and Jake. You’ve been dating the man for three years, you should have noticed a few things by now.”

Jenny giggled and Catherine joined her.

“Besides that, nitwit. You should grab on to him with both hands and not let go! Do you hear me?”

“I hear you and I will obey! I think I just needed to hear it from you. I’ve been pretty much on my own since I was 18, and it’s a little scary to think about giving up my freedom.”

“I don’t think you’ll be giving up your freedom, Jenn. More like sharing it with the right person. Joe won’t clip your wings.”

“Thanks Cathy. I’m going to call Joe right now. Good night.”

“’Night Jenn.”

Catherine was smiling when she hung up the phone. She was happy for both her friends, but it reminded her of just how alone she was.

Her days were filled with Jake, but the evenings, after she put him to bed, were quiet, too quiet, and too long and lonely.

She walked into her bedroom and the phone started ringing again.

“Hello?” She expected to hear Jenny’s voice again, but instead it was Joe.

“I didn’t wake you did I?” he asked hesitantly.

“I answered after only one ring, what do you think?” She sat on the side of the bed.

“Oh yeah, and you don’t sound like you just woke up.”

“So what’s up, Joe?” She knew, but didn’t want him to know she’d already spoken to Jenny.

“I asked Jenny to marry me tonight,” he blurted out.

“What did she say?”

“She said she had to think about it. Why did she say that?”

“Maybe because she’d like to think about it,” suggested Catherine.

“But I thought she loved me. Do you think she’d have to think about it if she did?”

“Knowing Jenn as well as I do, yes. She’s been taking care of herself since she started college. She’s worked since she was fifteen. She’s self-sufficient and independent. I’d be surprised if she didn’t say she had to think about it. It doesn’t mean she doesn’t love you, Joe.”

“I hope you’re right, ‘cause I’m crazy about her and the idea of living the rest of my life without her is driving me nuts. You don’t think she’s worried that I’d want her to quit her job and start having babies right away do you?”

“I don’t think so, but you’ve seen her with your nieces and Jake. She’s good with kids and she loves them. She’s got several nieces and nephews of her own and she all but raised her two younger siblings.”

“Thanks Radcliffe,” he said with a sigh.

“For what?”

“For talking me down. I was worried, but now that you’ve pointed it out. I think you’re right.”

Catherine remembered that Jenny had said she was going to call Joe. She didn’t want her to get a busy signal and chicken out, so she hurried Joe off the phone.

“Joe, I think I hear Jake. I’ve got to go. Good luck, and I’m sure it will turn out the way you want it too. Good night.”

Joe said good night and hung up and Catherine replaced her handset and flopped back on the bed.

' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' '

The wedding was in February. Catherine was Jenny’s Maid of Honor and Greg Hughes was Joe’s Best Man. It was a simple ceremony with only family and a few friends attending, but the party afterward made up for it. It stretched on into the wee hours, but Catherine left when Jake started to look like he would fall asleep if he sat down.

“You’re leaving so early, Cathy?” asked Jenny.

“It’s way past Jake’s bedtime, and mine too for that matter,” she said with a wry grin.

“What time is it?”

“Almost midnight.”

“Oh for heaven’s sake. I was supposed to throw my bouquet at 10 and we were supposed to be out of here by 11. If you leave now, you won’t catch my flowers.”

“There are plenty of single women here for that particular tradition,” Catherine protested.

Jenny stepped back several steps.

“Think fast,” she said and tossed her flowers at Catherine.

Catherine automatically put her hands up and caught them.

“What was that supposed to be?” she asked.

“The bouquet toss. I wanted you to catch them, so now you have. Now all we have to do is find you a boyfriend.”

“Been there and done that, Jenn. It isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.”

The two women hugged and Catherine went off to collect her son and their coats. She ran into Greg Hughes as they were leaving the building.

“You’re leaving early, Greg,” she observed.

“Early shift in the morning. You got your car?”

“No, I’ll get a cab.”

“Let me take you home. The little guy is going to be out like a light as soon as you get him in a car, and it will be difficult to carry him.”

SECOND CHANCES - part 2