Chapter 5

Rainy Day Reverie

Dreary - that was the only way to describe this cold November day. Cathy sat by the window and watched the raindrops as they splattered against the glass. Sitting in the comfortable chair, enveloped in Vincent's large robe, she was glad that she was warm and snug inside the house and not out fighting the workday crowds. Sipping her tea, she let her mind wander as she inhaled the essence of Vincent given off by the robe.

The winter weather tended to wreak havoc with the tunnels, and Vincent had been in the lower levels for the past two days helping to shore up the various leaks. Experience had taught that these small problems could develop into disasters if left unchecked. Though she missed him dreadfully, she could feel through the bond that he was safe and would be coming home soon. Surrounding herself in his robe and scent, combined with his love through the bond, gave her a sense of contentment. Idly rubbing her greatly expanded waistline, she realized that these precious lives inside of her were another facet to her contentment.

The pregnancy was advancing normally. She’d been lucky to escape the morning sickness that so many of her friends had experienced. Peter was happy with the progress of the babies and her weight gain, which matched the charts to a tee. In fact, the only negative so far was the fact that everyone treated her as though she were made of glass.

Some women might enjoy being waited on hand and foot, but it drove Cathy crazy. She had put up with it good-naturedly (she thought) for about a month before finally reaching her limit. She smiled ruefully as she remembered the scene in Father's study.

Cathy couldn't remember now what had instigated the confrontation, but she’d finally had enough. She chuckled, remembering the looks on Vincent and Father's faces as she explained to them, loudly and with great emphasis, that she was not an invalid and refused to be treated as such any more. She had stormed out of the chamber and made her way to the Mirror Pool.

By the time Vincent had joined her there, she was quite contrite over her behavior. She knew that he was worried and was treating her the way he did out of love. Her apology echoed his through the bond as she sought the comfort of his embrace. They’d talked for hours about their feelings and fears. Things had gotten a little better since then ... she wasn't treated like fine crystal any more, just good glass she thought with a rueful smile.

Cathy's mind was brought back to the present as one of her little bundles of joy decided it was time for gymnastics practice. One got the other started and soon it felt as if she had two wildcats fighting inside of her. If activity was an indication, there was absolutely nothing wrong with these kids. She remembered the first time that Vincent felt the babies move. He’d been laying with his head in her lap, reading Jane Eyre aloud, when one of the babies suddenly kicked him right in the cheek. Vincent jumped up as if shot, and only her laughter had kept him from running for Father. She teased him later that evidently he wasn't reading loudly enough for the baby to hear. It was amazing though, Vincent's voice did seem to calm the antics of these future Olympians.

She thought about Vincent as a father. No, a daddy. This thought always brought a smile to her face. He was such an imposing figure, a man of great strength and power and yet shy and self-effacing, especially around adults. However, around the children he blossomed.

They were drawn to his strength and his quiet, loving care. He comforted physical and emotional hurts, explained the mysteries of life, provided a sense of protection and expected the best from them. He could resolve disputes without anger or recrimination. The children loved him, and his disappointment in them was more devastating than any punishment.

But he was their friend as well as mentor. He could often be found playing marbles with Geoffrey, flying kites with Eric in the Chamber of the Winds, or involved in the group games of medieval battles and knightly pursuits in the less populated tunnels. Quieter times found him sitting on his large bed or Father's sofa, surrounded by various sized children, reading aloud.

Thoughts of Vincent as a daddy caused her mind to wander to her own father and youth. She’d had an idyllic childhood, marred only by the death of her mother. Her parents were loving of each other and her. Though she never wanted for anything, she was not so spoiled that she got everything she desired. Her happiest memories were of 'times' - climbing trees, spending time at the lake, fishing with her father, ice skating with her mother, holiday celebrations - rather than 'things'. It gave her satisfaction that her children would grow up with the same loving atmosphere and, hopefully, the same type of wonderful memories.

Though these children could live in the lap of luxury, they would be brought up in a much simpler environment, based on values and not material possessions. That was the way of Vincent's world, her world now, and the idea made her happy.

She was a very wealthy woman, wealthier than she had imagined until closing her father's estate, more wealthy than Vincent would probably ever know. Her father had made good-sized investments in various companies throughout the years. The companies were not flashy or trendy, but the stocks had increased steadily in value and many had split several times. Her father had lived well on the income from his law practice and rarely, if ever, touched his investments, having the dividends reinvested in stock. This had been his nest egg, but he’d never felt the desire to retire, so it was all hers as his only heir. On top of that, she had a large trust fund from her mother that alone provided for all her needs.

She chuckled. Even had she continued the self-indulgent lifestyle she’d enjoyed pre-Vincent, she could have lived obscenely well without having to work for the rest of her life. Now, she saw the money as a way to do good. She had arranged various trusts and foundations to manage the bulk of the estate and disburse it where needed. She was still working on other ideas.

Part of the money, however, had been set aside for a more personal matter. Through a dummy corporation, she was quietly buying the property around the lake house in Connecticut. She still dreamed of going there with Vincent someday, and now was envisioning family vacations with their children as well. Although the house was situated on a large parcel of land, Cathy was substantially increasing the size of the property so that Vincent would be more secure. Her dream of walking in the sunshine with him would never overshadow her desire to keep him safe, but she felt that both goals were possible, even if she had to buy the entire state of Connecticut to make it happen.

The chiming of the grandfather clock in the foyer and the rumbling of her stomach notified Cathy that suppertime was near. Delicious smells wafted to her from the kitchen, intensifying her hunger as a light tap on the library door drew her attention.

Bouncy red curls and a pair of bright green eyes appeared as the door opened a crack. Seeing that Cathy wasn't napping, Colleen asked if Vincent might be home for dinner. Concentrating on the bond, Cathy felt that he was, indeed, on his way home. Colleen arranged a small table by the fire and left to finish preparing dinner. Cathy promised to notify her when Vincent arrived.

Colleen Sullivan Marten. What a godsend she was. Colleen Sullivan, the daughter of longtime Helpers, was living at home and studying to be a teacher at NYU. Frank Marten had spent his early childhood in the tunnels before his family had moved upstate and had recently moved back to New York to attend Columbia Law School. They had met at this year's Winterfest celebration and had immediately fallen in love.

They’d become engaged around the time of Vincent and Catherine's wedding. Going to school on scholarships, they couldn't afford to get married and had resigned themselves to a long engagement. Cathy, who had been helping Frank with his law studies, had taken a special interest in the young couple. Seeing how right they were for each other, she wanted them to be as happy as she and Vincent were ... she wanted everyone to be as happy as she and Vincent were.

When Cathy had found out about her pregnancy, she’d decided that she wanted to move Below, at least for a while. If the babies favored Vincent, it would be a necessity; however, even if the babies favored her, she wanted the warmth and security of their family around them. She was happy and content living Below, a fact that surprised and delighted both Vincent and Father.

That left the problem of the house. She wanted to keep it for many reasons, not the least of which was that it was a safer way for her to go Above than the drainage tunnel. It was also a way for her friends Above to contact her.

Not wanting to leave the house vacant, Cathy had made Colleen and Frank an offer they couldn't refuse. They could live in the house, free of charge, in exchange for taking care of it, with the understanding that she and Vincent would occasionally use the third floor, and that people would be using it for access to the tunnels.

Two months ago the young couple had married and moved into one of the second floor bedrooms. Colleen, who turned out to be a terrific cook, took over the housekeeping chores and had tried to wait on Cathy as if she were royalty. She had finally lightened up as she and Cathy had become good friends, and her help had been appreciated, especially as the pregnancy had advanced.

And the pregnancy had advanced. Cathy had been working at home for several months and now, having finished the final case for Joe, she and Vincent would finally be moving Below this weekend. She looked forward to spending Thanksgiving and Christmas in the tunnels; she had not celebrated the holidays as part of a family in a long time.

Holidays were for family, and normally she missed her parents more during those times than any other. With the babies coming, she knew these holidays would have been harder had she not had her family Below. Though she knew the secrecy was necessary, she wished that her Father could have met Vincent and gotten to know him. She thought that the two of them would have gotten along well, especially once her father saw how much Vincent loved her and how well he took care of her. Her parents' greatest wish was for her to be happy.

Her heart soared as she felt Vincent draw near and, as the click of the hidden door put an end to her reveries, she sent a silent prayer to her parents, "Mother, Dad, you don't have to worry about me. I'm truly having my happy life."