By this time in the story, Father and Diana had arrived in Catherine’s room. Diana interrupted his narrative. “It never occurred to you that the baby was Vincent’s, Father?”
Father shook his head. “It never occurred to me that Vincent’s DNA and blood chemistry would be compatible enough with Catherine’s to produce a child. Over the years, we have had more than one occasion when Vincent suffered serious blood loss from injuries sustained while protecting us, but we couldn’t give him a blood transfusion, because his blood chemistry was so unique. Medicines I tried to treat him with during illnesses he had as he was growing up almost always had a far different effect on him than on a normal human. When he suffered his mental breakdown after Paracelsus’ deception, that illness was compounded by an high fever, and he showed up at Catherine’s apartment totally delirious. Catherine took care of him there for a week, but she feared for his very life. She finally insisted that Peter send a blood sample to a medical lab to try to determine the source of his illness. They refused to process it, because they informed Peter that what he had sent them was animal blood. They assumed he had mixed it up with his patient’s blood.
“A day or two after we rescued Catherine, Vincent came to me and told me that Catherine had told him herself that the baby was his before she lost consciousness. I know my shock at that news must have
dismayed him. It was just such an unexpected miracle. I was sure they would be childless. I immediately sent word to Peter that her child was Vincent’s, and he had been stolen from her. He gave Catherine a shot to stimulate her milk production, and we started pumping and freezing her breast milk until Little Jacob was recovered from Gabriel. Since the baby has been with us, we have been feeding him his own mother’s milk. I was hoping that handling that milk might help Vincent recover his connection with Catherine, but so far that hasn’t happened. Anyway, it is a lot better for Little Jacob than formula.”
Diana walked to Catherine’s bedside and sat in the rocking chair there. She picked up Catherine’s hand and held it while she talked to Father. “I attended her funeral myself, and I had my photographer take pictures of it.
How on earth did you manage that without anyone discovering that she wasn’t in her coffin?”
Father chuckled, “Marcus Brenner came up with the brilliant idea to suggest a closed coffin to Catherine’s friends, your District Attorney, Joe Maxwell, and Jenny Aronson, who showed up to make the arrangements. He told them that the abuse Cathy had suffered at the hands of her assailants had ruined her appearance, and suggested that no one would want to have that as their last memory of her. They were very happy to take his advice. Then he loaded the coffin with a flour sack containing one-hundred-five pounds of sand. Joe Maxwell was one of the pall bearers, and he didn’t notice anything
out of the ordinary.”
Peter came into the room at that point accompanied by Rebecca, who was taking a shift caring for Catherine. Rebecca was a pretty young woman with curly long blond hair and blue eyes. She turned on a brilliant smile, “We thought we heard voices in here!”
Father introduced Diana to Peter, and then Peter gave them some wonderful news. “A couple of hours ago I was able to take Catherine off her I.V. and remove the feeding tube. The latest brain scan shows that she is out of her coma, but she is still deeply asleep. She can swallow, though, and we managed to feed her some Jell-O. There really is no physical reason why she shouldn’t be awake. I’m thinking the reason may be the same one that has Vincent still severed from her empathically, deep psychological trauma. Only time will heal that. I sent Kipper down to William in your kitchen chamber to fetch some of the soup he makes for anyone who is ill. The healing Chinese herbs he puts in it from Dr. Wong’s shop in Chinatown and the vegetables from Mong’s Vietnamese grocery store are the best medicines she could have.”
Diana had been so overwhelmed emotionally to actually see one of her crime victims living and well cared for, that she had failed to notice the lovely classical piano music drifting in from another part of Peter’s home. “Is that an actual person playing that beautiful music?” She asked.
Father added his own query, “Peter, is that Rolley?”
Peter answered both of them, “It is! He comes here every evening and plays for a couple of hours on my grand piano in the drawing room on the second floor. He said that he needed to play for Cathy, because he knew how much she enjoyed the concerts in Central Park with Vincent, in the tunnel under the platform where they could hear them through the storm grate. He talked about how Cathy helped Vincent to rescue him from the streets when he was addicted to heroin, and how he owed it to her to help her get better.”
Father smiled, “Cathy has been such a blessing for all of us ever since Vincent first found her. Everyone loves her dearly. I’m glad that they are all able to participate in helping her and Vincent to recover. It has been very therapeutic for the whole community to be involved during this crisis.”
Moments later Rolley showed up in the doorway.
Rolley was a very handsome young African-American man, although aged a little beyond his years from the time wasted as an heroin addict. However, he now looked like he was at peace and happy. Father introduced him to Diana, and he took her outstretched hand shyly. She quickly put him at ease, though, by asking him about the piece he had been playing on the piano. “That was Bach’s “Ave Maria,” wasn’t it?” she asked.
Rolley smiled and answered, “Yes, Johann Sebastian Bach. He’s dead now. Vincent said that all of the dead composers would like knowing that I play their music.”
Diana smiled at his enthusiasm. “Yes, they would like it very much, Rolley. It is a way for them and their works to live on.”
Rolley continued, “If it hadn’t been for Ms. Kendrick teaching me how to read music in the tunnels when I was brought to her as a boy, I wouldn’t have known what I was playing. At that time, I could only play pieces I had heard before, and I had no idea what they were called or who had written them. She opened a much larger world for me, so I could play anything, whether I had heard it before or not, and understand what I was playing.” He looked at Peter. “Is Cathy any better?”
Father answered for him. “Peter was just telling us that Cathy is now off her I.V. and feeding tube, so she is much better. Your music is powerful medicine for her, Rolley.”
Rolley beamed, and said, “I’m headed back home now.” Father quickly responded, “Wait a minute, Rolley, and well go with you. Are you ready to go, Diana?”
Diana shook her head. “I’m going to stay with Cathy for a little while longer, Father.”
Rebecca chimed in, “I can lead her back when Sarah comes in to relieve me in a couple of hours.”
Peter added, “Or I can drive her home.”
Diana objected to that suggestion. “Thank you, Peter, but no one who isn’t a regular member of your household should come or go by the street entrance.”
Peter looked quizzically at Father, and Father
explained, “Diana wants to be absolutely certain that there is no further threat from Gabriel’s organization.”
Diana clarified, “Yes, precisely! Until I’m certain, we should only use the tunnel access to your home.”
Peter took Father’s arm and asked Rolley, “Do you mind waiting for a few minutes before you go back, Rolley? I need to talk to Father about something.”
Rolley replied, “Not at all! Ill just sit here with Diana, Cathy, and Rebecca until Father is ready to go.”
Peter took Father down the hallway to his office, seated him, and closed the door. He began, “I had an interesting visit today from Elliott Burch’s executor. He contacted me because I am Cathy’s executor. The way Cathy set it up, she also gave me her power-of-attorney in the event that she was incapacitated, so we are covered whether she lives or dies. Anyway, Elliott Burch was bankrupted by Gabriel, but he left a five-million-dollar insurance policy with Catherine’s child as the beneficiary. The only stipulation was that I produce a birth ce
rtificate for Little Jacob. I’ve got your Helper in the Department of Vital Statistics working on that right now.”
Father was shocked by the news. “I wonder what possessed Elliott Burch to do something that generous!” Peter added, “I don’t know, but that isn’t all. As the executor of Catherine’s will, and as her attorney-in-fact, since she is actually still alive, I was sent the paperwork on all of her holdings some time ago. Her own estate, between her investments and what her father left to her, is
in excess of eleven-million-dollars. She stipulated in both her will and the power-of-attorney that those funds were to be used for the benefit of your community at the discretion of myself, you, and Vincent. It is apparent that her priorities had changed radically over the past few years, because her investments were in a shambles. I took the liberty of having my investment broker, Sandra Goldman, go over all of Cathy’s holdings. She has reinvested almost everything in a new portfolio which is now producing healthy returns. Anyway, there is no reason for anyone in your world to ever want for anything again, and you will be able to pay your Helpers.”
Father shook his head. “I’m overwhelmed! Please be sure to set up accounts with everyone who has been providing supplies to us, Peter.
Peter smiled, “Already done, Father.”
As Vincent slept, he dreamed.
He found himself in a white mist with a small figure coming through the mist toward him. It was Catherine, dressed in a delicate white wedding gown beaded with natural pearls, trimmed at the neckline and at the ends of the long elegant sleeves, with intricate white lace. Her
light brown hair was swept up and adorned with one each of the white and red roses from the bush on her balcony. She reached for him, and he took her small hands in his huge ones and saw that he was wearing a white ruffled formal shirt and a black velvet vest over black formal dress pants and black boots. On her left ring finger was the most beautiful set of crystal wedding rings he could ever have imagined, and his left ring finger also wore a much larger masculine crystal ring. He recognized that the crystals were from the Crystal Cavern. He looked into Catherine’s blue-green eyes, bent over to kiss her, and awakened with a start.
Vincent sat up on the edge of his bed, closed his eyes, and put his head in his hands. When he could bring himself to look up, he saw that Mary had fallen asleep in the new rocker, and Little Jacob was sound asleep in his bassinet. Pretty eighteen-year-old Brooke, with her wavy shoulder-length brown hair, was standing in the doorway with a baby bottle of milk. “Am I disturbing you, Vincent?”
Vincent answered, “Not at all, Brooke. Come on in.”
Brooke went on, “Peter sent another bottle of breast milk for Little Jacob’s feeding, and I was hoping to give it to him.” Almost on cue, as if he knew, even in his sleep, that it was feeding time, Little Jacob stirred and then fussed.
Vincent smiled, “That would be wonderful, Brooke. It
was such a blessing that Peter found a woman who had lost her baby and was generous enough to donate her milk to Little Jacob. Perhaps you could feed him and then watch over him for a little while, so I can take Mary to her chamber and put her to bed. She has worn herself out fretting over me.”
Brooke lit up with a smile, “Sure! I’m going to change him first, though, before I feed him.” She reached for the pile of diapers under the bassinet.
Vincent was momentarily alarmed when it occurred to him that Catherine’s rose was no longer in his hand.
When he found it safe in its pouch, he realized Diana must have put it away after he fell asleep, and he smiled. Then he stood up and stepped over to the bassinet. He took the bottle of milk from Brooke, so she could change the baby. Suddenly, Catherine’s face, eyes closed in death, was clear in his mind, and he heard her voice distinctly, “Vincent! Where are you?” He closed his eyes in pain and laid the bottle on the table.
Brooke looked at him in alarm. “Vincent, are you all right?”
Vincent smiled softly at her concern. “I’m all right, Brooke. Don’t worry.”
As Vincent stepped over to the rocker and picked Mary up in his arms, Brooke stopped what she was doing and stared in disbelief at the beautiful rocking chair. “Is that the rocking chair Cullen made?”
Vincent chuckled at the same look he and Diana had
shared over that chair, “It sure is.”
Brooke was mesmerized by it, “I had heard that he was working on one, but I didn’t go look. How does he do that?”
Vincent laughed softly as he walked with Mary in his arms toward the doorway, “I think he must use magic. Ill be right back.”
Brooke called after him, “Don’t hurry!”
Vincent turned around and looked at her. “Well, if you are fine here for awhile, 111 go talk to Father after I put Mary into bed.”
Brooke beamed at the opportunity to spend more time with Little Jacob, “Please do.”
When Vincent finally got to Father’s chamber, no one was there. Moments later Jamie came in and asked, “Vincent, have you seen Mouse?”
Vincent answered, “No, Jamie, I’m sorry. Have you seen Father?”
Jamie told him, “He and Diana talked here for quite a while, and then he took her back to the tunnels under her apartment building. I can’t believe hell be too much longer there. Would you like for me to stay with you while you wait?”
Vincent smiled at her. “That isn’t necessary, Jamie.
Ill just do some reading while I’m waiting.”
Jamie turned to go. “OK, if you see Mouse, will you tell him that I’m in my chamber, and to please come find
me? Samantha told me that he was working on a new crossbow for me, and I’m anxious to see it.”
Vincent promised, “111 be sure to tell him if I do see him.” Jamie left, and Vincent settled in the big arm chair with a volume of poetry he had picked up off Father’s large table.
When Father returned to his chambers, he found Vincent waiting for him. “Have you been here long, Vincent?”
Vincent closed the book, reached over and laid it back on the table, and then assured him, “No, Father. I came only moments ago. Jamie told me that you had taken Diana out to her access tunnel.”
Father told him, “Yes, actually, she took me to her loft, and I got to see Catherine’s beautiful rosebush with the red and white roses. It is a miracle that Diana was able to save it from what she said about its condition when she found it. Did you need to talk to me?”
Vincent spoke carefully, “Yes, I wanted to ask you something. Catherine and I were married, weren’t we?” Father’s face lit up, “You remembered that?”
Vincent gave him a look of dismay. “I wish that I did! Catherine said we had loved, and a son was born. How could I lose a memory that beautiful? I only know that I can’t imagine that we would conceive a child together without completing our dream of being married first. My heart tells me that we were married.”
Father was quick to comfort him, “Vincent, you were
married.” He went to the drawer in his sleeping chamber and brought Vincent the ring and marriage certificate.
Vincent picked up the certificate and looked at the names on it, Vincent Wells and Catherine Chandler. A look of peace and relief passed over his face. “Thank goodness!
I was half afraid that I had lost control of myself and might have done something terrible, even though she told me that we had loved with such tenderness in her voice.” Father said very emphatically, “Vincent, Catherine was blissfully happy with you. You never did anything to hurt her, ever!”
Vincent laid the certificate down and picked up the ring. “This ring is mine?”
Father nodded, “Yes. Catherine brought these things to me when you became ill; to keep until your memory was restored.”
Vincent shook his head sadly, “Catherine wasn’t wearing any rings when I found her. Gabriel must have taken hers from her.”
Father corrected him, “No, Vincent. She brought me her rings as well, because she didn’t wan
t you to experience any anxiety over things you couldn’t remember. After you found her, I put her rings on her finger myself. Dr. Marx sent me a message to come and assist him with Catherine’s body after you called him from her apartment.”
Vincent was again relieved, “I’m glad she is wearing hers.” Vincent put his ring on. “I’m really glad, Father,
that you did that for her.” He got up and gave Father an hug and a kiss. “It says on the marriage certificate that we were married by Kevin Chin. Was it a beautiful ceremony?”
Father smiled as he remembered, “I think it was the most beautiful ceremony we’ve ever had. Everyone was shedding tears of joy, because we had all wanted this for you and Catherine for so long. You wouldn’t believe the happy chaos that ensued when you came to me and told me that the two of you wanted to be married!”
Vincent sat back down in one armchair, and Father settled in the other one, “Tell me about it, Father.”
Father told him the story. “You came to me on a Wednesday late in the September before this past one and asked to be married in a simple no-fuss ceremony on the last Saturday in September, just three days away. Well, the whole community was up-in-arms over that and wouldn’t hear of a simple anything! It was complete mayhem for those three days while they converted this Council chamber into a gorgeous wedding chapel. There were flowers and fancy candles everywhere, and everyone dressed in their finest. You looked magnificent in your ruffled shirt—”
Vincent finished, “and black velvet vest.”
Father looked at him in surprise, “You do remember!” Vincent shook his head. “No, Father, I dreamed about what we were wearing just before I came here. That was why I asked you about whether we were married. The
dream was so real.”
Father went on, “Catherine wore her mother’s wedding gown, and it was truly lovely.”
Vincent asked, “Did it have natural pearls sewn onto
it?”
Beauty and the Beast Page 7