“Vincent, what are you hoping to discover in that candle flame?”

“Father?” I was surprised to find him at my shoulder.

“I called you from the tunnel, got no answer, and came in to find you sitting here.  Staring at the …”

“The colors … I was looking at the colors.”

“Oh?”

“They’re beautiful.”

“Y-e-s.”  He drew out the syllable, as though in some confusion over my concentration.  Or interest.  “Surely, you’ve long been aware, learned about …”

I stood and interrupted what more he planned to say.  “I’m going Above tonight.”

“Is it dark up there yet?”

I hugged him, reached for my cloak, and explained it would be by the time I went out.

“Good.  Good,” he said again, obviously relieved, if not exactly happy.  He worried I was tempting fate and would be seen, or worse, captured, on one of my increasingly frequent forays to visit Catherine.

Catherine. 

I loved her.  Loved her with all my heart.  Of course, I would not ever tell Father that.  Would never tell anyone.  It had only recently begun not to sound absurd when I told myself.  And I’d begun telling myself daily, hourly, moment after moment.  I love Catherine.  It made me happy to form the words, aloud or in thought, happy because I forbade my ‘thought’ to wander beyond the fact.

That ‘ban’ might have slipped occasionally, for there were times when the barest hint of what … did … linger … beyond the fact … would creep into my consciousness.  It might manifest as frighteningly sad.  Sometimes it felt frighteningly joyful.  I always shut it out immediately.  Sought a distraction.  Immediately.  Yet I knew … something … waited.  Something I, perhaps she and I, would have to face one day.

“Vincent, are you listening?”

“Father, I’m sorry.  You were saying?”

I heard a poorly concealed huff of frustration as he, I knew, felt duty-bound to repeat, “Please let me know when you get home.”

I was sorry for the worry I caused this good man who was father, friend, confidant.  Life saver.

“I will leave a note at your bedside for you to find when you awaken.  Don’t ask me to disturb you.”  I’d have added, “And don’t wait up for me,” if I thought it might do any good.

He looked at me for long moments before suggesting, “I will go to bed at my usual time, Vincent, so you needn’t return early for my sake.”

“Thank you, Father.”  I wondered if that concession cost him greatly.

Then he explained, “I’m not so old that I don’t remember how it was to be with the one person …”

I had to smile.  “No, I imagine one never is too old to recall and cherish those memories.”

“Yes, well, enjoy your time with Catherine.  Say hello from me.  Invite her down to eat with us one day soon.”

With that shocking instruction, he turned away and, reaching for his cane, left my chamber.

“Vincent.”

I heard a whisper of something I was afraid to honor with acknowledgement … and she’d only said my name.  I felt suspended in place, so I held out my hands and she came closer to take them in hers.

“I hoped you’d be able to come tonight.”

“Did you?  Did you, Catherine?”  Why did I ask?  I believed her.  I thrilled to the belief.

“Of course.  I always … hope.  Every evening.  Ever since that first time, when we read the final chapter of Great Expectations together.  Remember?”

“I frightened you that night.”

She laughed and drew me a little closer.  “I feared some unknown threat.  When I saw … you …”

I could not prevent myself from encouraging what more she might say.  “Yes, when you saw me …”

“Vincent, the darkness was dispelled, all was radiant, unbelievably bright, and I saw my happiness … shining … in you.”

She seemed unsure of all she’d just said and withdrew her hands but never took her eyes from my face.  “Perhaps I should not have …”

I reached to gather her in my arms.  To feel her softness, warmth, pressed against my body … it was difficult to breathe.  We stood there, absorbed in a wordless exchange.  I, telling her I loved her.  Repeatedly.  She … my heart heard her words of love.

In the midst of that heavenly communion, I wondered if, clinging so tightly together, we might resemble a single candle flame.  Colors.  Aglow with love.

__________

our love, incandescent for all time, H
July 30, 2025