Dancing in the Rain

by Linda Barth

Life isn’t about waiting for the storm to pass.
It’s about learning how to dance in the rain.

             

           ~ Vivian Greene

Vincent lowered himself carefully to Catherine’s balcony, feeling his booted feet skid on the damp tiles. He knew she wouldn’t be expecting him for at least another hour. But the night had darkened early with an unexpected spring storm, and he couldn’t wait another moment to be with her.

Before he could raise a hand to rap against the rain-spattered glass, the French doors swung open, and Catherine’s gasp of surprise became a joyful word. “Vincent!”  She tossed her armload of pillows back into the living room and herself into her beloved’s arms. Yet as he snuggled her closer, she tilted her head and frowned at the night sky.

“It’s raining!”

He chuckled softly. “I think it is.”

They grinned at each other, recalling words spoken on another rainy night. But then their smiles faded.

“We won’t be able to read together on your balcony,” he began. “Perhaps some other night…”

“No!” She shook her head, the tiny droplets already glistening in the strands of her hair refuting her protest. “It’s only a gentle rain, nothing like the deluge during that concert. It won’t spoil our plans!”

His look of dismay transformed instantly to one of recollected pleasure. “I will never forget that rainstorm…And while it did change our plans that night, it didn’t spoil them.”

She smiled up at him in delight. “Not at all!”

Still wrapped in each other’s arms, they turned to look out over the rain-streaked city, where the lights of the park far below glistened like tiny stars. “Maybe if we just stay here, close to the doorway, we’ll be fine.” Hope sparkled in her eyes as she took a step backward, bringing him with her. “Just under the overhang. It might be dry enough.”

Although her solution seemed unlikely to succeed, he knew it would be impossible to refuse her, especially when he shared her hope. “Maybe, just for a little while.” He pulled her closer into his arms, turning to shield her from the growing storm.

She nestled her face against his chest, not caring one tiny bit about the cool moisture coating her cheek and beginning to seep into her clothing. “What did you bring to read tonight?” she murmured. “Something from Father’s library?”

“No. It’s a book Sebastien gave me one Winterfest. I’ve kept it in my chamber and cherished it as part of my own collection for many years.” He reluctantly moved one arm just enough to reach into a pocket sewn in the lining of his cloak. “A collection of poetry by Dylan Thomas.”

A gust of wind swept across the balcony, scattering raindrops everywhere. “Vincent, don’t! That book is too special. We can read from it some other time when we can keep it safe.”

Nodding, he wrapped both arms around her once again and leaned his head gently against her damp hair. “I remember another night when I stood out here, listening to you read The Elephant’s Child to a lonely little boy, keeping him safe with your care and comfort.”

“Tony! I wonder what’s become of him.” Her smile faded. “I wish you could have come inside and joined us that night. I hate to think of you out here alone in the darkness.”

He shook his head. “I wasn’t alone, Catherine. I could hear the warmth in your voice. I could picture your smile. Your light was within me…as it always is…”

She stood on tiptoes and pressed a quick kiss to his rain-dampened cheek, surprising and stirring them both. “As it always will be, just as yours is within me.”

They clung to one another, savoring each heartbeat, each breath, each precious shared moment. Their broken plans for the evening no longer meant much at all. There were no lives without limits, and this was nothing more than a small, slight setback on their journey forward.

A sudden crack of thunder and a flashing stab of lightning shattered the night

He tried to urge her through the open doors. “Catherine, you must go inside, and I must leave!”

“No! Don’t go! Maybe that was the end of the storm. Maybe –”

Together they peered skyward, hoping for the gleam of the moon emerging from behind storm clouds. Instead, sheets of silvery rain plummeted, drenching them in seconds. Momentarily stunned, they stared at one another, then, with gasps of laughter, they stumbled into the apartment together.

Several very wet towels later, they found themselves standing somewhat uneasily in the center of the living room. Catherine, wrapped in a robe of plush fleece, smiled at him. “You’ll have to stay a while longer, at least until your clothes are dry and the storm has let up.”

He tightened the belt of his thick flannel robe, not believing for an instant her explanation that it was an old one of her father’s that had somehow appeared in her closet. Perhaps if she’d remembered to remove the tag that lightly rasped against the back of his neck…

He ducked his head, but not quickly enough to hide an identical smile. “Yes, I’ll have to wait.”

Brilliant lightning lit the sky, underscored by a shattering of thunder. The wind flung waves of rain against the rattling balcony doors as the lights in the apartment flickered, then faded to blackness. He peered through the glass panels. “It appears there’s been a power failure. I can’t see any lights at all.”

She shivered as she began lighting candles scattered around the room. “Why don’t you light a fire? We’ll need to find a way to get warm.”

He turned to her, tilting his head at her words, wondering if she had more than a hearth fire in mind…hoping that perhaps she had.

Minutes later, on couch pillows spread on the floor in front of the fireplace, they cuddled under a handcrafted quilt. When she shivered again, he pulled the quilt tighter, tucking the swath of worn fabric squares around her shoulders. “I could ask Mary if she would make you a new quilt. This one has seen better days.”

“Absolutely not! I love this quilt because you gave it to me when I admired it on your bed. Nothing could ever convince me to let it go.” She smiled at him. “And maybe there are even better days in its future.”

Vincent felt a rush of heat suffuse his body, one that had nothing at all to do with the comfort of a quilt or flames in a fireplace. He smiled back at her. “Maybe there are.”

“I’m sorry I can’t make tea for us. I still have some of the blend you like so much, and it would help take away the chill.”

He dared nestle just a bit closer. “I’m starting to feel warmer now… Are you?”

“Oh, definitely.” She nestled her head against his chest, savoring the rapid steady beat of his heart, a rhythm that matched hers. “And soon we’ll be even warmer.”

He drew in a quick breath even as his arms tightened around her. “I think you’re right.”

“Oh, I just thought of something. Until the power comes back on, your wet clothes will just be sitting in the dryer.” She smiled a secret smile. “And that might not be for hours.”

At his silence, she felt a twinge of guilt for teasing him. “We could drape them near the fireplace. That should help.”

Before she could begin to reluctantly remove herself from his embrace, his arms pulled her closer. “Let’s wait a bit. Maybe the storm will pass soon.”

For a moment, her eyes widened in surprise, then she snuggled against him. “Okay,” she murmured while silently adding, but I hope it will last until morning!

Slowly, the heat of the fire and the sensation of being wrapped in each other’s arms, content and cozy and comfortable, made their eyes flicker and close. How many times had they dreamed of a moment like this; how could they even think of it ending too soon?

Maybe for just a little while more, he told himself.

Maybe forever, she whispered through the bond.

Yet after only a few minutes, she propped herself up one elbow, reveling in the gift the storm had given them, even as a twinge of guilt prickled at her contentment. “Vincent?”

“Mmm-hmm.” He opened drowsy eyes to see her looking down at him.

“This isn’t what we’d planned, and I know it wasn’t easy for you, but you need to know how happy I am you found the courage to come into my home tonight. It means…it means so much to me.”

She burrowed back into his embrace and felt his breath rustle the silky strands of her hair.

“It wasn’t courage, Catherine, it was love…” He felt the wash of joy his words evoked. “And it was something more.”

She leaned back in his embrace and sparkled a smile up at him. “Something more?”

He nodded but remained silent as a small smile quirked his lips.

She couldn’t outwait his enigmatic silence. “All right, tell me. What else made you come inside tonight?”

His smile became a grin. “The rain.”

Her burst of laughter warmed him like the summer sun he so often dreamed of. So, this was what it was like, this was what it could be…

She rolled her eyes. “All those times I’ve tried to tempt you to come inside, and this is what it takes? A rainstorm? If I’d only known!”

He shook his head. The still slightly damp ends of his hair swirled against her skin, sending the most delicious shivers through her. “Know this, Catherine.” The banked heat of his voice warmed her far more than the crackling fire before them. “Everything you do, everything you’ve ever done, has been a…temptation…”

He lowered his head, just brushing his lips against hers. The softest of sensations, the smallest step forward, a promise, a prelude. Breath held for a heartbeat, released in smoldering sighs. It was everything. It would never be enough.

And as the rain shimmered outside and the fire simmered within, they happily yielded – just a bit more — to temptation.

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Author’s note: In 2023 this CABB Challenge celebrated the twentieth anniversary of Winterfest Online. It required writers to choose at least two elements fitting each of ten categories (totaling 20 or more) and include them in their stories. The ones I used were:

1. Principal characters: Vincent, Catherine
2. Minor characters: Tony, Sebastien, Mary
3. Places Above: Catherine’s balcony, Catherine’s living room
4. Places Below: Father’s library, Vincent’s chamber
5. Events: Concert in the park, Winterfest
6. Quotations: “It wasn’t courage, it was love.” “There is no life without limits.”
7. BatB symbols/talismans: candles, books of poetry
8. Episode titles: A Gentle Rain, Temptation
9. Items found in Vincent’s chamber: Collection of his favorite books, quilt from his bed
10. Books from the episodes: The Elephant’s Child, a book of poetry by Dylan Thomas]

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