THE ACHE FOR HOME

by Lindariel

[Author’s introductory notes:  This story is the 16th in my Beauty and the Beast AU series, which picks up after the Season 2 episode “A Kingdom by the Sea” and then goes in a different direction.  No Hollow Men, no Paracelsus abducting and then masquerading as Father, no mental breakdown for Vincent, and most importantly, Catherine is never abducted by Gabriel (I deal with him in other ways) and therefore DOESN’T DIE! And Elliott Burch doesn’t die EITHER!! 

My previous stories in chronological order (all are posted under the name Lindariel across both versions of CABB Tunnel Tales and on Archive of Our Own) are The Last Straw … ?, Pay It Forward, Arthur’s Gift, The View from Here, Do You Happen to Have the Time?, A Fine and Private Place, His Own Kind of Nobility, Walking Unfamiliar Ground, Songbirds of North America, A Second Harvest, A Late Harvest, What Cuddly Beast, No Way UP! / The Insiders, Blame It on the Mets, Sunflowers for Thankfulness, and A Special Surprise (which is a glimpse into the future). This story follows after What Cuddly Beast.

For readers who are jumping in with this story:  Stan Kaczmarek is Elliott Burch’s birth name. After his father was murdered in “A Kingdom by the Sea,” Elliott basically hit rock bottom, did a lot of soul searching, and decided to “go back to the beginning” to figure out where he went wrong.  He put his business in escrow, took back his birth name, moved into his Dad’s ratty apartment close to the docks, took a job as a longshoreman, and started over. Finding new meaning in some volunteer work at a local soup kitchen, Stan then runs into a desperate Kipper on the street who is being chased by some gun-toting goons because Kipper saw them transporting women being trafficked into the commercial sex business. They escape, go to the police, and Catherine is called in to help talk to the eye-witnesses.  In the process of getting Stan and Kipper to a safe house, the three are attacked and escape into the Tunnels, where Stan/Elliott finally meets Vincent, the man who won his Cathy’s heart. Stan’s experiences in the Tunnels and his growing fondness for Kipper, who reminds him of a young Stosh Kaczmarek, help provide him with a new direction for his talents, wealth, and ambition – a complete reimaging of low-income housing.  In concert with his former adversary Luz Corrales, the activist who helped bring down his Burch Tower project, Stan establishes the Mathilde Kaczmarek Innovations in Housing Foundation, named after his late mother.  Oh, and Stan is in the process of applying to become Kipper’s legal guardian.

By the way, the “prior intimate experience” Vincent refers to in this story can be found in my earlier story Walking Unfamiliar Ground, and you can learn about how Catherine found her rescue kitty Lucky in What Cuddly Beast.. Enjoy! ]

* * * * *

The ache for home lives in all of us,
the safe place where we can go as we are
and not be questioned.

 – Maya Angelou

“Well, it’s a real shame,” Luz Corrales declared, as she and Stan Kaczmarek exited the boarded-up three-story commercial building on Hobart Street in the East Village. “It’s a terrific building for our purposes, but the neighborhood just isn’t right. There really isn’t much demand here for low-income housing.”

Stan sighed, squinting back up into the late May sun to admire the handsome Art Deco architecture with the stylized roses over each window. Walking by this building every day as a young Cooper Union architecture student, he’d often dreamed of buying it and turning the top floor into a home for his folks — the graceful, spacious home in a beautiful neighborhood his dear, hard-working mother deserved, rather than their depressing, cramped, rundown tenement by the docks. 

He sighed again, then startled out of his reverie at the sound of someone clearing their throat.  Luz was looking at him, a bit concerned, her brow raised inquiringly.

Say something to her, you idiot, before she thinks you’ve gone barmy!

“Uh … yeah … you’re right about the neighborhood,” he belatedly replied after clearing his own throat.  “I was pretty sure that would be the case.  Sorry for checking out on you for a moment there.  I used to walk by this building every day on my way to class. I was just remembering how proud I was to put my lecture notes to use by identifying it as Art Deco.  It brings back good memories, and I just couldn’t pass up an opportunity to take a tour inside when I heard it was becoming available.  I’ve always liked it.”

He relaxed a bit as Luz’s perturbed brow melted away, replaced by an easy smile.  

Dodged another bullet there. Never forget, you are still on probation with the lady, and she doesn’t miss a thing!

The two colleagues walked to the corner to hail a cab back to the Mathilde Kaczmarek Foundation’s temporary headquarters at the Fairness in Housing Coalition, where Luz served as executive director. As a taxi pulled up, Stan pointed down the block.

“Two blocks further down and one block over is the lecture hall for the architecture program at The Cooper Union,” Stan commented, holding the door open for Luz. “That’s where I got my degrees. I really love this neighborhood.”

Luz smiled at him again as she double-checked their list of potential properties to inspect. “Oh, I agree, and I hope whoever buys that building does something truly worthwhile with it. There’s already plenty of retail in the area,” she noted. “A good medical clinic or legal aid office wouldn’t go amiss, though.”

Stan considered her comment for a moment, his eyes lighting up with a new idea, and then stepped back up onto the curb. “Why don’t you go ahead and take this cab back to the office, and I’ll get another,” he suggested. “I’ve just had an idea, and I’m going to see if I can follow through on it right now.”

“OK,” she laughed. “I know better than to get in your way when you have that light bulb look going on. Let me guess, you know someone who might do the right thing with that building.”

She handed him the spec sheet for the Hobart Street building and climbed into the cab.

“Got it in one!” he replied, taking the paper with a flourish, shutting the cab door behind her, and leaning into the open window. “I should be back in plenty of time for our four o’clock meeting with the Bronx Neighborhood Association.”

“Keep your fingers crossed,” she responded. “If they give us the go-ahead on a neighborhood partnership, we’ll be able to take possession of that condemned high-rise apartment building and launch our second project.”

Stan laughed, “Sure! I’ll just add a kitchen sink to the three oranges, the anvil, the live chicken, and the chainsaw I’m already juggling. No problem!”

“You know you love it!” she called out as the cab left the curb.

“You can say that again,” Stan murmured with a smile as he hailed another cab. “Take me to the DA’s office, please.”

* * *

Catherine knocked gently on Joe’s door before gingerly opening it and ducking down just in case there was a dart already in mid-air.

THWACK!

A poorly aimed dart smacked sideways into the dart board just to the right of the doorway and fell harmlessly to the floor.

“You really need to move that thing before you have an OSHA lawsuit on your hands,” Catherine remarked drily, as she deposited a small stack of files into Joe’s inbox.

“Aw, Radcliffe, now where would be the fun in that?” Joe replied with a rakish smile, rising to gather up his errant dart. “It pretty quickly teaches folks to always knock before entering, and keeps the interns on their toes. As far as I’m concerned, that’s a win-win.” He pointed at the inbox. “Please tell me that’s the last of the Klein paperwork.”

“Ugh! I wish,” Catherine sighed. “That’s just the latest salvo from Interpol. We’re still waiting on two more amended statements from the FBI, but I think we might at last be seeing the light at the end of the tunnel. The files they recovered from Klein’s Long Island estate and from Jonathan Pope’s office are pretty scary. What Gabriel Klein was intending to accomplish just boggles the mind. That maniac had dirt on politicians, law enforcement officials, contractors, not to mention all the ties to drug smuggling and human trafficking. Turns out, he was pulling Max Avery’s strings, as well as his mob enforcers’. Given another year, he would have owned half of the city either literally or figuratively. I’m just glad we were able to warn Moreno off that real estate deal he was considering. I’d hate to think what might have happened if Gabriel Klein had been able to blackmail or buy off the DA’s office.”

“You and me too, kiddo,” Joe agreed. “Listen, you’ve had a long slog getting through all this Interpol paperwork. The FBI statements still aren’t here. Why don’t you take the rest of the day off?  Make it an early weekend.”

“Consider me gone!” she smiled, giving Joe a quick hug. “And find something healthier to eat than those disgusting chocolate-covered cheese nuggets. I can’t believe you keep buying those things!”

“Hey, gimme a break!” Joe complained. “I’m having dinner at Ma’s tonight, so I’ll be sure to eat my vegetables then like a good boy.”

“Well, thank goodness,” Catherine replied. “Someone has to make sure you live on something besides junk.”

“Get out of here before I change my mind!” Joe joshed, waving her out of the office.

Just as the door closed behind her, Catherine heard the THWACK of another dart hitting the dart board sideways and then the floor. She giggled as she crossed back to her office. Some things never change. Her giggles turned into a gasp of pleasant surprise as she spotted Stan Kaczmarek occupying one of the chairs in front of her desk.

“Stan!” she called in greeting, pausing to give him a quick hug before taking a seat behind her desk. “How are things going with the social worker for your guardianship petition?”

“Just fine, so far,” Stan replied. “I’ve taken Ms. Wallace on a tour of the Juniper Street renovation and talked through my plans for the building, especially my new loft apartment on the top floor, and I put her in touch with Jacob’s Board of Education contact regarding Kipper’s home-schooling situation. She wants another tour once the renovation has been completed. In the meantime, she’s reviewing my financials and contacting my list of character witnesses. You should be hearing from her soon.”

“I’m glad you were assigned to Nichole Wallace,” Catherine responded. “She won’t have any bias against you as a single man, and she’ll be thorough, but fair.”

“Good, that takes care of the live chicken portion of my juggling act for today,” Stan laughed. “In other news, I’m probably going to be adding a kitchen sink to the act later this afternoon. Luz and I have a meeting with the Bronx Neighborhood Association. If they sign off on our plans, we’ll be able to start demolition on a second project for the Kaczmarek Foundation – a condemned high-rise apartment complex.”

“Oh, my goodness!” Catherine exclaimed. “You’re still mid-construction on the Juniper Street building renovation. Are you sure you’re ready to take on another project before that one’s complete?”

“You bet I am!” Stan replied. “My life is completely up in the air, and I’ve never felt more alive. I will admit, I’ll be so glad to move out of Dad’s old apartment and start enjoying the tall ceilings in that loft on Juniper. It’s going to be amazing!”

Catherine laughed, “Kipper has done nothing but talk about plans for his bedroom. Be forewarned! He’s already scheduling sleepovers with his buddies for practically every night of the week. Are you prepared to be invaded by a small army of pre-teen boys?”

“I did say it was a live chicken, didn’t I?” he responded with a grin. “They’re great kids, and they’re welcome to visit anytime, especially once I have the dining hall set up on the fifth floor. I’m not much of a cook, and I’ve seen the way they eat! I’ve already lined up one of Bill’s Army buddies to take charge of the kitchen. By the way, Green Thumb sent over their plan for the rooftop community garden. They should be able to get started next week, just as soon as all of the roof repairs and water and utility supply work have been completed. We should have some late summer vegetables to enjoy.”

“You’re really moving fast with this renovation,” Catherine replied. “Father can’t stop talking about how many Helpers you’ve been able to pull into the project.”

“Well, it helps that the building was in really good repair structurally, so we’ve been mostly occupied with the interior renovations, upgrading utilities, widening the loading dock for the grocery store, installing my private elevator, sistering-in extra support for the roof to accommodate the patio and garden, those sorts of things,” he responded. “The Bronx project will be a very different situation. That’s a condemned building, so we’ll be completely demolishing it and putting up a brand-new building. The permitting process for that alone will take quite a bit of time. But once it’s complete, it will be the official model demonstration project for the Kaczmarek Foundation’s low-income housing concept. Luz is already working with me to create a design model for us to present at a plenary session for the next National Housing Conference. Plus, it will be an excellent feature for the open house fundraiser we’re planning for the Foundation launch-week in June.”

“Wow, Stan, that’s terrific!” Catherine said. “Are you still on track to complete the Juniper Street Building renovation by June?”

“We are,” he replied. “Robinson’s Grocery probably won’t open until July when they’ll finally have inventory in place, but the free medical clinic and legal aid offices should open mid-June, and the management office should be ready to work with social services on housing contracts for the low-income apartment tenants at the same time. I plan to move into my apartment in two weeks, so I’ll already be on site, and the Foundation office should officially open in early June.”

“Well the next Board meeting should certainly be an exciting one,” she said, as she started packing up her briefcase. “I’ll look forward to it.”

“Are you on your way to a meeting?” Stan asked.

“Actually, I’ve been given the rest of the day off,” she beamed. “Joe’s taking pity on me for all of the late nights I’ve put in recently handling the third round of Interpol paperwork from the Gabriel Klein case.”

“Good for him! You still work too hard for someone who’s supposed to be keeping more reasonable hours,” Stan stated.

“Pot, kettle, Mr. I-Live-And-Breathe-Construction,” she retorted.  “At least now I know Vincent, Lucky, and I will be able to enjoy tonight’s Central Park concert.”

“Point taken,” he grinned. “How is little Miss Lucky, by the way? Rudy says her two-week check-up went well.”

Catherine grinned as she thought about her little calico rescue kitten, “She’s doing great! On work days, she spends time Below with Vincent, Mary, and the children. Father grumbles a bit, but I’ve caught him several times holding her in his lap while reading a book, the old softy! And Vincent is absolutely her favorite person.  I kinda hate bringing her back to the apartment with me in the evenings, but I need my kitty time, too!”

Stan laughed heartily. “Now you know why my Mom fed all the neighborhood strays. She adored cats. Even the most cantankerous, feral ones very quickly learned to love her. She was a natural with them.”  He paused and cleared his throat. “I often think that if she’d just had the opportunity, she would have made a wonderful veterinarian, like Rudy.”

“I’m sure she would have,” Catherine replied, patting his had softly.

Stan shrugged his shoulders with a big sigh. “Well, let me get to the purpose of my visit. Since you have the rest of the day off, I’m actually hoping I can persuade you to come look at a building with me and then maybe have a quick bite for lunch. You’ll still have plenty of time to meet Vincent and Lucky for the concert.”

“Another building?” she asked. “Are you seriously planning to take on a third project? You barely even had your 501c3 papers in hand before you and Luz were off and running with the Juniper Street project.”

“Actually, this building isn’t for the Foundation,” Stan replied. “I think it’s for you.”

Catherine stared at Stan in consternation for a moment. “What on earth would I do with a building?” she asked.

Stan just smiled. “Come take a look at it, and you’ll see.”

* * *

Father fidgeted anxiously at the access tunnel to the infirmary chamber, waiting for the work crew to arrive bringing Vincent on a stretcher. Jamie’s alert on the pipes had assured him there were no broken bones – I’ll be the judge of that! – just a bad fall from a broken ladder, leaving Vincent with some nasty bruises and a sore hip that made it too painful for him to walk.

If Vincent actually admitted to that much pain, then the bruising must be severe indeed.

Soon the work crew arrived and carried a stoic Vincent directly into the hospital chamber, where Mary was expertly preparing ice compresses and organizing bandaging materials. Father immediately set about palpating Vincent’s abdomen, checking for signs of internal hemorrhaging while Jamie described the nature of the fall.

“We were getting ready to descend the ladder that takes us from level C31 to D15,” Jamie reported. “Mouse had gone down first to set up the torches, and Vincent was going second so we could lower the tool boxes and supplies to him. He was about halfway down when one of the ladder welds broke free and swung him out away from the overhead cross bar. He held on for about 30 seconds and then just let go to jump the rest of the way down. He was able to land in a tuck-and-roll beyond the pile of boulders at the base of the ladder, otherwise, he would definitely have broken bones. But it was quite a long fall. I lowered the first aid kit to Mouse, and then we had to detour back to C25 and take the long way around and down to reach Vincent with the stretcher. Mouse had already made Vincent as comfortable as he could by the time we got there. Vincent didn’t hit his head, so there’s no concussion, and he’s been awake and lucid the entire time, but I can tell he’s in a lot of pain. He didn’t even try to stand, just held himself as still as possible while we transferred him to the stretcher. Then we hoofed it back as quick as we could without jostling him too much.”

“You’ve given him no water?” Father asked.

“None at all,” Jamie replied. “I remembered from your first aid class that we shouldn’t give anything to eat or drink if there was even the possibility of an internal injury.”

“Good girl,” Father responded, patting her shoulder. “I take it Mouse didn’t notice a problem with the ladder on his way down?”

“No, he didn’t, but he’s a good bit smaller than Vincent, and he didn’t have much light to go by,” Jamie reported. “By the time Vincent spotted the problem, it was already too late. He’d just called out to keep people off the ladder, and the weld broke the very next second. I’m glad Mouse had been able to set up several torches, otherwise Vincent never would have seen the boulders. It looks like there had been a rock slide in that section since we were last there for repairs. That’s probably what weakened the weld.”

“Why don’t you get your crew to the dining hall for some lunch, and ask Pascal to put out a call for emergency work crew volunteers to assess the rock slide and repair the ladder,” Father suggested. “You’ve already had quite a day.”

“I hope you feel better soon, Vincent,” Jamie said as she was leaving.

“Thank you, Jamie,” Vincent replied softly. “Would you have someone take a message to Catherine for me? I was planning to meet her on the balcony this evening, and then we were going to take Lucky to the music chamber for tonight’s concert in Central Park. Obviously, I won’t be able to manage that with this bruised hip. Perhaps she could come Below instead, and we could spend the evening together with Lucky.”

“I’ll go myself,” Jamie offered. “I have paperwork I need to take to her for college anyway.”

“Please, try not to alarm her,” Vincent replied, gasping as Father palpated his sore hip.

“What makes you think she doesn’t already know something’s wrong?” Jamie retorted. “I’ll be very surprised if I don’t run into her on my way Up Top.”

* * *

“Wow!” said Catherine as she admired the edifice of the Hobart Street location. “This is such a lovely building! It’s Art Deco, isn’t it?”

“That’s right, built in 1933,” Stan agreed. “It’s been well-maintained and is owned by my colleague Herb Stanfield. He’s planning an early retirement to Arizona and doesn’t want to be bothered with managing the building long distance, so he’s selling it instead. He contacted me directly because he thought I might like it for a Kaczmarek Foundation project, but Luz and I both agree the neighborhood doesn’t really need low-income housing.”

“OK, that makes sense,” she responded. “But what makes you think I need a building like this?”

“Well, let’s take a little tour, and I think you’ll see for yourself,” he replied, unlocking the building’s beautiful double doors. “The hallmark of Art Deco architecture is symmetry reflected in bold geometric patterns. So, the first two floors feature a central marble hallway separating identical size office or commercial spaces on either side. However, we’re going start our tour by taking the private elevator directly to the third floor, which is set up a bit differently.”

As soon as the elevator doors opened at the top floor, Catherine looked around and gasped. The entire top floor was a private residence, and it was gorgeous! The left side of the central marble foyer and hallway quickly revealed a cozy living room sharing a magnificent double-sided fireplace with a library/study featuring floor-to-ceiling mahogany bookshelves, followed by a formal dining room with an elegant bar-style pass-through to a well-appointed kitchen. On the other side of the hallway were two good-size guest bedrooms sharing a Jack-and-Jill bathroom, a powder room for guests, a laundry room, and a spectacular corner master bedroom suite with dramatic floor-to-ceiling windows, a large walk-in closet, and a marble master bathroom fit for a king.

“Now, if this was my building, the only changes I’d make to the residence would be to install all new appliances in the kitchen and laundry room and a more secure access code panel for the private elevator,” Stan commented. “The marble hallway is in perfect condition, and the hardwood floors in the rooms can easily be refinished, as well as the cabinetry in the study, kitchen, laundry, and bathrooms. The whole space has been freshly repainted, so there’d only be touch-up work, unless you want to change the color scheme. I could get Kanin, Cullen, and a Tunnel crew in here and have the residence completed in two to three weeks. You could move in by early to mid-June.”

“But …” she began.

“Now, now,” he interrupted. “We’re not finished with the tour. Let’s take the private elevator down to the basement, and then we’ll walk through the other two floors.”

Once they were in the basement, Stan suggested a few changes that should be made to upgrade the utilities, including a more modern heating and cooling system, and provide better security for the ten-space underground garage and small loading dock.

“Let me point out one other thing, and this is the clincher,” Stan continued. “I consulted Jacob’s maps before touring the building this morning, and I’m absolutely certain this building is located directly above an access corridor leading to the Tunnels. It’s probably about a 20-minute walk to the Hub, although that would depend on how many twists and turns would be involved. I haven’t had a chance to consult with Mouse yet. You could easily retrofit the private elevator to go all the way down into the access corridor.”

Catherine stared at Stan for a moment in shock. “You’re telling me it would be possible for Vincent and Lucky to get on the private elevator down in the access corridor and ride it all the way up to the residence without being seen.”

“Exactly,” Stan smiled. Bingo! “I still can’t believe what Vincent goes through to come visit your balcony! He told me that he rides on top of your elevator car all the way to the top floor, crawls out onto the roof, and then drops from the roof onto your balcony. Now, the man is a physical phenomenon, but how much longer will he be able to do that safely and unobserved? Ever since hearing that, I’ve been keeping my eyes peeled for a building that would provide a safe, comfortable home for you with completely private and much safer access to the Tunnels. This building is ideal. You’d even have a much shorter commute to the DA’s office.”

“But what would I do with all the rest of it?” Catherine goggled, completely overwhelmed by the tantalizing possibilities as well as the challenges inherent in taking possession of such an extensive property.

“Whatever you like,” Stan replied, as they stepped back onto the elevator to go to the second floor. “I was thinking you could put in a medical clinic on one side of the first floor, and a legal aid office on the other side. Luz said the neighborhood could use both of those services.”

“OK, I can see that,” Catherine agreed, warming up to the idea and coming up with her own. “Peter Alcott has successfully introduced one of his residents to the community Below. I bet Dr. Caldwell would love a chance to run her own small community medical clinic, and it would provide Tunnel folks with additional access to medical care. Ooh! I could do pro bono work for our Helpers through the legal aid office.”

“See, I knew you’d see the possibilities!” Stan enthused, as they stepped off the elevator into the large second floor lobby and slowly walked through the space. “Now, the second floor has four office suites, each with their own restrooms, two on each side of the central hallway. You could easily renovate this floor into a dormitory for young people from Below who are attending college or technical school or getting their first jobs or for adults who have taken jobs Above and would like a convenient place to stay during the work week. Each office would convert into two spacious bedrooms with a connecting bathroom, so you could house as many as eight people on this floor, sixteen or more if you put in bunk beds, and you’d still have plenty of space to convert the lobby area into a communal living and study space on one side and a large shared kitchen and dining area on the other. There’s space to add laundry facilities for them in the basement. Since the public spaces on the first floor only need garage access, I would add a security code panel to the public elevators limiting access to the second floor only to dormitory residents.”

“Could I have Green Thumb put in a covered rooftop patio and a garden?  It would be wonderful to have a safe outdoor space for Lucky to run around and play, and for Vincent to enjoy as well,” Catherine asked eagerly.

“I don’t see why not,” Stan replied. “It’s perfectly flat, just like the Juniper Street roof. Look, here’s the spec sheet on the building. Why don’t you think it over, and let me know if you’re interested. Herb is waiting to hear from me before he puts the building on the market, so you have some time to consider your options and talk with Vincent.”

“Thanks, Stan,” Catherine responded gratefully as they walked back to the elevator. “With everything that’s going on in your life, it’s so kind of you to think of Vincent and me this way.”

“Well, I’ll admit my motives are just a bit selfish,” he replied. “I love this building and this neighborhood because of its proximity to The Cooper Union. I walked by it every day when I went to school there. If I couldn’t find a way to make it work within the Kaczmarek Foundation’s mission, I was determined to make sure it went to someone who would put it to good use.”

As they stepped off the elevator on the ground floor, Catherine suddenly staggered back against the wall with a sharp cry, clutching her right hip in pain.

“Cathy!” Stan called out, helping her limp a few steps over to a lobby bench to catch her breath. “What’s wrong? Did you turn your ankle in those heels?”

“No, I didn’t,” she replied, suddenly realizing that the pain she’d felt wasn’t real, or more accurately, it wasn’t hers, and now it was gone, leaving behind only a lingering sense of dread. “Oh no! I have to leave, right now!”

“Wait, let’s make sure you aren’t hurt,” Stan objected.

“No, you don’t understand!” she cried. “I’m not the one who’s hurt. Vincent is!”

“What do you mean … Oh! This is that Bond communication you told me about,” Stan exclaimed. “Are you sure you’re OK?”

“Yes, I’m fine,” she replied, impatiently. “I felt a sudden pain in my right hip, but now it’s completely gone. What I do feel is shaky and worried, and like those feelings are coming from outside myself.”

“How can I help?” Stan asked.

“I need to get back to my apartment and go Below,” Catherine responded. “It’s the only way to find out what’s happened, if they even know anything. Vincent could have been by himself when he was injured, and they might not realize it. Could you please get us a cab?”

“Sure, just wait here and catch your breath,” Stan replied. “I’ll be right back.” 

Less than five minutes later, the door opened, and Stan waved her out so he could lock up the building. He walked her to the cab and ushered her inside, leaning against the door.

“I wish I could come with you, but I have that meeting at four,” he explained. “Are you sure you’ll be fine on your own?”

“Yes, I promise I’m OK,” she answered. “I’ll have Kipper bring you a message once I know what’s going on.”

“All right,” he responded, reluctantly. “Tell him I’ll be at the office. Just know that I won’t stop worrying until I hear from you.”

* * *

Catherine sat on the edge of her seat the entire way uptown to her apartment. She handed the driver more than enough to cover her fare and a generous tip and jumped out of the car. She did her best to wave nonchalantly to Freddie at the door and hurried through the lobby toward the elevators, but quickly slipped into the stairwell as soon as Freddie’s attention was diverted by a package delivery. One hurried flight down the stairs into the basement, and she passed into the storage area, assessed that she was alone, unlocked the door to her private storage space, and headed down the ladder and off into the Tunnels.

At the first pipe junction, she stopped briefly to rap out her ID code, location, and the message: On my way. Worried Vincent is hurt.

Almost immediately a return message sounded out: Jamie coming to you. Vincent hurt, but OK. Don’t worry.

Catherine stumbled to a stop and leaned against the tunnel wall, suddenly weak and clutching her crystal necklace in relief.

He’s OK. He’s injured, but he’s going to be OK.

A few minutes later, Jamie rounded the bend and gave her a brief and much needed hug. “Are you all right? Do you need me to call for help?” Jamie asked. “I know sometimes you can sense Vincent if he’s in pain.”

“No, I’m fine. There was a sudden sharp pain, probably when he was first hurt, and then he masked it,” Catherine said. “I’m just so relieved to know he wasn’t alone somewhere, needing help, and unable to ask for it.”

“He was with my work crew,” Jamie replied, as they started on their way to the Hub and the hospital chamber. “He had a bad fall off a broken ladder, and he’s pretty bruised up, especially his right hip. But no head injury, and he says no internal injuries or broken bones, although Father hadn’t examined him yet when I left to get you.”

“That’s where I felt the pain, in my right hip,” Catherine said, shaking her head. “We’ve lived with this Bond for four years now, and I’m still astonished by it, and so grateful for it.”

The two women hurried on to the infirmary, where Father and Mary were having a bit of a problem with their recalcitrant patient.

“Vincent, please, it will be much simpler and far more comfortable for you if you’d just let us cut your clothing away,” Father urged. “Mary has a nightshirt all ready for you. It will only take us a moment.”

“And I’m telling you, Father, there are no broken bones for you to set or internal injuries to concern you,” Vincent responded through gritted teeth. “I’m simply bruised and in pain and need to rest. There’s no need to jostle me around and ruin a perfectly good set of work clothes. Please, don’t fuss so.”

“Is there a problem here?” Catherine asked from the chamber entrance, as Jamie quietly left to finally get some lunch for herself.

“YES!” both men responded simultaneously, producing a chuckle from both Catherine and Mary.

Mary plucked gently at Father’s sleeve and murmured, “Vincent isn’t in any imminent danger. Why don’t we let Catherine have some time with him? I’m sure she’s worried. And you and I can spend some time with Lucky.”

Father sighed in exasperation, but allowed Mary to herd him out the door, the older woman slyly pointing out her compress preparations to Catherine behind his back.  Once they were alone, Catherine set down her briefcase and suit jacket and washed her hands before bringing a basin of warm water and a cloth to the table at Vincent’s bedside. Wordlessly, she began gently washing the dust off his face and neck. His eyes followed her every move.

“You knew,” he murmured. “I could feel your anxiety and knew you were coming here.”

She nodded. “I felt a sharp pain in my hip when you fell, then nothing but a quiet sense of dread.”

He sighed. “I abhor all the fuss whenever I’m injured. Aside from setting broken bones and suturing cuts, there’s actually very little Father can do for me. We’ve learned over time that I don’t react well to opiate pain killers, and the others do very little to counteract pain for me. Fortunately, I’ve never needed surgery.  It’s best if I can just rest and let my body heal itself.”

“Are you absolutely certain you have no broken bones or internal injuries?” she asked, as she began gently loosening the ties to his vest and shirt to wash away the dust from his upper chest.

He reached up to capture one of her hands and press a lingering kiss to her fingers.

“Yes, I’m certain. I would know,” Vincent replied in the darker tones of his second nature. “Please, don’t worry, My Love.”

“Worry comes with the territory, I’m afraid,” she smiled at him, tremulously. “I’ll make a deal with you, My Own. Let me help you get changed into a nightshirt so Father can check your bruises and satisfy his worries, otherwise neither of us will have any peace. Then, Mary can apply these ice compresses she’s so kindly prepared. You do that, and I promise to worry less and help run interference with Father.” She extended her right hand to him. “Do we have a verbal agreement?”

“Yes, counsellor,” he replied, shaking her hand. “Will you stay Below for the weekend?”

“Hmmm … I believe there’s an old saying involving wild horses?” she quipped, as she finished opening his vest and folding it aside to tackle the rest of the shirt ties. “Now, I don’t want to pull your shirttail out over that sore hip, so why don’t you get rid of that contraption you call a belt and loosen your trousers for me.”

Working together, they were able to ease Vincent’s vest and shirt off so Catherine could finish bathing his chest, back, and arms, and apply a cold compress to the large bruise on his right shoulder. Once she’d helped him pull on the nightshirt, she removed his work boots and socks. Just that bit of effort, however, had left him pale and trembling a bit in pain.

“Vincent, saving a pair of work trousers isn’t worth the price of your pain,” Catherine urged. “Let’s just cut them off and spare you the ordeal, please. Trousers can be easily replaced.”

He gave her an exhausted smile. “You know I can deny you nothing, now.”

She covered him with a light sheet and folded it back on each side just enough to safely cut down both sides of the trousers from waist to hem before folding the sheet back down to preserve his modesty. Then, with just a slight lift of his hips, she was able to draw the ruined trousers off from beneath the sheet and drop them in a discarded heap by the door. She handed him another cold compress to place against his bruised hip as she placed another on his knee, and then brushed his hair gently to remove the worst of the dust.

“I’m going to go call for Father and Mary,” she whispered, kissing his brow. “I’ll be close by, getting things set up in our chamber so you’ll be more comfortable.”

Catherine found Father and Mary conferring quietly in the library, with a contented Lucky purring softly in Father’s lap, and updated them on the status of their patient. After urging Father to keep the “fussing” to a minimum, she took possession of her little rescue kitty and continued on to Vincent’s … their… chamber, opening one side of the beautiful carved doors, and stowing away her briefcase and jacket. She left Lucky to do her usual prowl around the chamber before jumping up to take pride of place in Vincent’s big chair, while Catherine changed into some Tunnel clothes and her comfy moccasins and took a quick inventory of what might be helpful in caring for an injured Vincent. They needed a fresh pitcher of drinking water, extra glasses and tea cups, fresh linens for the bed, some extra pillows, and, her gurgling stomach reminded her, a late lunch tray for both of them, plus Lucky’s mid-day meal.

A quick stop by William’s kitchen produced the promise of a lunch tray delivered to their chamber along with the other requested kitchen supplies. After another stop by the laundry room for fresh linens and a few pillows, Catherine was soon busy stripping and making up the bed with Lucky’s “help” in anticipation of Vincent’s eventual arrival. Inspiration struck, and Catherine pulled the bed away from the wall to give her more maneuvering space to care for Vincent.  He’s gonna need a shampoo and bed bath at some point. A quick tap on the pipes sent a message summoning Kipper to their chamber, and then she spent a few minutes at Vincent’s desk with Lucky tucked up on her lap, as she composed a note for Kipper to take to Stan.  Kipper soon arrived, helping William to bring in a large lunch tray and a smaller tray with the requested water pitcher, glasses, and tea cups.

“I checked in with Father at the infirmary,” William reported. “All’s well, but Vincent wants to rest there a bit longer and let the ice compresses do their work before trying to walk back here. We’ve got Kevin and James on stand-by to help him when he’s ready to move. There’s a thermos of chicken noodle soup for him and a wrapped-up sandwich when he feels up to eating something. In the meantime, I have chicken and dumplings for you, a nice fruit salad, and some deep-dish apple pie for dessert. And, of course, a serving of Lucky’s kitten food; Little Miss is having salmon today! I’ve been informed by a certain cranky patient that you’re not to budge until you’ve eaten every bite, you hear me?”

“Hoo-yah, Corporal William,” Catherine saluted with a grin.

“It’s Oo-rah, Catherine, and that’s the Marines,” William sighed in mock despair, shaking his head. “You’ve been watching too many bad movies.”

She laughed, “Seriously, William, thanks so much. Oh, by the way, Stan mentioned that he’s hired one of your Army buddies to manage the kitchen and dining hall at his Juniper Street project. That’s terrific news!”

“Yeah, Charlie Klutz and I served together over in ‘Nam,” William replied, as he set Lucky’s food bowl on a small mat on the floor and gave the cute little calico a quick scratch and a pat. “He’s a wonderful volunteer at Sister John’s soup kitchen and a great cook, but his current diner job is pretty lousy.  Low pay, terrible menu, and the boss won’t let him make any changes. He deserves a chance to work for someone who’ll really appreciate his skills. Now, I’m serious about you eating all your lunch, young lady. Vincent’s gonna need you to be in tip-top shape. He can be a difficult patient.”

“Well, Vincent and I have a deal. He cooperates with me, and I do my best to minimize Father’s fuss and my worries,” Catherine responded, digging into her chicken and dumplings. “Oh my, William, you are a genius!”

“’Pshaw! You keep that up, and I just might send down a basket of muffins later this afternoon,” William quipped, then turned to Kipper. “You did good work today, young man. Now, I don’t want to hear that you’ve given this lady a bit of trouble. She’s got enough on her hands with an injured, stubborn Vincent.”

“Aye-aye, Corporal William,” Kipper saucily saluted.

“And that’s the Navy!” William mock-pouted, sweeping dramatically out of the chamber. “Honestly, you people are hopeless!”

Kipper and Catherine giggled helplessly, as she motioned for him to take a seat at the table and slid the basket of dinner rolls over to the constantly hungry boy.

“We really shouldn’t tease him like that,” she chortled.

“Yes, we should!” Kipper insisted with another giggle.

They munched in contented silence for a while. After Kipper had a chance to inhale two dinner rolls, Catherine handed him the folded note.

“I was touring a potential building site with Stan earlier today when Vincent fell, so he saw my reaction and knows something’s wrong,” she explained. “I promised him I’d send you with a message this afternoon once I knew what was going on. He and Luz have a four o’clock meeting at the Coalition office, so you’ll find him there. You be careful now.”

“I will,” he promised. “And don’t you worry one bit. There’s a Tunnel entrance just two blocks away from the office. I’ll be fine. Father already knows I’m having dinner with Uncle Stan this evening and staying at his Dad’s apartment. We’re getting ready for our next meeting with Ms. Wallace.”

“That’s good,” she replied. “Here, why don’t you help me with this dessert before you go. William sent enough apple pie for four people.”

“I think that’s because he knew I’d be here,” Kipper responded, helping himself to a large slice of pie and a glass of water to wash it down.

“I think you’re probably right,” she grinned.

* * *

The meeting with the Bronx Neighborhood Association went even better than Luz and Stan had expected. Their plans had been enthusiastically endorsed, plus the Association’s president had offered the organization’s help in canvassing the neighborhood to determine the kinds of community services that would be most helpful to provide as part of the project. In addition, they’d volunteered to assist with identifying other properties in the borough that might prove to be excellent sites for future Kaczmarek Foundation low-income housing projects. They also offered to make introductions for the Kaczmarek Foundation with top executives at Habitat for Humanity to share ideas and potentially form a future partnership. Luz and Stan were reviewing their notes from the meeting and determining their next steps to secure the building site when the receptionist tapped on the conference room door.

“I’m sorry to intrude, but there’s a young man at the desk who says he’s Mr. Kaczmarek’s nephew,” he stated. “A Kipper Moskowitz?”

“Oh, yes! Thanks, Jerry. Please send him right back,” Stan replied eagerly. “I’ve been expecting him.”

“Your nephew?” Luz asked. “I didn’t think you had any siblings.”

“I don’t,” Stan replied. “Kipper’s actually a ward of the state right now, until I can establish legal guardianship. I met him through the St. Francis soup kitchen program, and we got along really well right from the start. If you’ve ever wondered what a young Stan Kaczmarek might have been like, he’s about to walk through that door. You’ll see.”

Soon Kipper poked his head in and then gave Stan a blinding grin.

“Uncle Stan!” he called, hurrying across the room to give Stan a big hug.

“Hey there, Buddy!” Stan smiled, ruffling Kipper’s hair.

“Hey yourself!” Kipper scowled dramatically. “What is it with the hair already?”

“Oh, my apologies, Sir Kipper,” Stan retorted, then sobered just a bit, remembering. “Now that I think about it, it’s something my Dad used to do with me when I was a kid.” Then he brightened. “Let me introduce you to Ms. Luz Corrales, the executive director of the Fairness in Housing Coalition. This is the generous lady who made it possible for me to set up a temporary office for the Kaczmarek Foundation here until I can open the official office suite in the Juniper Street Building. Luz, this is my nephew, Christopher Moskowitz.”

Luz had been greatly enjoying the easy banter between Stan and the perky pre-teen. “It’s nice to meet you Christopher,” she nodded, reaching out to shake the boy’s hand. “How did you come by the nickname Kipper? Isn’t that a British term for herring?”

“I didn’t know that! Wait ‘til I tell the guys I named myself after a fish!” Kipper laughed. “Nah, when I was little, I had a hard time saying Christopher. It kept coming out Kipper, and pretty soon that’s what everyone called me.”

“Now, I didn’t know that,” Stan declared, looking over to Luz. “Thanks for asking the question!”

She shrugged in response. “Nicknames interest me. It’s fun to know how people come by them. Luz isn’t a nickname, but it is the Spanish word for Light.”

“Well, mine wasn’t nearly as interesting,” Stan replied. “I was Shorty for the longest time until I was around Kipper’s age and suddenly shot up six inches overnight and just kept growing. Then I was Stosh for a while, which is just the Polish nickname for Stanislaw. Not exactly original, either of them.”

“Shorty!” Kipper spluttered. “I can’t even imagine you short!”

“Well, I was,” Stan laughed, poking Kipper in the ribs. “So that means there’s still hope for you!”

“Hey!” Kipper replied, poking him right back. “I resemble that remark!” And they both laughed, while Kipper pulled Catherine’s note out of his pocket. “Here, before I forget. Cath … umm … Ms. Chandler sent you a message. Vincent’s bruised up, but OK. I saw him myself.”

“Cathy Chandler?” Luz asked. “You know Cathy Chandler?”

Stan looked up from reading the message. “Yeah, Cathy volunteers with a youth program that Kipper’s involved in. She’s helping me out with the guardianship petition.”

“Who’s Vincent?” Luz inquired, sensing something else was going on.

“He’s one of the teachers for the youth program and a mutual friend, a really great guy,” Stan replied. “I was showing Cathy the Hobart Street building earlier today. When she checked in with her office at lunch, she had a message about Vincent being injured in some sort of accident and promised to send me an update. Apparently, he fell off a ladder and injured his hip, but he’ll be fine. By the way, according to this note, she’s planning to buy the building.”

“Cathy Chandler’s buying that gorgeous building?!” Luz exclaimed.

“She sure is,” Stan grinned, happy to have deflected Luz’s attention away from Vincent. “And she likes your idea about putting in a medical clinic and a legal aid office. It’ll be the perfect set-up for her to do pro bono work.”

“Well, if we can’t have it for the Foundation, the next best thing is definitely to have one of our Board members buy it, especially someone with a real commitment to improving the lives of poor people,” Luz commented. “Whatever made you think Cathy would be interested in buying a building?”

“Just a hunch, really, based on an off-hand comment she made back when we first toured the Juniper Street building,” Stan replied. “She said she often wished she could live closer to her office. Well, now she can.”

“So, she’s going to live there, too?” Luz asked.

“Yep, she loved the residence, and it doesn’t even require much refurbishment,” Stan replied. “Two weeks of work, and she could move in. Plus, she wants to convert the second floor into free dormitory housing for kids from the youth program who are aging out of foster care and want to go to college or technical school or get jobs in the city. I knew it would be perfect for her. In fact, I’m gonna call Herb Stanfield right now, and let him know he has a buyer.”

* * *

After enjoying her lunch and seeing Kipper on his way, Catherine spent a few minutes tidying up and slightly rearranging the furniture a bit more to make it easier to care for Vincent. Leaving Lucky to her usual afternoon food coma nap on Vincent’s big chair, Catherine dropped off her lunch tray at the kitchen with a quick word of thanks to William and headed back to the infirmary with Vincent’s lunch to see how he was faring.

As soon as Father spotted her from his perch at the medical records desk, he lifted a finger to his lips and pointed over to the hospital bed where Vincent lay, softly snoring, with Mary sitting at his bedside. Father motioned for Catherine to leave the lunch with Mary and come with him to the library for an update.

“Thank you, my dear,” Father said, as Catherine helped him settle into his comfortable desk chair. “I took your advice to heart and kept my ‘fussing,’ as Vincent calls it, to a minimum. He was absolutely right about his condition, of course. There’s no sign of any internal injuries, and no discernable broken bones.”

“Well, thank heaven for small mercies,” Catherine mused. “It could have been so much worse.”

“His hip is my main concern; in fact, an X-ray might reveal a hairline fracture to the iliac crest, but there’s little to be done about that except to monitor him for fever and for him to rest and let it heal,” Father continued. “In sports medicine parlance, Vincent has a hip pointer, which is a deep bruising injury often seen in football and rugby players, as well as some slightly less severe bruising up and down his right side, mostly at the shoulder and knee. If I didn’t know better, I would’ve assumed he’d had an especially hard landing after parachuting out of an airplane. Thank goodness, he somehow managed to execute the tuck-and-roll landing taught to military paratroopers when he fell, otherwise he surely would have broken bones.”

“What kind of recovery period are we looking at?” Catherine asked as she poured them both glasses of water from the pitcher on Father’s desk. “I want be here as much as I can to help alleviate Vincent’s boredom while he’s stuck on bedrest.”

“You certainly have a way with him,” Father smiled. “He told me about your deal. Good for you! It’s hard to predict recovery times for hip pointers, and even harder to predict recovery times for Vincent. His body heals a good deal faster than most. Our main problem will be keeping him in bed to let the swelling and bruising subside and managing his restless energy. He’ll be wearing a compression bandage for some time, and we’ll keep cold compresses on the worst of the bruising for 15 minutes every hour for the rest of the day. Once he’s ambulatory, he’ll need crutches and then a cane until he can walk without pain, but the best thing he can do for the next several days is just rest. That will be our biggest challenge – getting Vincent to resist the temptation of getting up and moving about too soon.”

“Well, I’ll be here for the entire weekend, and I already have our chamber all set up for him,” Catherine responded. “Since Vincent’s sleeping, let me run over to the phone in the Peis’ basement and make a quick call to Joe to request half-days for next week. He owes me for all the extra hours I’ve been putting in on the Klein paperwork.”

“You might ask Lin to have Dr. Wong give you an extra supply of his special chamomile tea blend,” Father suggested. “It’s the one thing we’ve discovered that genuinely helps Vincent sleep. As soon as we ruled out internal injuries, Mary coaxed him into having a cup. It worked like a charm, as you just saw.”

“Good to know,” Catherine grinned. “I’ll be back soon.”

* * *

After stowing a generous supply of Dr. Wong’s special tea in their chamber and giving the rest to William for his tea supply, Catherine headed back to the infirmary. She discovered Vincent groggy, but awake, and enjoying the soup and sandwich lunch she’d left with Mary.

“Well, hello there, Sleeping Beauty,” Catherine teased him gently. “I hope your pain has eased up some.”

“Some, but not enough to contemplate walking yet,” Vincent admitted. “I may just stay here for the night,” he added apologetically.

“That’s not a problem,” Catherine replied. “I’m sure Mary and I can fix up one of these other beds for me. Lucky and I don’t mind sleeping here.”

“Yes indeed,” Mary agreed. “Let me go fetch some fresh bedding and extra pillows for Vincent. We’ll need more to support his back and help keep any weight off that hip.” And she bustled out of the chamber on her latest mission.

“You’d be much more comfortable in our chamber,” Vincent objected weakly.

“No, I’ll be much more comfortable if I can be wherever you are,” Catherine countered. “I’m actually happy to hear you’re not going to insist upon trying to walk back to our chamber right away. You need to rest your hip as much as possible. Dr. Wong says you could easily reinjure it or even tear a muscle and dislocate it if you move about too much, too soon.”

“Yes, that’s what Father says, and what my body is saying as well,” Vincent admitted, the darker growl of his second nature bleeding through. “Could I have some more of Mary’s tea, please? It helps me sleep better when I’m in pain.”

“You bet,” Catherine responded, as she removed the tea cozy, poured another cup, and added a dollop of honey. “I brought down an extra supply from Dr. Wong. I’m owed some time off at work, so I used the Peis’ basement phone to call Joe and ask for half-days next week. I figure you’ll appreciate having some company so you don’t get too bored while on bed rest.”

“You know I always want you with me,” Vincent stated. “I just wish it could be under better circumstances. Being nursed back to health isn’t exactly what I have in mind when we spend time together.”

“But it is part of having a committed relationship,” Catherine rejoined. “I know you’d take care of me if I was sick or injured, wouldn’t you?”

“I’d insist upon it, My Catherine,” he replied, finishing his cup of tea and leaning back into his pillows. “I suspect it’s about time for more ice compresses.”

“OK, I can do that,” she responded, opening the ice chest Mary had set up on a side table, removing three compresses, and helping Vincent place them on his shoulder, hip, and knee.

Mary bustled back in just as they’d settled the last of the compresses, and she and Catherine spent a few minutes making up one of the other hospital beds for Catherine’s use. Mary double-checked the placement of the compresses and then left the couple to their visit.

“Once you’re sleeping again, I’ll go fetch some books for us to enjoy this evening. I noticed you’ve been revisiting Great Expectations,” Catherine told him. “I also have some good news to share once you’re rested and feeling a bit better.”

“Hmmm …” was the only reply she received, as Vincent drifted off into a healing sleep.

* * *

“Soooooo, Ms. Corrales seems really nice,” Kipper ventured, as he and Stan enjoyed their take-out dinner from Lin and Henry Pei’s restaurant, sitting at the tiny kitchen table in Stan’s Dad’s apartment.

Luz had actually spent a good bit of time visiting with Stan and Kipper before her Coalition work called her away. She’d proven to be an ardent baseball fan, and wonder of wonders, a die-hard Mets enthusiast. Kipper had quickly charmed her with his thoughts on various players and exaggerated tales about his newly acquired skateboarding skills, all while demolishing two doughnuts, a banana, and a glass of water for a late afternoon snack.

“Yes, Ms. Corrales is very nice,” Stan agreed, eyeing the boy. “She’s also extremely bright and frighteningly observant, just like you. You should keep that in mind whenever you talk with her. You saw how she honed right in on you mentioning Cathy and Vincent. She makes connections quickly, and she doesn’t miss a thing.”

“Oh. Well, never mind then,” Kipper replied, disappointed. “I was going to suggest offering her Vincent’s spot at the next Mets home game, since she’s such a big fan. He won’t be able to come to the games until his hip heals up.”

Stan sighed, “I thought about that too, but then she’d have questions about all the other people attending the game in my Skybox. ‘Where did you meet them? Why are they so oddly dressed? Why do they all call the old man Father?’ Like I said, she doesn’t miss anything.”

Kipper nodded and continued inhaling his sweet and sour chicken.

“Slow down, Buddy,” Stan gently instructed. “Your stomach will appreciate it if you actually chew your food a bit longer.”

“You sound just like William.” Another gigantic bite of food. “And Mary.” More food. “And Father,” Kipper groused.

Stan laughed a bit longer at the addition of each successive name and mouthful. “Let me guess. And Vincent,” he retorted.

“And Catherine,” Kipper giggled, then slurped down the rest of his milk. A pause. “You like her, don’t you?”

“Cathy?” Stan asked. “You know I’m in love with Cathy. I’m working on getting over her, but I’ll probably always love her to some extent.”

“Yeah, I know,” Kipper replied. “But I was talking about Luz, um, Ms. Corrales.”

Stan paused, puzzled, and gave Kipper a long look. “Well, yeah, I do like Luz,” he responded, carefully. “I’ve certainly given her plenty of reasons to thoroughly dislike me. But she’s been kind enough to hear me out, just like you did, and we’ve been able to find a way to work together pretty amicably. So, yeah, I like her. More importantly, I respect her.”

“OK, but do you like her, like her?” Kipper asked.

“Whoa, where is this coming from?” Stan wondered. “Are you actually asking me girl stuff? You’ve just met the lady, Kipper. And I’m barely back in her good graces. Plus, we work together, and dating a colleague is generally not a good idea.”

“All right already!” Kipper replied. “I get it! I get it! … But she sure is smart … and pretty.”

“Kipper!”

“I’m just sayin’ … you should think about it …”

* * *

“You’re planning to buy … a building?” Vincent asked, stunned, as he snuggled a purring Lucky against his uninjured side.

He’d managed to nap for most of the afternoon, and the three of them had enjoyed a hearty dinner together before Catherine shared her news about touring the Hobart Street building with Stan.

“I was just as shocked as you are when Stan made the suggestion,” Catherine replied. “But this building is amazing, and it actually solves several problems for me. Plus, it’ll make our life together so much easier.”

Vincent stared at her for a moment and then drew in a deep breath. “All right, I’m listening,” he said. “What would be the purpose of the building? What problems would it solve for you?”

“The biggest problem I have right now is safe and private access to the Tunnels for both of us from my apartment Above,” Catherine responded. “This building will solve that problem beautifully. The entire top floor is a gorgeous residence with its own secure private elevator all the way to the basement. Stan says the building is located directly above an access corridor to the Tunnels, and the elevator could be extended down into the corridor. Think of it, Vincent! You could simply step into the elevator and ride it directly up to the residence without anyone seeing you. No more dropping down onto my balcony from the roof. I was already strongly tempted to buy the building after the tour, but this injury sealed the deal. I don’t want you endangering yourself anymore just to come visit me Above.”

“So, you would plan to live there?” Vincent asked. “Is the neighborhood safe?”

“Yes, it’s a beautiful neighborhood with a community park close to the Cooper Union campus where Jamie plans to go to college,” Catherine replied. “Also, it’s much closer to the DA’s office than my uptown apartment and 10 minutes closer to the Hub. I’ve been thinking about finding an apartment closer to the office for some time now, except Tunnel access would always be an issue. Plus, this building gives me the opportunity to do some wonderful things for the neighborhood and for the Tunnel community.”

She showed Vincent the spec sheet for the building and described Stan’s suggestions about the medical clinic, the legal aid office, and the second-floor dormitory, as well as her plans for a covered rooftop patio and a garden.

Vincent sighed, “This sounds incredible. Lucky would love the patio and garden, and it would be so much easier for you to drop her off Below before you go to work. Someone could just meet you at the elevator for the exchange. I just wish I could go see the building myself.”

“I wish you could too,” Catherine replied. “I want to take Mouse, Kanin, and Cullen to see it right away, and we’ll be sure to take lots of photos for you. I’ve asked Stan to bring me a copy of the current blueprints so we can start talking with Kanin, Cullen, and our Helpers about renovations.”

“Are you certain this is what you want, My Love?” Vincent asked. “Your father helped you acquire your current apartment, and you’ve lived there for years. You must have so many memories attached to it. Are you sure you’re ready to give up your home?”

Catherine laughed, “My apartment has increasingly become just a place to keep my clothes and sleep and maybe occasionally eat. It’s nice, but it’s more like a hotel suite than a home. You’ve never been comfortable there, other than on the balcony, and it certainly isn’t safe. Besides, my home isn’t a place. It’s you. What we have is worth everything, remember? This building would give me a chance to create a real home for us to share Above, just as we share a chamber Below. A place where you could safely come and go as often as you like no matter the time of day or night. And instead of a tiny balcony, we’d have a covered patio and an entire rooftop garden to enjoy. So yes, I’m very certain this is what I want. I think we could build a happy life for ourselves there Above and here Below.”

Vincent mulled her response over for a moment and then made several aborted attempts to ask a question.

“Vincent, please just say whatever you’re thinking,” Catherine eventually urged. “You can ask me anything. This is an important decision, and I want you to be part of it.”

“I … I’m well aware you are a wealthy woman, My Love, and I applaud your exceptionally generous plans for how this building could benefit people both Above and Below,” he replied after a few moments. “But surely this building will be an exorbitantly expensive acquisition, including all the renovations you have planned. I just need to be assured this project is within your means. I don’t want you to sacrifice your opportunities to travel the world or purchase art or do other things you might have planned to do with your inheritance and investments, or to jeopardize your retirement.”

Catherine smiled and shook her head. “My Own, you’re so sweet to be concerned, but I’m in a very comfortable position to buy this building and several others if I wished,” she replied. “Even after folding over the trust I received from my mother into the Margaret Chase Charitable Trust, I still have my father’s estate and investments, his apartment, our family home on the Upper West Side and our vacation cottage in Connecticut, Dad’s partnership equity in the Chandler & Coolidge law firm, my apartment, my own investments, and my salary from the DA’s office. Plus, my aunt has left me yet another sizeable and completely unexpected inheritance, which alone will be more than enough to purchase and renovate the building. Apparently, she was impressed with my ‘civic-minded decision to leave corporate law and work for the District Attorney of New York City.’ I was so surprised to hear that when they read her will. She’d never said a word to me about it.”

Vincent just goggled at her, stupefied by this revelation.

“Vincent … Vincent? … Vincent, are you all right?”

Finally, he swallowed, cleared his throat, and hoarsely replied, “My stars, I had no idea!”

“Yeah, when they coined the phrase ‘an embarrassment of riches,’ I believe they were thinking about me,” she replied. “But you really don’t need to be worried about the cost. I’m actually quite excited to put my aunt’s bequest to good use. I think she’d love what I’m planning to do with the building, especially since I’ll be calling upon the services of Green Thumb for the rooftop garden.”

“Well, as I’ve always counselled the people I love, you should follow your heart, Catherine. If this is truly what you want, of course you have my full support. Your next step will be to talk with Father about your plans and have him get the Council’s approval for your private threshold, but that shouldn’t be a problem,” Vincent responded, his brain finally re-engaging after processing the shocking news about the extent of Catherine’s wealth. “I’m sure he’ll have recommendations regarding Helpers you could contract for portions of the renovations that would be beyond the skill of our Tunnel workers, such as extending the elevator into the access corridor. You’re also going to need a good building manager, maintenance staff, and security services as well, and they’ll need to be people who know about the Tunnels. You should probably talk with Albert Johnson about that.”

Catherine immediately began making notes. “Once I have young people from the Tunnels living in the dormitory, I’ll also need at least one chaperone, plus someone to manage the communal kitchen, and I’ll set up an account with Robinson’s Grocery to keep the kitchen and cleaning supplies stocked,” she commented. “Dorm residents will be expected to clean their own rooms and bathrooms and clean up after themselves in the kitchen, but they’ll need supervision.”

“This is going to be quite an undertaking, Catherine,” Vincent replied. “You’ll have staff to manage.”

“Well, managing building staff will be part of the building manager’s job. But still, isn’t it exciting?!” she responded. “I think I understand how Stan feels when he talks about juggling three oranges, an anvil, a live chicken, a chainsaw, and a kitchen sink, and never feeling more alive in his life. By the way, apparently Kipper is the live chicken.”

Vincent laughed, “I’d guess closing out his extensive corporate holdings is the anvil and the new foundation is the chainsaw. I wonder what the three oranges represent.”

“Who knows?” Catherine giggled. “Probably things in his personal life, like his Dad’s apartment and the Manhattan penthouse and his manor house in Scarsdale. I know the kitchen sink is this new project he and Luz are planning to start in the Bronx. He’s also offered to consult with me on the architectural layout for my building.”

“He certainly did an amazing job redesigning and directing the renovation of Father’s library after Kipper’s accident, even in the midst of all his planning for the Juniper Street building. The man does seem to thrive on being busy,” Vincent sighed. “I know how he feels. I get restless when I don’t have a physical outlet for my energy, and I despise being injured!”

“We’ll just have to come up with interesting ways to keep you occupied while you heal,” Catherine assured him. “You could take on some extra classes from Father starting on Monday and just have the children report to our chamber for their lessons. That will fill up your mornings while I’m at work.”

Vincent attempted a reply, but suddenly yawned instead.

“Looks like your latest cup of tea is doing its job,” Catherine smiled, brushing his hair back from his forehead. “Plus, it’s time to remove those compresses and make you comfortable for the night.”

She cleared away the dinner tray, removed the compresses to the basin Mary had left for them, and replaced the pillows at Vincent’s back to help keep his hip elevated.

“I’m going to go change for bed, let Miss Lucky use her litter pan, and I’ll be right back,” she whispered, gathering up the kitten. “I wouldn’t be too surprised if Father comes in to check on you soon.”

“Hmmm … I can’t promise I’ll be awake,” Vincent murmured.

* * *

The next morning, after sharing a hearty breakfast with Vincent and Lucky and cajoling him into cooperating with Father’s need to check on the progress of his injuries, Catherine asked the older man to stay for a visit and shared with him her plans to buy the Hobart Street building.

Father examined the building’s spec sheet for a few minutes and then reached over to place a palm across Catherine’s brow.

“It’s just as I feared,” he proclaimed, dramatically. “You’ve caught Building Acquisition Fever from Stan Kaczmarek. I’m afraid there’s no cure.”

Catherine chuckled, “So you’ll help me? I want all of the renovations to be implemented by Tunnel workers and Helpers and to hire Helpers or former Tunnel dwellers as staff and service providers. I thought maybe Sharon Caldwell would like to take on running the medical clinic. She’s young, but I think she’s up for the challenge, and she’d have wonderful advice from Peter and you.”

“Catherine, your plans are marvelous and exceptionally generous,” Father stated. “Are you certain you can manage this financially?”

“Asked and answered, Father,” Vincent replied. “I don’t think you want to know the true extent of Catherine’s wealth. I’m still recovering from the shock. Let’s just say, you don’t need to worry.”

“There will be significant tax advantages to utilizing the first two floors for community service projects, and I plan to do pro bono work for Helpers through the legal aid office,” Catherine stated, “But my primary motive for purchasing the building is to establish a home Above – for us – that Vincent and other Tunnel members could visit in complete safety. I’ve wanted to do this for a long time, but I just didn’t think it would be possible, and I’m so grateful to Stan for thinking of me when he heard about this building.”

“I’ll present your request for a private threshold for the building to the Council, but I’m certain they’ll have no problems granting permission,” Father said. “I’d like to see it for myself. Would it be possible for me to accompany you and Stan when you take Kanin, Mouse, and Cullen for an inspection tour later this morning?”

“I don’t see why not,” Catherine replied. “The utilities are all turned on, and the elevators are in perfect working condition. You’d have no problems getting around, and Stan’s already planning to send a car to pick us up.”

Vincent sighed, a bit petulantly, “I wish I could go too.”

“Stan’s bringing his best camera, and we’ll get the photos developed at a one-hour shop before we come back,” Catherine promised. “I’ll be able to share them with you this afternoon.”

“Well then, before you leave, I’d like to get settled back in our chamber,” Vincent replied. “I think I should be able to walk that far with some help.”

Father fussed a bit, of course, but Catherine soon had Kevin and James come to help support Vincent. Walking proved to be out of the question for him, but Kevin suggested a chair-assisted fireman’s carry, and soon they had Vincent transported back to his chamber without his feet ever touching the ground.

Vincent was infinitely grateful to be returned to the comfort and privacy of his familiar chamber, but by the time Catherine had him settled in bed with proper support for his back and hip, a purring Lucky at his side, and a fresh cup of Dr. Wong’s tea, he was completely exhausted. She sat with him, gently stroking his hair, until he fell asleep. Then she quietly dressed for her errands Above, leaving a copy of Shakespeare’s Sonnets on his bedside table and summoning Brooke to sit with Vincent and provide any care he might need in her absence.

* * *

When Catherine, Stan, and the Tunnel party returned, they learned Vincent had already eaten some lunch and was once again sound asleep. Brooke reported that Vincent and Lucky had enjoyed a pleasant visit with some of the older children during the morning, but he’d tired quickly and spent most of the morning napping.

At Catherine’s suggestion, the group congregated around the Council table for a late lunch, so Father could sit in a more comfortable chair after a long morning on his feet. They eagerly discussed the results of their inspection tour during lunch, and then rolled out the blueprints Stan had brought with him after the dishes had been cleared. They compared the drawings with their on-site measurements and began creating a renovation plan, including the roof, elevator, and utilities upgrades, refurbishment of the third-floor residence, and renovation of the first-floor office suites and the second-floor dormitory.

“Tunnel access is easy,” piped Mouse after a big slurp of milk. “Stan is right. Just dig out and elevator can go straight down, down, down to the Tunnel. Mouse will go find best walk to the Hub after lunch. Much shorter than from Catherine’s apartment.”

“Cathy, you’re going to need some new furniture for the residence,” Stan noted. “Your apartment furnishings are lovely, but they just don’t match the atmosphere and style of this building.”

“Oh, I already have a plan for that,” Catherine responded. “I strongly suspect I’ll be able to set up a rent-to-buy agreement for my apartment and all of its furnishings with my friend Jenny Aronson. She lives in Brooklyn Heights and has always wanted a place in Manhattan but could never afford it. The only piece of furniture I want to bring from the apartment is my mother’s dressing table. Oh, and the red and white hybrid rose bush from my patio! I want that for the rooftop garden.”

“You’re gonna have a lot of shopping to do,” Cullen stated. “You’ve got three bedrooms to furnish, not to mention all the other rooms.”

“You’ve never seen my parents’ home on the Upper West Side,” Catherine smiled, a little sadly. “I had originally hoped to live there, if a way could be found to establish a threshold in the basement, but sadly it’s just not feasible. After Dad passed away, I received a generous offer from one of my cousins to buy the brownstone, but I haven’t been able to face clearing out the house or his downtown apartment yet.”

“Are there family pieces you’d like to bring into the residence once it’s ready?” Stan asked gently.

“Practically the entire house!” Catherine laughed. “What I don’t need for the residence can be used to help furnish the dormitory or brought Below. Dad bought all new furniture for his apartment, so I think I’ll just pack up his personal belongings and either sell or rent it completely furnished to some Wall Street executive. It’s time.”

“We can help you move,” Cullen offered. “We have Helpers who own a moving company, so getting a truck won’t be a problem. Or we could borrow one of Dominic’s trucks.”

“Cathy, you and I should talk to Albert Johnson later today or tomorrow, if possible,” Stan chimed in. “The building needs to be secured as soon as you take possession of it, and Herb Stanfield is willing to close on the building as early as this Tuesday. Unfortunately, unsecured renovation properties are hot spots for thieves, and I certainly don’t want you living there alone without an established security system and a team on the premises to monitor the doors, lobby, and stairwells.”

“I’ll get a message off to Albert and invite him to bring his family Below for lunch tomorrow after their church services,” Father suggested. “He’ll have excellent advice about proper security and staffing for your building. His eldest son, Marlon, is probably more than ready to branch out on his own as a security specialist.”

“How quickly do you think we could have the second floor dormitory ready for occupancy?” Kanin asked.

“The first and second floors will probably require another two to three weeks work after we’ve finished the residence,” said Stan. “That’s mostly because of all the new plumbing and electrical work we’ll need to do on those floors. Once that’s complete, it’s just sheet rock, paint, cabinetry, appliances, and the three Fs – flooring, fixtures, and finishing work. If we concentrate on the second floor first, it could be ready one week after Cathy moves in.”

“Catherine, I know you were thinking about using the dorm mostly for our young people heading off to college or to their first jobs, but we don’t have many of them yet,” Kanin continued. “Just Michael, who’s already settled in a dorm on campus; Brooke, who doesn’t want to live Above; and I believe Mouse and Jamie would probably prefer the extra privacy of the Peis’ apartment, even though Catherine’s building is much closer to the Cooper Union campus. But what about Dwayne and Mildred Pearson? Dwayne recently got a job driving a city bus and would probably appreciate living Above again and having an easier route to work. And Mildred would be a great choice to help supervise the dormitory and manage the kitchen for you. If they say yes, they could move in as soon as the second floor is ready and furnished. Then you wouldn’t be living there alone at night except for building security. And you know they both love Lucky, so they could look after her on days you can’t bring her Below.”

“I think that’s a wonderful idea, Kanin, and I definitely had planned to make the dormitory an option for Tunnel residents who have jobs Above, in addition to our young people,” Catherine replied. “Perhaps even some of my building staff would want to live on premises. Father, perhaps we could announce my building plans at dinner tonight and see who might be interested in utilizing the dormitory space on a full- or part-time basis. Depending upon the response, we might want to make different choices about how to renovate the second floor to create more private spaces for adults.”

Father readily agreed, and the group spent some time discussing potential floor layout options for the dormitory, medical clinic, and legal aid office.

“Let me see if Peter and Sharon could come to dinner this evening,” Father suggested. “They’ll have a much better idea about the equipment and storage space needed for a modern medical clinic. It’s been long enough that my knowledge is theoretical at best.”

At that point, Brooke came into the library with word that Vincent was awake and asking for Catherine.

“Well, I should probably check on my patient,” Father stated, as Catherine helped him to his feet. “Then, I believe I require a nice long soak in the bathing pool and a nap after all the walking I’ve done today. Stan, please feel free to continue your discussions with Kanin, Cullen, and Mouse here, and of course, you’re most welcome to stay for dinner. Brooke, would you call for runners to take messages from me to Albert, Peter, and Sharon, please?”

* * *

Father’s check-up examination was mercifully short, mostly consisting of head-shaking and marveling over how quickly Vincent’s bruises were healing. He stayed for another half-hour to pet Lucky a bit and share in Vincent’s delight over the photographs Catherine and Stan had taken during the building tour that morning and to help her summarize the plans that had been made so far and answer Vincent’s many questions. Soon, however, Father’s weariness and stiffness began to catch up with him, and he left to call for Kevin to come help him get in and out of the bathing pool safely.

Once Father was out of earshot, Vincent sighed. “Normally, that would be my task,” he commented.

“Perhaps, but Father has needed to ask others to help him before when you were away visiting with Narcissa or working on extended projects in the deeper tunnels or going to the Crystal Cavern,” Catherine replied, as she put out Lucky’s afternoon snack. “Besides, I’ve been away all morning, and now it’s my turn to help Lucky monopolize your time.”

“Oh, and how do you propose to occupy me this afternoon, My Catherine?” he insinuated with a cheeky smirk.

“Well, I don’t know,” she replied, innocently, kissing his cheek and carding her fingers through his still dusty hair. “I suspect you’ll need a shampoo and conditioning treatment, followed by a thorough sponge bath at the very least.”

“…”

“Vincent … Vincent? … Vincent, are you all right?”

He blinked and cleared his throat. “Umm … yes, I’m fine,” he rasped. “Perhaps some water, please?”

Catherine did her best not to giggle as she complied with his request. “Don’t worry, I was just teasing you a bit.”

He downed the water in one long continuous gulp and then blew out a slightly shaky breath. “Well, I suppose a sponge bath would be somewhat the reverse of our previous intimate experience together, wouldn’t it? I won’t be able to manage getting in and out of the bathing pool for at least another day or two, plus I doubt Father would want me to put these bruises in hot water today.”

“…”

“Catherine?”

“Ummm … I wasn’t sure when you might be ready to talk about that beautiful afternoon,” she murmured. “I think about it all the time. Relive it.”

“I do as well,” he admitted, blushing. “I’ve been thinking it might be time to share myself with you in a similar way, if you wish. A sponge bath would be a caring and loving way to do so. And since I’m injured, I’ll be less likely to … lose control.”

“Oh, Vincent,” she whispered, kissing his hand and holding it against her cheek. “Sometimes losing control is a good thing. In an intimate setting, ultimately, letting go and losing control is pretty much the point.”

“That’s not what I mean,” he objected gently. “Right now, I need to understand and always be aware of what is happening inside me in order to trust my motivations regarding you. I need to know, when all these feelings and desires come pouring out of me, that I will still have your wellbeing foremost in my mind. That thought can never come second to the pursuit of the mindlessness of pleasure.”

“Well, then think about this,” she countered gently. “The last time we were together, you didn’t lose control. I did. It took me completely by surprise, and our Bond pulled you with me. But were you really mindless?”

“Consumed by bliss,” he responded after a moment of reflection. “Wordless, but words had flown long before that rapturous moment. Perhaps behaving more … instinctively than deliberatively. But you’re right. I wasn’t completely unaware of my actions.”

“That’s right,” she agreed. “You may have been too overwhelmed with emotion and desire for words, but you were in complete control of yourself until suddenly I wasn’t. And even in those unexpected, sublime moments, you never once even came close to harming me. I think here, in the privacy of our chamber, you can trust yourself enough to let me care for you and allow yourself to take pleasure in being touched by the woman you love.”

She grinned suddenly and whispered in his ear, “I’ll tell you a secret. Pleasure is a wonderful pain reliever, and you’ll sleep beautifully afterward. I promise.”

He chuffed out a surprised laugh. “Well, something to look forward to, then.”

“We’ll give Father some time for his soak in the bathing pool first,” Catherine said. “I’ll need bathing supplies, and I’m not about to barge in on Father to collect them! He’s had a workout today and deserves some time to relax.”

That earned her a rare genuine belly-laugh from Vincent, and she grinned, so happy to know they could talk more openly about their intimate life together. Lucky scrambled back up onto the bed after finishing her snack, and Vincent scooped her onto his chest for her customary afternoon nap and gestured for Catherine to come snuggle against his uninjured side so they could pass the time together looking through the photos she’d taken of the third-floor residence in greater detail. She described for him the furniture she wanted to bring in from her parents’ home, especially the beautiful desk and all the law books from her Dad’s home office, and asked about pieces he might want to bring from Below to help furnish their home Above.

“There are some things I would like to contribute,” Vincent murmured after a moment’s thought. “You mentioned wanting to use your parents’ bedroom furniture in one of the guest bedrooms and your childhood furniture in the other, but you’ve said nothing about the master bedroom, other than your mother’s dressing table.”

“I love Mom and Dad’s bedroom furniture, but the bed is only queen-size, and I know you’d be more comfortable in a king-size bed,” Catherine responded. “Dad did buy a king-size bed for his apartment, but it’s very modern minimalist and won’t suit the style of the residence at all. I’d planned to bring some furniture catalogs and photos so we could choose our bedroom furniture together.”

“I believe we may have the perfect pieces for our bedroom here in our storage chambers,” Vincent replied. “I know there’s a beautiful king-size bedframe we received from a wealthy Helper’s estate, plus a dresser and chest of drawers. Perhaps Cullen could take you ‘shopping’ in our storage chambers after dinner. He’ll know which pieces I have in mind. They’ll need to be refinished a bit, but all you’d need to do is purchase a new mattress set and linens for the bed.”

“That sounds lovely,” Catherine responded. “I want this home to be something we create together.”

Just then, the beautiful mantel clock Catherine had given Vincent for their third anniversary chimed three times.  Three o’clock in the afternoon.

“I believe I would also like to move our anniversary clock to the fireplace mantel in the living room,” Vincent stated.  “The other pieces in my so-called clock collection should remain Below because they may be missed by the givers.  But that clock is a promise we made to each other – to set aside private time to be together – one we’re still working to fulfill.  I think it should definitely take its place in the home we’re creating for ourselves Above.”

Catherine kissed him gently and murmured, “Consider that an agreement sealed with a kiss. Please think about other items you’d like to bring into our home Above. Maybe Lady Justice? I’ve always liked her.”

“Hmmm,” he replied. “A nice addition to the study, especially one intended for you, Madam Assistant District Attorney. I’ll give the matter some more thought – later. I heard Kevin helping Father out of the bathing pool a while ago. All is quiet now.”

* * *

Kipper raced around the last of the tables in the dining hall, scrubbing the surface briskly with a wet cloth and depositing the crumbs in a saucer held just under the edge.

“OK, William,” Kipper announced.  “That’s the last of the tables.  Anything else, or am I done with lunchtime kitchen duty?”

William peeked up from resetting the clean hot beverage thermos in its stand.  The tables were all cleared, and he could tell the boy was fairly vibrating to get out of the dining hall and go see his Uncle Stan.

“All right, young man,” William replied.  “I officially declare you off duty until kitchen clean-up after dinner.”

“Aye-aye, Corporal William,” Kipper saluted with a smirk and turned to race out of the hall.

“HOLD IT!” shouted William.

Kipper skidded to a stop and glanced back at the portly cook, who was giving him what his late Mom would have called “the hairy eyeball.”  William crooked a finger to summon the pert pre-teen back to his side.

“All right, I can see that you still require some education, young man,” William declared, as Kipper crept over to stand in front of him. “Listen carefully. HOO-ah!”

Kipper’s eyebrows shot up. “What?” he whispered, a bit taken aback.

“In the Army, the response is Hoo-ah, not Aye-aye, not Hoo-Hah, or Oo-Rah, or any other such nonsense you might have picked up from the movies,” William answered. “Think you can remember that, Private Moskowitz?”

Kipper cracked a big grin, “HOO-ah, Corporal William!  I can do that.”

“All right, then. DIIIIIIIIIIIIS-missed!” William barked, pointing out the chamber entry, and Kipper took off at a run.  “And no running in the Tunnels!”

“Aye-aye, Corporal William,” came the saucy call down the Tunnel.

William laughed in spite of himself.  These kids! They make my hair gray and keep me young at the same time.

Kipper giggled as he raced down the Tunnel toward the library where he knew Uncle Stan had been meeting with Father and the group of Tunnel folk who had been gone all morning with Catherine to look at some building. 

ANOTHER building!  He still hasn’t finished the Juniper Street building with the new loft apartment for the two of us.  And then there’s that high-rise project in the Bronx. How does he keep up with all of it? …  Will he still have time for me? … Maybe he doesn’t … want … to have time for me?

Kipper slowed to a halt and stealthily peeked into the library, where he could see that Uncle Stan’s meeting was breaking up. Catherine and Father were already gone, and Uncle Stan was sharing handshakes with Kanin, Cullen, and Mouse, who mumbled, “OK good, OK fine. Mouse will check out the walk to the Hub from Catherine’s building right now,” before scurrying out the door so quickly he didn’t even notice Kipper.

But Stan saw him and immediately lit up with a broad grin. “Kipper! There you are! Come look at these building plans before I roll them back up.”

Kipper sauntered toward the council table, replying, “I heard Mouse saying something about this being Catherine’s building. Are you doing something to her apartment?”

“Not at all,” Stan responded. “It turns out the building over by The Cooper Union that Luz and I looked at this morning would be a perfect new home for Cathy. Here, look at the plans. She’ll live in the top floor residence after we’ve extended the private elevator down into the access tunnel so Vincent can ride up unobserved. It’ll be so much safer for Vincent and Cathy than her current apartment. Then we’ll be renovating the second floor into a dormitory for Tunnel kids studying Above and adults with Topside jobs, and the first floor into a medical clinic and legal aid service.”

“Sounds cool,” Kipper replied offhandedly.

Stan looked Kipper over a bit. Something was off. “Hey, Buddy, is everything OK?”

“Oh, yeah, I’m fine,” Kipper answered, still subdued. “I just … I don’t see how … how you’re gonna have time for all of this … and for me. I mean, Juniper Street isn’t finished yet, and you and Luz have that new Bronx project, and now this building for Catherine. It just sounds like a LOT …”

Stan pulled the boy in for a big hug. “Thanks for telling me this, Kipper,” he replied, kneeling down so he could look Kipper right in the eye. “I always want you to talk to me when something’s bothering you, OK? Remember what Ms. Wallace keeps saying – Communication is vital to setting up the guardianship and building our relationship as nephew and uncle. But everything’s going to be good, I promise. Three projects? That’s nothing for me! I’m used to having a half dozen projects the size of the Bronx building going all at the same time. I have an excellent foreman in charge of Juniper Street, so I only need to check in every now and then. In fact, I’m moving into the loft in two weeks, so our next dinner Up Top will probably be the last one in my Dad’s apartment. The Bronx project will be in the hands of a demolition crew for at least a month, if not longer, so I’ll have plenty of time to handle Cathy’s new building. You’re going to see me every bit as much if not MORE than you do right now, OK? You could join my work crew, if you like! And even if I do get really busy, I will always make time for you. YOU are the most important person in my life. You do know that, don’t you?”

Kipper nodded his head eagerly and then suddenly threw his arms around Stan’s neck and burst into tears, and Stan hugged him right back.  “Oh, Buddy,” Stan murmured, “I thought you knew.”

“I did, sort of,” Kipper snuffled into Stan’s neck. “But sometimes, I think I’m dreaming … or just fooling myself. I mean … you’re a big shot, and I’m nobody.”

Stan rocked Kipper slowly back and forth. “Oh, you are FAR from nobody, Christopher Moskowitz,” Stan whispered into Kipper’s ear. “You burst into my life and somehow patched up a great big hole in my heart. And before you say it, NO, it’s not the hole created when I lost Cathy. I’ve known about that one for quite a while. Yours is a place that was quietly waiting just for you, and I never even guessed it existed until you knocked me down and dragged me into an alley.”

“Aloneness,” whispered Kipper. “That’s Vincent’s word for it. He says Catherine ended his Aloneness.”

Aloneness. The word reverberated through Stan’s mind and something in his chest eased.

“Yeah,” he whispered back in a choked voice. “Yeah, that’s exactly it.”

“Me, too,” Kipper replied with a sigh.

* * *

Catherine returned from the bathing chamber, arms laden with towels and grooming supplies, to find Vincent softly petting a slumbering Lucky who was still firmly ensconced upon his chest – her favorite spot.

Mine, too, thought Catherine with a grin.

Vincent raised a brow and pointed to his little guest. “I appear to be occupied,” he whispered with a smile.

Catherine giggled as she deposited her supplies on the table and joined him in petting the little calico kitten. “Dr. Rudy says she’s put on a full pound in two weeks,” Catherine whispered. “Just what we were hoping for. Let me see if I can relocate her to your chair, her second favorite place.”

Lucky gurgled a sleepy “Mew” upon being lifted away from Vincent’s chest, but she settled happily in the chair, kneaded the cushion just a bit, and then continued snoozing. After observing the kitten for a few minutes, Catherine gave Vincent the double thumbs-up, added two firesticks to the brazier to warm the chamber some more in preparation for Vincent’s bath, and quietly began organizing her supplies.

With Vincent’s assistance, she removed most of the pillows from the bed, leaving only the two small pillows keeping his hip elevated, and helped him remove his nightshirt and shift up to the top of the bed, where she’d positioned a small table supporting a basin of warm water. Vincent pulled the pooled sheet from his lap up to mid-chest, while Catherine spread a folded plastic table cloth and then a thick towel under his head and upper back to protect the bed linens, and encouraged him to lean his head back into the basin. With a large plastic measuring cup, she carefully wet his hair and began treating him to a thorough shampoo and scalp massage.

Vincent’s deep, appreciative purr soon filled the room. After a while, sultry dark eyes with just the barest rim of blue opened and observed Catherine intently, and when she caught his glance, he openly winked at her, the purr unbroken.

“I know you,” she whispered.

“Yes, My Catherine,” answered Vincent with the rasp of his second nature. “This is who I’ve always been.” The purr resumed and deepened.

“Just restrained to be less, to be more … acceptable,” she sighed. “Caged by your upbringing.”

“Don’t blame Father,” the deep voice sighed. “He did his best.”

“I know, trial and error,” she replied, then grinned. “I don’t think his pediatric medical texts were written with you in mind, were they?”

“No,” Vincent smiled. “Not for something that has never been.”

“Someone, not something,” Catherine insisted.

“Yes, someone,” he agreed. “Someone who loves you with every ounce, with every sinew of my being.” A large hand drew her slowly down for a deep, lingering kiss. The purr rumbled on as Catherine continued kneading his scalp throughout the kiss.

At last, Vincent reluctantly released Catherine so she could rinse the shampoo out of his hair.

“I’m gonna need a fresh basin of water,” Catherine said, giving him a pert kiss on the end of his nose while wrapping his wet hair in a towel. “Don’t go anywhere,” she teased. “I’ll be right back.”

“I’m all yours,” Vincent replied, running a possessive hand down her back. “All of me.”  And he stroked her back a final time, ending with a light, teasing pinch to her rounded derriere.

Catherine flinched a bit in surprise, gaped a smidge at Vincent’s rather smug grin, and then lit up with a broad smile and a hearty chuckle. “I think I like this somewhat naughty side of you, My Own,” she giggled.

Vincent blushed just a bit, “To quote one of Cullen’s favorite sayings, ‘Fake it ‘til you make it,’” Vincent responded, then purred. “I have so many … thoughts … Catherine … dreams…”

“Oh, so do I,” she replied. “We’ll find our way together. But first, I’m going to get you bathed, and you’re going to let your hip heal. So right now, we’ll explore … gently.”

“Of course, Nurse Catherine,” Vincent responded. “I intend to be a most … cooperative … patient.”

She giggled again, her heart all aflutter, and hurried to the bathing chamber to exchange the now soapy water in the wash basin for fresh warm water. She treated Vincent to another scalp massage, this time with a sandalwood scented conditioner, and once again carefully rinsed his hair with the plastic measuring cup. After squeezing as much water as possible out of Vincent’s hair, she spread it out to dry on a fluffy towel and carefully combed through it until it was snarl-free.

“Now, we move on to the bathing portion of the evening,” Catherine informed him, as she moved the small table to the side of the bed, acquired yet another clean basin of warm water, and fetched some sandalwood scented soap and a wash cloth from her pile of bathing supplies.

Washing Vincent’s face, neck, arms, hands, chest, and back, with towels tucked about his body to help keep the bed linens dry, was somewhat reminiscent of the care Catherine had provided to him the day he was injured. But this time, every movement, every stroke of the washcloth followed by the gentle caress of her hand, was charged with a slow-burning erotic intensity. Vincent’s low rumbling purr gradually developed a churring rasp at the end of each exhale, and he often reached up to draw Catherine down to him for kiss after kiss, exchanging whispered endearments.

His upper body now freshly washed, Catherine patted his skin dry and drew the sheet up under his chin to keep him from becoming chilled. After collecting another fresh basin of water, Catherine murmured, “Feet and legs next.”

She drew the bottom of the sheet up to uncover his feet, tenderly washing and massaging his feet and ankles just as she remembered the way her mother would care for her Dad after a long day at court. Vincent sighed and rumbled, “This is heavenly, My Love. Be careful. You may find me politely requesting a foot massage nearly every day.”

“Oh dear,” she responded with a giggle. “You’ve guessed my dastardly plan to hopelessly ensnare you forever.”

“That you have already done with just a smile and a glance and the goodness of your heart, My Catherine,” he replied, his eyes intently following her every gesture.

After emptying and rinsing the basin yet again, Catherine returned with more warm water. Uncovering first the injured leg and hip, Catherine marveled at how quickly Vincent’s bruises were healing. The angry black and blue marks had already faded to a sickly yellow, and he barely flinched as she carefully washed and dried the injured leg and hip and reapplied the arnica cream from Dr. Wong’s apothecary, which Father had been using to treat the bruises.

“You’re looking much better,” she breathed while covering up the injured limb and revealing Vincent’s other leg.

“I still have a good bit of healing to do,” Vincent replied with a sigh. “But I hope to start walking with crutches in another few days.”

“Not for at least a week. No need to rush the healing process,” Catherine responded, giving him a long, pointed look. “Do not risk reinjuring your hip just because you might be getting bored.”

“Now, how could I possibly be bored when you are with me?” Vincent asked a bit saucily, then bit off a groan and a long sigh when Catherine began washing his leg with her bare soapy hands. “Oh,” he moaned. “Oh, I take back my previous statement. THIS is heaven, My Love.”

Inwardly, Catherine smiled, thinking, Oh, you’ll be changing your mind again very soon, My Own.

The raspy purr returned at full volume, and Catherine spent long languorous moments massaging and kneading Vincent’s marvelously muscled leg, first with her soapy hands, then rinsing with the wet washcloth and patting him dry. His purr continued to grow in intensity, and when she glanced up, she could see that his eyes had gone completely black. Words had deserted him.

He had expected her to cover up his leg, but his entire body tensed and a long, inarticulate moan escaped him when soft, warm, wet, soapy hands pushed aside the sheet and glided once again over his uninjured hip, across his belly, and down his groin to gently, lovingly caress and stroke his engorged, aching, and most private parts. His hands gripped the sides of the mattress, claws sinking into the protective toweling, his head tossed from side to side, and his body arched as Catherine drew him inexorably into a sudden, powerful climax that drove a roar from the base of his chest to rumble out of his panting, rasping throat. His senses whited out completely, and for long minutes he floated in sea of clouds, dimly aware as gentle hands washed away the evidence of his bliss and covered him with a crisp, clean sheet and a warm blanket.

Once again, I stand corrected, he thought before lapsing completely into a deep, healing sleep.  THIS surely is heaven.

* * *

Three weeks later on a Friday evening, Helper Harold Pleasants, driving his finest stretch limousine with blackout tinted windows, pulled into the alley behind Dr. Wong’s apothecary just after nightfall. A grinning Stan Kaczmarek alighted to open the back doors and welcome Father, Mary, Catherine, and a confident Vincent, swinging along expertly on his crutches, into the interior of the luxury vehicle.

After a twenty-minute drive, the limousine pulled up to the small underground parking lot of the Hobart Street building. Harold entered a passcode on the access panel, and the security gate rose, admitting them to the 10-space underground garage. Wearing a sharp uniform, Marlon Johnson, Albert’s eldest son and Catherine’s new building manager, waited for them outside the locked basement entry door.

“Welcome home, Ms. Chandler,” Marlon greeted her with a broad smile. “Ready to try out your new security system?”

“I certainly am,” Catherine replied as she happily punched in her personal passcode to unlock the door and electronically register her arrival with the upstairs security team.

“There are only Helpers and Tunnel dwellers here in the building right now,” Marlon told the group. “We won’t be opening the ground floor medical clinic and legal aid office to the general public for another two or three weeks. So, Vincent, you should feel free to wander around on any of the floors this weekend, if you like, to check out the work in progress.”

“Thanks, Marlon,” Vincent replied. “But I think I’d like to start with the residence first.”

Catherine led the group over to her private elevator and punched in her passcode, summoning the elevator to the basement level.

“I’m going to make one short detour before we go to the residence,” she said, and pressed the button marked Private Sub-Level.

The doors opened into the access tunnel beneath the building, where Mouse and Jamie were happily waiting.

“Oh, Catherine,” Jamie gushed, giving her a big hug. “The walk from the Hub to your building is so EASY! Vincent, there are just a few stairs and NO steep inclines. Once you get your stamina back, you’ll be able to manage it easily, even on crutches.”

“Told ya!” Mouse added. “Good location. Easy walk. Father could do it right now.”

The group exited for a moment to examine the access keypad for the elevator, and Marlon provided Vincent with his private passcode and Father with a passcode for approved Tunnel dwellers to use.

“Father, once a Tunnel dweller uses this passcode and enters the elevator, the telephone inside the elevator will ring,” Marlon stated as he pointed out these features. “You’ll need to identify yourself either to Vincent or Catherine or to the security officer in charge if they’re not home, so they can press the button allowing you to travel up to the residence.”

“This is excellent, Marlon,” Father replied. “Practical, easy to use, but very secure.”

“Marlon and I took great care to select a system that would provide the ultimate in safety for Vincent and Cathy, but still be accessible for the Tunnel family,” Stan added. He turned to Catherine. “Are you ready to see your new home?”

“I’m more than ready,” Catherine marveled. “This is amazing, Stan! I can’t believe you pulled this off in just three weeks!”

“Cullen, Kanin, and the work crew have moved in all the furniture and placed it according to your design plans,” Stan replied. “We’ve done some of the general unpacking – kitchen, dining room, bathrooms, guest rooms, laundry – but we’ve left your personal boxes in the study and master bedroom for you and Vincent to unpack and organize as you wish.”

“A wise decision,” Vincent noted with a grin. “Madam Assistant District Attorney is very particular about the organization of her study. Not to mention her walk-in closet.”

“Hey, I resemble that remark!” Catherine replied to general good-natured laughter.

The group re-entered the elevator using Father’s passcode, and he clearly enjoyed answering the phone and speaking with Jeffrey Hicks, a former Tunnel dweller who had been working with Albert Johnson’s security firm for several years. Soon, the elevator came to a smooth stop at the top floor, and the group stepped into the beautiful marble foyer, accented with a handsome entryway rug from the former Chandler brownstone, a round console table bearing a lovely floral centerpiece, and a coat closet.

“Uncle Stan!” called Kipper who came bounding out of the living room. “Hey, Catherine! Come see your new place! All the furniture fit perfectly, just as you imagined it!”

Cullen, Kanin, and the rest of the moving crew soon came out to welcome Catherine to her new home and help lead the group on a guided tour of the beautiful residence with all of the magnificent furniture, antiques, and wonderful lighting Catherine had selected from her parents’ former home. Mary made note of the mantel clock in the living room, and Father’s eyebrows rose when he spotted Lady Liberty in the study. The master bedroom furniture Vincent had chosen for Cullen to refinish was also much admired, along with Caroline Chandler’s elegant dressing table.

Soon, the group gathered at the roof access stairs to go up and enjoy the covered patio and rooftop garden. “According to Green Thumb, we should have late summer vegetables to share, just like the rooftop garden at Stan’s building,” Catherine pointed out to Father.

Then, she pulled a large golf umbrella out of a storage bench on the patio and handed it to Vincent. Sweeping an arm around to note how the positioning of the neighboring buildings left very few windows with any sort of bird’s-eye view of her building’s rooftop, Catherine said, “There’s little chance we would be observed when enjoying the garden, but just in case, I have this umbrella for Vincent to use.”

“Lucky will love it up here,” Vincent noted, as he gently selected a flower from Catherine’s hybrid red-and-white rosebush and tucked it behind her ear. “So much space to run around and play.”

“As long as she doesn’t chew on the plants,” Stan added. “We’ll have to check your foliage against a list of plants that are poisonous to cats. When I was little, we lost one of Mom’s favorite strays to a discarded bouquet of lilies.”

“Have no fear,” Catherine chirped. “I already let Green Thumb know that I have a pet cat, and they made sure none of their plant selections or my rosebush would be harmful to Lucky.”

“William knows, too,” Mouse piped up. “When Tunnel workers come to weed and harvest and replant, we stick to the Green Thumb plan. Protect Lucky.”

“That’s great,” Catherine sighed.

“Well, I happen to know that there’s a feast waiting for us in the kitchen, courtesy of William, who is holding down the fort at the St. Francis soup kitchen,” Mary announced. “A welcome home party for Catherine.”

Soon the dining room was full of conversation and laughter, as the group enjoyed some favorite Tunnel finger foods, cups of tea, and even glasses of champagne delivered from Peter Alcott, who included a note for Catherine promising to visit later in the week. After a while, though, the leave-taking began, with Stan and Kipper heading off to Stan’s loft at the Juniper Street building, and Father, Mary, and the rest of the Tunnel guests preparing to walk back to the Hub.

Father gave Vincent an extra-tight hug. “You’re certain about spending this weekend Above?” Father asked.

“Very certain,” Vincent replied. “You know how to reach us in case of any emergency. I don’t want Catherine to be here alone on her first night in this new place. I fully intend to spend this entire weekend here with her.”

“Well, Marlon and his security team will be here,” Father noted.

“Yes, but that’s not the kind of Aloneness that concerns me,” Vincent replied. “By the end of next week, the dormitory level will be ready for Dwayne and Mildred Pearson, Marlon, and Jeffrey Hicks to move in. Then, Catherine will have true Tunnel neighbors and staff living here Above. But until then, I want to be with her at night. Mouse and Jamie have offered to help me with the walk back, if necessary.”

“Be well, then, my son,” Father responded. “Mary and I will look after Lucky, so you can unpack in peace. Have a wonderful weekend in this truly lovely home. Your Catherine has done very well. Everything looks like it was meant to be here.”

Including me, thought Vincent with a quiet grin. Including something that has never been.  And in his head, he could hear Catherine’s correction from a few weeks ago. Someone, not something.

After the last guest departed, Catherine and Vincent wandered the residence once again before settling in the master bedroom to unpack some clothing and necessities for their first night in this new home. When Catherine emerged from hanging up a few work outfits in the walk-in closet, she spied Vincent peering through the curtains of the bedroom’s floor-to-ceiling windows.

She circled Vincent’s waist with her arms and asked, “Are you up to some star-gazing before we settle down for the night?”

“Of course,” he replied. “Whatever you wish. I thought you might want to get your bedroom completely unpacked.”

“Nah,” she answered. “I just wanted to hang up a few things for work so the wrinkles can fall out by Monday. Let’s take the last of the champagne and go up to the patio and enjoy the night sky from our new vantagepoint on the world.”

Together, they snuggled on one of the large loungers under the covered patio, sipping champagne and taking in the view over Hobart Square Park.

“It isn’t Central Park,” Catherine murmured. “But it does have its own charm.”

“Yes,” Vincent replied. After a moment of silence, he continued, “Are you happy with your decision, My Love?”

“Oh, yes!” she immediately responded. “My new home is even more beautiful than I imagined. Everywhere I look, I’m surrounded by happy memories of my parents and my childhood in the brownstone, and lovely pieces from our chamber Below, representing the life and the future we’re building together. I never realized just how much I wanted … NEEDED … this safe home Above for us.”

“The ache for home lives in all of us, the safe place where we can go as we are and not be questioned,” Vincent quoted, looking into Catherine’s questioning eyes. “Maya Angelou. I, too, am grateful to be able to come to you at last in safety.”