To Hold Close

Nancy



“Vincent?”

He slowed.
Stopped.
Turned his head.

“Yes, Father.”

“Did you have a pleasant evening with Catherine?”

He hesitated.
What response … too many possibilities … crowding … pressing …

“Yes.”

“Did she like her gift?”

“Yes … she was … pleased.”

“Good … good. Well then, I won’t keep you. You must be tired.”

“Good night, Father.”

“Good night, Vincent.”

Torch-light reclaimed its space on the landing.

Worry loitered, smug, in a father’s heart.

~

Just inside his chamber Vincent straightened … paused … and …

She was there … in his bed …
Healing …
Healing him
All his scabbed-over hurts … soul-wounds … the hidden fear of years …

And that humble bench … its once-plump, velvet cushion flattened, glossed with age and use …
Where she’d cried out her fright at seeing him …
Where she’d approved … accepted him …
Where he’d confided beginnings … inspired strength …
Where his heart wept for the words … It’s time for you to go back.

Nothing was different.

Everything was changed.

He felt for the leather pouch beneath his shirts.

Undoing a knot at his throat, he tossed the cloak across the table and stretched out on the quilts.

The rose lay upon his heart.

What happened tonight?

He watched it begin again …

Catherine … touching flame to the last of the dozens of candles she’d set out …
Tunnel comfort in this … their in-between-world …

Her smile … of pleasure and gratitude … love … at first sight of him …

His praise … for the dancing lights … incapable of more …

She was able to speak her heart … her need to rejoice … to celebrate … the Finding … the hope …

Finding me, Catherine?

The lace gown she’d chosen …
His hands afraid to touch …
His fingers impatient and hungry … a dress … for a wedding …

They hugged a chaste greeting.

Hope for what, Catherine?

In her eyes a sparkling wonder reflecting candlelight …
Or were the candle flames a reflection of her?

He presented his gift.
Told her that it spoke eternal words … in eternal worlds …

Eternity … with you, Catherine …

And you offered your gift, ‘a part of me to hold close’, you said, and I thought of eternity again.

He sat up, swung his legs to the floor, crushed the mattress edge in strong fists ...

I love you.

He stood.
Paced.

I know … you love me …a miracle blessing for which a lifetime’s gratitude is thin and lacking …

And we’ve celebrated it.
Our first anniversary ...
I say that as though certain there will be others.
Of course there will be others.
There must be others.
I haven’t told you yet … I love you.

He tugged the suede pouch into the candlelight, undid the tie and let the rose slip out to warm his palm.

A part of me …

His fingers closed with care around it.

His heart … with love … around her.



for you, H

8 comments

  1. Nancy, I just love this. What a glorious story you've made of what was really a very brief (too brief) scene. What an enormous step they both made. :-)

    Beautiful, again and still.

    -Krista :)

  2. I concur. This is glorious. No one captures this man's feelings as you do, Nancy. You know him. Appreciate him. You're always so tender with him. Your Catherine is always giving for she too ... appreciates.

    Thank you.

    Carole

  3. I didn't cry until the last sentence...

  4. Krista, my gratitude can't keep up with your kindness. I'm so glad you enjoyed this. Thank you for telling me! Nancy

  5. You inspire me, Carole. Thank you for that and for all the rest! Nancy

  6. R1, that was such a sweet thing to say! I think we can't help but love our Vincent and Catherine. Thank you. Nancy

  7. This is amazing... as always. You have such a gift. The phrase that comes to mind is something Vincent recited in Shades of Gray "To See the World in a Grain of Sand" You have a talent for conveying worlds of thought and feeling into such a small succint but incredibly poetic space. How fortunate we are that you choose to share this with us.

  8. How fortunate am I to awaken to praise like this! Thank you. Thank you so much. I do believe you'ver stirred a memory - I think I may have a kit to embroider those words of Vincent's. I must find it now! Hugs, Nancy

Post a Comment