Chapter Nine

Wayne Kelley

The main meal of the evening took almost an hour-and-a-half to consume, courtesy of lengthy conversations between people who saw one another less frequently in the community. When the talking seemed to have overtaken the eating, Father and Mary rose from their places at the head table and made their way to the landing on the staircase leading to the upper entrance of the cavernous room. Voices quieted all around the room as Father gazed over the assemblage with sparkling eyes.

"Thank you, everyone, for your kind attention, and for joining us here this evening," he began. "It is truly a blessing to see so many of our Helpers, and those reside in the far-flung reaches of our world. Tonight is a momentous occasion, more so perhaps than in many years previous, because I have made a serious decision about my life that will affect the community for the foreseeable future."

The room began to buzz with murmurs as people tried to puzzle out what Father might be leading up to. Catherine and Vincent glanced at each other, both fearing that this was the moment when he would foist the mantle of leadership onto Vincent's shoulders, ready or not.

Father glanced over at Mary, the glow of his expression becoming deeper as he drank in the sight of her garbed in a beautiful cream-colored antique gown. He patted her hand as she smiled over at him then returned his attention to the crowd below. "As you know, I have devoted most of my adult life to the guidance and welfare of our world, and would do so again, if given the chance to change my mind. But the time has come, I believe, for me to see to my own welfare, and that of the woman who has come to mean so much to me."

Many in the crowd who had not seen Father and Mary together recently, or heard rumors from those who had, were openly whispering now about the two of them in a relationship together. Catherine squeezed Vincent's hand to calm him as he glanced at her with panic in his eyes at the thought of Father announcing his retirement.

"So it is with great pleasure that we come before you tonight with the news of our engagement, and ask you to join us now as we are formally wed!" Father's voice announced heartily.

Gasps of shock, and cheers of well-wishers drowned out the long, trembling sigh of relief from Vincent as fright released its clenched grasp on his internal organs. "Wow," Catherine exclaimed as they turned to one another again, "that was fast!" They began chuckling at some of the startled reactions people were still wearing at this piece of news, as did Father and Mary from their perch. Finally, they quieted the crowd again so Father could speak. "Father O'Halleron has joined us to conduct the ceremony, so if Vincent and Devin could join us on the platform, while Catherine and Sarah go with Mary to the rear of the hall, we shall get things underway."

After some rearranging of tables and chairs to create a center aisle for the procession, Mary, Catherine, and Sarah made the stately walk to the front of the room to piano music from the baby grand that Mouse had assembled years earlier. The minister led them through a simple ceremony, and pronounced them man and wife. Then Father took Mary into his embrace, and gave her a long, loving kiss as the entire room rang with applause, and, in Devin's case, wolf-whistles. Mary blushed crimson at the attention being heaped upon her, but Father kept her close as their friends all tried to congratulate them at once. Then, they called for the reception to begin, and the celebration launched into full swing.

***

As Vincent and Catherine were standing at the edge of the throng surrounding the newlyweds, a familiar voice caught their ears. "Hey, you two, smile!" Jenny called to them. They turned in her direction, and were caught unawares by a brilliant flash of light.

Vincent blinked, tried to shake away the colored spots swimming before his eyes, and heard an odd, mechanical noise as Jenny approached. "Oh, I'm so sorry!" she apologized, "I didn't mean to blind you like that."

Suddenly, he realized that the object in her hands was a camera, and a sudden, cold anger sprang up inside him. What does she think...he thought heatedly, but then felt the rush of contrition along the bond from Catherine. His vision finally cleared as he turned his eyes to hers, and her expression was already pleading for his understanding. "Catherine..." he began, accusingly.

"Vincent, please, let me explain," his wife implored quietly. "Honey, I know you worry about having your picture taken, but these are safe...The pictures develop themselves, so they never have to leave here; and I just can't bear the thought of not having pictures of little Jacob." She tried looking into his hardened stare. "And you."

Jenny, looking a little frightened by the anger Vincent was radiating, tentatively handed him the small square picture ejected from her camera. Looking down, he was surprised to see a fully-developed color picture of himself and Catherine, smiling, looking completely relaxed and as happy and natural-looking together as any married couple. His appearance, despite his differences, was no more threatening than his preening reflection had been in his chamber earlier.

He glanced up at Catherine again, no longer angry, and felt her fear transform into hopefulness. "They're for us, my love," she promised, "and I'm not letting a single one of them ever get away from us." She reached out and touched his shoulder lightly. "Moments like this need to be remembered, and I can't paint the walls like Elizabeth."

Vincent's love for Catherine, his desire to bring her any possible measure of happiness, finally overwhelmed his doubts. He released a long, sighing breath, then said, "If you're prepared to be personally responsible for safeguarding these," he waggled the picture at her for emphasis, "then I guess I'll get used to it."

Catherine threw herself gratefully into Vincent's arms, nearly crushing the photograph in the process. "Oh, thank you, Vincent...I promise you, every one of these is going straight into an album, and we can keep it under lock and key in our chamber if you want," she assured him. She pulled back, and took the picture from his fingers to look at it for herself.

"And," Jenny spoke up from behind Catherine, "I promise not to aim this at you without warning you sufficiently first." She looked down at it in her hands, then hastily added, "In fact, I'm going to go take some pictures over on the other side of the room for a bit." She turned and began picking her way over toward where a group of women were gathering to look at Mary's wedding ring while Father was getting them drinks.

"I wanted to surprise you," Catherine concluded, sounding a bit weak.

"Well, you certainly did that," Vincent chided her. "But I suppose cameras, like anything else, are not evil things of themselves; we've just been unfortunate to have seen them used in evil ways. Like much that we have risked in order to be together, this is a risk that we can accept by virtue of its benefits."

Catherine kissed him a thank-you, then retrieved her own camera from the diaper bag she'd brought for Jacob's things, and spent a few minutes showing Vincent its workings. Mouse horned in on the conversation at the end, and absconded with the camera for several minutes to try it out, using up the rest of the first cartridge of film in the process. By the end of the evening, Vincent had reached a truce with the concept, and learned to avert his gaze slightly to prevent being blinded by the flash. They wound up with a number of great pictures, including one of Jamie catching Mary's bouquet.

***

Mouse had noticed Father and Mary acting differently a couple days before Winterfest, but had been so wrapped up in his own thoughts about Jamie he'd forgotten to ask Vincent about it. The wedding ceremony had answered all of his questions, though, and had given him a much-needed shot of courage about talking to Jamie. Father and Mary are old, and if they can do it...

He was going to catch Jamie while the party was getting started, so they could dance together after she said yes; but all the women went over to look at the ring Father had given Mary during the ceremony. He was sure it was a good ring, because Father would never give Mary anything that wasn't better than good, especially for a wedding. But my ring for Jamie is better than best, he reassured himself, because I made it for her.

Then Mary got up in front of the ladies with her flowers, and Mouse became excited. He'd seen this at Vincent and Catherine's wedding, and whoever caught the flowers would be the next to get married. Even though Mary didn't catch any flowers, he puzzled for a moment. But now, he wanted Jamie to catch the flowers, and then he could ask her to marry him, and she would say yes, and they could have a wedding and be together for always.

He began rooting silently for Jamie from across the room. Mary tossed her bouquet over her shoulder, and Jamie made a leaping catch to snag it from the air. Mouse did a little dance, hopping up and down happily as he fiddled with the pouch around his neck. He watched the knot of women break up, and sped across the room to see Jamie.

Jamie was a little flustered by the friendly banter of the ladies after she caught the bouquet. Many of them had prodded her for months about the boys she was going to school with Above, waiting for her to announce a beau. Then Mouse approached her, smiling and bouncing with barely suppressed glee.

"Good catch, Jamie," he enthused, "...better than good."

"Yeah, well," she shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant, "years of playing catch finally paid off." She raised the arrangement to her nose and sniffed. "Smells good."

"Yeah," Mouse agreed, not really registering the fragrance as he stared at Jamie. She'd noticed him staring at her all evening, because of her party attire, just as he had when she'd visited Below months earlier. He still kept fingering the leather pouch around his neck as well. "Jamie, can we talk?"

Her brow furrowed. "Sure...what's going on?" she asked.

"Not here...somewhere...just us," the boy urged.

Jamie rolled her eyes. One of those secret talks, she mused. Hope he's not in any trouble. "Okay," she replied, taking him by the hand and leading him toward the side of the room. They ducked underneath the wooden stairs that lead up to the landing where Father had stood with Mary earlier. They sat down on a couple of storage crates, shielded from the noise of the room. "What's up?" she asked again.

Mouse thought for a moment about what he intended to say, then grabbed Jamie's hand. "Come!" he ordered, practically dragging her from their niche back around the bottom of the stairs. She was struggling to keep up with him, because of the fitted dress and shoes she was wearing, as he led her up the stairs. They climbed beyond the landing, all the way up to the platform near the upper door.

"Mouse!" she protested, as they leaned against the railing to catch their breath, "what is wrong!"

Mouse still had that bursting-with-excitement expression on his face. "Nothing wrong...look!" He waved his arm expansively out over the party twenty feet below them.

Jamie looked down at the milling, happy crowd, just as she had done at many Winterfests past. This was one of their favorite spots to sit and watch things when the crowd got to be too claustrophobic. "Yeah, it's great, isn't it," she sighed.

"Yeah!" Mouse prodded. "Now, remember when it's not Winterfest?"

Jamie waited for further information, and when none was forthcoming (as was often the case with Mouse), she said, "Okaaaaaay," trying to lead him toward whatever point he was trying so desperately to make.

"Dark...cold...scary," Mouse explained, sounding a little disappointed that she wasn't following his train of thought.

"Ohhh," Jamie responded. "Yeah...not as nice as now..."

"Yeah!" Mouse yelped, then suddenly became very grave. "When Jamie isn't with Mouse...life is dark...cold....scary....not nice."

Jamie's mouth dropped open as she suddenly realized the deep waters into which this conversation was heading. He can't possibly be saying... she wondered.

"When Jamie is with Mouse..." he began again, taking her hand gently in his, "...like Winterfest here...warm...bright...happy. Vincent says Jamie wants to be with Mouse...Below." He released her hand, lifted the pouch from his neck, handing it to her with great care. "Mouse wants to be with Jamie." He looked directly into her eyes, with a seriousness she'd never see in him before. "Always."

Jamie opened the neck of the pouch, and poured the contents out into her open hand. It was a ring, handmade by Mouse with gold and silver wire, twining around a polished quartz stone that seemed to glimmer with capture flame in the light from the chandeliers. It was every bit as beautiful as the crystal adorning Catherine's neck.

Mouse took it from her palm, and slid it onto the ring finger of her left hand. "Always..." he repeated as he gazed into her eyes, "like Vincent and Catherine....like Father and Mary..."

The extraordinary revelation of his feelings for her, the ring, on top of everything else that had taken place already in the evening, overwhelmed her, and she began to tremble as tears spilled down her face. Mouse, seeing her start to cry, started to pull away, but Jamie threw herself forward, wrapping her arms around him in a bear hug. In a moment, Mouse realized that she was crying with joy, and he clamped his own arms around her and began to cry as well.

They stood together on the landing, hugging and crying for a moment more, and then Jamie let go, and they both began swiping tears from their faces. Mouse's expression was hopeful once again, as he waited for her answer.

"Oh, Mouse," she whispered as she caught her breath, "that is the most beautiful thing I think I've ever heard. You are so special to me, and I do love you, and I do want to come back Below to help you, and the community." She laughed a little nervously. "I even told Catherine that I'd like to take you Topside and show you some of the stuff I've learned in school, maybe even take you to classes."

Mouse now began chuckling at the image of himself and Jamie in their Tunnel clothes, walking around Above and going into her school classroom.

"And I promise we'll do a lot more than just projects together from now on," she continued, taking his hand as he'd taken hers before. "My dear, sweet, Mouse, you are so much more than I ever imagined....but I don't think we're ready to get married."

Mouse's face started to fall, this rejection threatening to crush him. "Not...ready...?"

Jamie grabbed his chin and lifted his face to look him in the eyes. "Not yet," she reassured him, "but, I think, if we try, we can be...very soon." She leaned forward, and gently brought her lips to his in a soft, slow kiss. A brief moment later, she pulled back, and Mouse let out a long, deep breath he'd been holding without realizing it. He opened his eyes, and she nodded in answer to the unspoken question they held. Then, he leaned forward, and pulled her into a longer, deeper kiss of his own.

***

The byplay on the balcony had gone largely unnoticed by the celebrants, except for Vincent. The resolution he was seeing now was both a relief, and a joy. Mouse was a young man, with all the accompanying emotions, despite his difficulty at times in expressing himself. Jamie would bring out the best in him, and have someone trustworthy to give her own love to. He glanced over at Catherine, marveling at these women who could see beyond surfaces to the person within. Her attention, however, was riveted on someone else in another quiet corner.

Devin had been floored, of course, by the impromptu wedding between the Old Man and Mary, but proud to stand up with them as a groomsman. Then, he'd noticed Jenny running around taking Polaroid pictures of everyone, a move he was certain that Cathy had instigated. And, predictably, Vincent had flared up about it, only to calm down when Cathy bribed him with the idea of baby pictures of Lil' Jake. Ole' Fuzzface is such a pushover sometimes, he'd smirked, only to realize that he was about to paint himself into a similar corner before the end of the night.

But Jenny's different, he argued, patting the vest pocket that contained the ring he'd brought for tonight's 'special moment'. Indeed, she'd proven time and again, since they'd met over a year ago, that she was different from other women he'd spent time with during his long and storied adulthood. She accepted things about him that others had tried to change, and even cherished his little foibles and conceits. And she was always a lady, in every sense of the word - smart, classy, fun, and self-reliant. Watching her, just being herself, had brought home to him the painful reality of how much of his life had been wasted being something he wasn't.

After Vincent and Cathy's wedding, he'd stuck around and taken her out several times, just to see if the initial attraction was more that just hormones. They'd never planned anything serious, but there always seemed to be a moment during their dates that left him thinking about serious things. In fact, the spontaneous, fun things they shared every time he was back in town after that, made the serious thinking take a stronger hold each time. He started making up excuses to call her, just so he could hear her voice when he was away for long.

Then, three months ago, a little investment he'd made out West in real estate netted him a windfall profit that he knew could set him up very nicely if handled properly. Part of his reluctance to propose a serious relationship to Jenny was his inability to do more than scratch by financially. So, he made a deal with the Fates - if he could set up and run a successful business of his own in New York, he would get serious with Jenny, and treat her like the princess she was in his heart.

Starting a business in metro New York, however, would require a near perfect combination of choices on his part, and no small amount of luck. He decided, based on his experiences and temperament, to run a small, simple business, where he could be hands-on as much as he wanted, and hands-off whenever he needed the space. In October, he came to town without notifying the Tunnels, or Jenny, so he could look around and seek inspiration.

His inspiration turned out to be a junked rail car in a Lower East Side rail yard. It had been a dining car on the express trains that ran passengers up and down the Eastern seaboard in the seventies and eighties. He'd been kicking around the idea of a diner, and a dining car struck his fancy. The other major success factor would be location, and a chance reading of the newspaper provided the clue he needed in that department.

Six weeks later, Devin was the proud owner of a dining car, parked on a forty-foot chunk of rail spur, just two blocks from the building site of a new outlet shopping complex on the edge of Greenwich Village. He'd gutted the dining car, refitted it as a short-order restaurant, hired cooks and service staff for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, and started feeding the construction crews. By Christmas, the Village locals were calling 'Wells' Diner' their new regular place.

And now, he was ready to tell the community that he was here to stay, and then propose a serious commitment to Jenny. Only Cathy, who'd helped with the legal wranglings of the business, knew of either announcement. So, everyone was a bit taken aback when he mounted the platform at the front of the hall and called for everyone's attention.

"Ladies and gents," he began, "anyone who knows me, knows my story going way back. I've been pegged for years as a vagabond who would never settle down. Well, that is about to change; my roamin' days are over, and I will be making myself a regular pain-in-the-butt around here, thanks to a little enterprise that I've developed of late. Friends and family, you are looking at the proprietor of Wells' Diner, a little eatery next door to the incoming Southtown Outlet Center, just a stone's throw from Battery Park."

Murmurs around the room transformed into a round of applause, which Devin acknowledged with a sweeping bow. "And now," he continued, "I'd like the co-operation of a volunteer for a demonstration of my desire to be a part of this loving family once again. How about the young lady with the camera, there?" he said, pointing to Jenny, who'd wriggled her way to the front of the room as he'd been talking. She blushed, then took his hand and let him haul her onto the platform as the room began to buzz again.

"Now, Miss, you are a woman with an eye for beauty and quality, are you not?" he asked, sounding like a carnival barker. "Now what would you give me," he continued, digging a box from his vest pocket, "for this darling little sparkler right here?" He held out the box, and snapped open the lid. Jenny's eyes bugged out at the sight of the beautiful antique wedding ring.

"Oh, gosh," she stammered, "that must be worth...I dunno...several thousand dollars."

"Right you are," Devin shot back, still in carny mode, "but what if I were to tell you that as the most beautiful, intelligent, and class-act lady in the entire world, I could put this ring on your finger for the low, low price of....your hand in marriage!"

Jenny, along with most of the audience, was dumbstruck by the car salesman routine Devin was using, so she didn't quite comprehend what she was being asked. "Excuse me?" she queried him incredulously.

On cue, Devin dropped to one knee and said, in his most serious natural tone, "Jenny Aronson, will you marry me?"

The hall went deafeningly silent for several seconds, and Jenny sucked in a shaky deep breath before she answered. "Yes, I'll marry you, you big dumb goof," she answered, her voice strained from the desire to laugh and cry at the same time. Devin jumped up, popped the ring on her finger, and then put a lip lock on her that had the whole room cheering and clapping.

A moment later, however, Mouse and Jamie came running up onto the platform. They showed Devin and Jenny, and then the assembled guests, the ring he'd made and given her. Loudly enough for all to hear, Mouse declared, "Mouse proposed first!" earning a laugh from most of the group.

Father came up and congratulated the couples, and restored a measure of order to the festivities. He did, however, ask rather loudly if William might have slipped something into the punch this year.

***

Three hours later, near midnight, Vincent and Catherine followed Father, Mary, and several of the other residents back to the Hub, where most parted company and made their way back to their own chambers for the night. The two couples continued on together to Father's library, where he and Mary were going to wind down with some hot tea. While Mary put the kettle on, Vincent decided to lay the last of the week's rumors to rest.

"You gave me quite a scare at the start of the evening tonight, Father," he chided.

"Whatever do you mean, Vincent?" Father shot back.

"Well, Catherine and I were afraid your big announcement was going to be your retirement from Counsel," Vincent informed him.

Catherine punched him in the arm lightly. "Don't drag me into this..." she warned him.

Father chuckled. "What in heaven's name could have given you such a silly notion?"

Mary spoke up before Vincent could implicate her. "I told him about our little conversation last weekend," she admitted matter-of-factly.

Father gave a small snort of derision. "Vincent, you should know better than to put any stock in those sort of off-the-cuff comments."

"I should know better?" the younger man echoed defensively. "What about your lovely bride?"

Father actually laughed out loud now. "Vincent, we're only having you on a bit; Mary told me yesterday that you two had talked."

Vincent cocked an eyebrow at the older couple as they smirked back at him. Father added, "I might give you the run of the place for a week or two, though. Mary and I are discussing plans for a honeymoon."

Vincent raised his hands to ward off the idea. "Please, Father, spare me the details. I think I'm over my quota for surprises today already." He and Catherine bid them goodnight, and went down the hall to their own chamber.

As they entered, Catherine was stunned to discover two things - the room lit all around with dozens of small votive candles, and no sleeping baby in the crib. "Vincent, where is Jacob?" she asked.

"Sleeping at Lena's tonight," he replied. "I wanted us to have an evening with no interruptions." He led her over to the table where they often had small meals together, where two covered dishes were set. "I wanted to top off this year's celebration with something you've been craving."

He lifted the covers from the place settings, revealing two large slices of very decadent-looking chocolate cake. "Oh my God, is that...?

"'Death by Chocolate', from Tavern on the Green," Vincent supplied.

Catherine dropped into her chair, grabbed her fork, and wolfed down a large bite. "Vincent," she gushed, through another mouthful, "how on earth did you get this?"

Vincent took the other seat, and the other fork. "William has an acquaintance who works in their kitchen, so when I mentioned that this was your favorite dessert; he offered to get us some." He took a large bite of his slice, and nodded thoughtfully as he savored the sensations of the five different chocolates incorporated into the cake, frosting, and topping.

Catherine's expression was pure bliss. "I can't remember the last time I had one of these," she professed.

"It was the last time you were pregnant, dear," Vincent reminded her.

Catherine froze with the fork halfway to her mouth. No way! She thought disbelievingly.

"It's the bond," her husband informed her, eliminating all doubt.

Catherine put down her fork, her face clouded over. "I wanted to surprise you," she said dejectedly.

"Catherine," Vincent said quietly, "you surprise me every day of my life, and I will never, ever tire of it." He rose from his seat, came over, and kissed her deeply and longingly, with lips that still tasted of chocolate. "Why don't we finish the cake later," he suggested when he broke away. Crossing over to the bed, he began to remove his Winterfest attire in unhurried movements that were hypnotic in the half-light.

Now there's a picture I'd like to take one of these days, Catherine mused as she left her cake on the table.

***

Postscript - Twenty years later

The Winterfest celebration was in full swing, but two ladies were together in a quiet corner of the hall, their heads bent over the pages of a photo album.

"And this was Jacob at his third Winterfest, just as his canine teeth were coming in," Catherine explained. "That was when we realized that he was going to look more like his father than we'd originally suspected."

The young girl next to him exclaimed, "Ohmygosh, he looks so cute with that gap-toothed smile of his."

Twenty-one year-old Jacob Wells arrived with drinks from the punch bowl for his mother and girlfriend, and blanched when he saw the old photo albums. "Mom!" he protested, "don't be showing her my baby pictures...it's embarrassing." His voice was a slightly higher pitch than his dad's, but had the same velvety quality to it, except when he was whining about something.

Jacob's siblings came wandering up behind him, eager to see their Mom putting their older brother on the hot seat with his sweetheart. "Show her the pictures of him swimming at the falls," one of them urged.

Just then, the family patriarch arrived, and the younger kids scattered in four different directions. "Catherine," Vincent chuckled, "you're not trying to run this poor girl off with those old pictures, are you?"

Catherine looked up at her son and husband - the younger a carbon copy of Vincent twenty years ago, and the older with more lines and grey streaks of hair, but still as regal as ever. She'd blessed every day of Jacob's childhood and adolescence, because watching him grow and mature had given her a window into what Vincent's own childhood must have been like. And she had stacks of photo albums to help her relive any moment of it that she wished.

"No, dear," Catherine finally replied. "I'm just letting her see what the real value of a smile is." Vincent nodded as he recalled how they'd come to take those first pictures, and favored her with a smile of his own.