Vincent stood beside Catherine’s gravesite. It was all he could do for his love. Keep watch while remembering what had been. His nightly ritual never varied. He’d found solace there.
He often stood until dawn, unmoving, uncaring who might be watching. Then, as before over the many weeks, his chin sank to his chest, his eyes filling with tears of tormented regret.
“Catherine, I love you…” he whispered brokenly. He sighed over what he’d lost… his love, his very soul…
His head jerked erect-- she was there, before him-- her questing hand smoothing his hair– caressing his tear-stained cheek…
My son, Jacob
Vincent held out one finger in wonder towards his tiny son. By design or accident the baby grabbed it strongly and held on. Matched pairs of blue eyes considered each other honestly.
“He knows you,” Catherine said quietly, sitting cross-legged, watching the encounter playing out on the end of Vincent’s bed.
“As I know him.” Vincent nodded. “We see each other.”
“I know…” Catherine understood her husband was not referring to the visual connection. She unfolded her legs slowly, crossing to his side, to reach her arms around his neck, kissing his cheek. “I see you too, Vincent.” She smiled.
“Dammit! I was sure this was the way!” Elliot fumed at the hewn-stone walls that all looked exactly the same.
His back hurt and his feet ached. He wasn’t in the mood to be hampered by things beyond his control. He had a message to deliver to Vincent. If only he could remember the route.
Suddenly a familiar voice spoke from the darkness behind him. “Elliot, lost again?”
Elliot turned. “Mouse! Am I glad to see you!” He lunged for the boy, dragging him close into a powerful bear hug.
“Can’t breathe…” Mouse complained.
“Mouse, I love you!” Elliot grinned.