Memoirs- Another
Valentine ficlette
A short story based upon the characters of
“Beauty and the Beast”
by Nancy Lynn Knauff
Catherine brushed out her shoulder length dark blond hair slowly, in a good mood after her shower. She had spent a wonderful evening with Vincent in the tunnels. She still couldn’t believe that this had been their third Valentine’s day spent together- there were times when she felt it amazing that she knew this wonderful and unique man from the secret world below Manhattan at all.
She put down her brush on the vanity table, her hand
straying over the handmade Valentine he had written to her for the
occasion. The quote he had used was
from Barrett Browning. He knew her
fondness for the woman’s poetry- she had bought him a first edition copy of
“Songs from the Portuguese” as a birthday present last month. She picked it up, admiring the neat
penmanship he had used. It was, in
Above standards, a simple card- no fancy paper lace trim or schmaltzy
heart-shaped card, but she treasured it above all other cards she had received
in the past.
Her mind drifted for a moment as she looked at
herself in the mirror; card in one hand, the other twirling the crystal at her
breast. Here I am, she thought, a
woman from the upper social class, content with a simple card on this romantic
day. Several years ago, she would
have donned the most elegant velvet dress she could buy to go out for a
secluded dinner and a show on the arm of Tom Gunther or any of the other
eligible bachelors out there on this night.
She would have been showered with expensive gifts, including the
standard flowers and chocolate, sipping on champagne in one of the more ritzy
restaurants in town. She looked at that
other life and grimaced at the emptiness of her past. She never felt more satisfied in her life than right now.
Slipping on a satin robe to match her rose colored gown, she turned into her living room and sat at her writing desk. She pulled out the bottom drawer to pull out a wooden box. The engraved keepsake box was once her mother’s; her father had given it to her when she had turned twenty-one. Before it had held unimportant things, now it held all the notes and letters and cards Vincent had given to her since the beginning of their relationship.
Smiling as she fingered through the contents,
Catherine fondly remembered each and every one of these cherished
mementos. Each one was a tribute to the
love they shared- a testament to the light each of them brought to their true
love’s darkness. Vincent had said as
much tonight in his chamber when they had exchanged gifts. You are my brightest beacon, he had
told her, shining in the depth of my despair, guiding me home. Her heart had melted at that bold statement,
even more than the card she gently placed in the box. She knew how difficult it was for him to speak of his deepest
feelings to her. He preferred to show
his devotion to her, hence the many notes, messages and letters in this
box. In the last few months, he had
started to show his love for her in other ways as well. She closed her eyes for a minute savoring
the kiss he had bestowed upon her at their parting tonight- sweet, passionate,
and oh, so delightful. It spoke of many
more wonderful things to come, she was sure of it.
She tucked the box back into its rightful place in
her drawer. A few minutes later, the
lights were out and she was in bed, still feeling the effects from that
kiss. As she drifted off, she smiled to
herself and thought forever, Vincent.
What we have will endure forever.
Later, from the other side of the glass French doors
of her balcony, a tawny figure in black cloak watched her sleep. As Vincent looked lovingly on his beloved
Catherine, his heart and mind answered her earlier vow. Forever, Catherine. Forever.