AN ANGEL FOR VINCENT

BY

MARGARET NOEL


It had snowed. It was still snowing. It had snowed so much; in fact, the city had been all but shut down. Catherine was bored and restless. She had been stuck in her apartment for two days with nothing to do and no one for company. Not even Vincent had been willing to brave the elements. Thoughts of him sent her to the balcony. Glancing out at the night sky a delighted smile crossed her face. An idea had formed. Racing to her closet Catherine pulled out a heavy sweater, leggings, and ski pants. In minutes she was headed for the tunnel entrance in the basement of her building. Just as she had known he would be, Vincent was waiting for her.

Taking in her manner of dress, boots, parka, ski pants, scarf and gloves, Vincent raised a questioning eyebrow, "I realize the weather has been inclement but aren't you a little overdressed, even for the tunnels?"

Catherine laughed. "The snow is letting up and the moon is out. It's a perfect night for a walk. Given the weather we would have the park all to ourselves. Please Vincent, come for a walk with me." Unable to refuse her anything he readily agreed.

A short time later they strolled hand in hand out of the drainage tunnel into Central Park. It was like stepping into another world. The moon sparkled on the pristine snow with the light of a thousand flickering candles as lazy snowflakes drifted earthward. For one perfect moment it seemed as if they were the only two people on earth. The absolute silence broken only by the sound of the snow crunching under their footsteps.

Tugging on his hand Catherine pulled Vincent forward. "Let's make snow angels!" she suggested as she flopped down on the snow.

"Snow angels?" He looked at her questioningly

"Vincent don't tell me you never made snow angels when you were a child."

"No" came the one word reply.

Catherine was saddened once again as she thought of Vincent's restricted childhood. Shaking off her melancholy she smiled. "There's a first time for everything." Lying in the snow she waved her arms up and down and opened and closed her legs giving the angel it's shape. Looking up at him she grinned, "your turn."

 

For a moment he did not respond, merely studied her appearance, her cheeks reddened by the cold, the snowflakes clinging to her hair, " I have no need for snow angels my Catherine."

Helping her up Vincent gathered her into his arms. "The only angel I will ever need is you."

 

The end