“In a crack house.”

“Dad, please.”

Gabriel’s Rapture

“I’m sorry. I really am. I want my little girl to find someone good and be happy.”

“I want that for you too,” she said.

“Well, we’re quite a pair.” He cleared his throat and decided to

change the subject. “Tell me about graduation. I made some money

from the sale of the house, and I’d like to come to graduation. We should also talk about what you want to do this summer. Your room

in the new house is waiting for you. You can paint it any color you want. Hell, paint it pink.”

She couldn’t help but smile. “I haven’t wanted a pink room in a

long time, but thanks, Dad.”

Although Selinsgrove was the last place Julia wanted to go at that moment, at least she had a parent and a home, a home that didn’t

have bad associations with either Simon or Sharon. Or him.

259

Chapter 32

On April ninth, Julia walked through the melting snow to

Professor Picton’s house, clutching her printed thesis in one

hand and a bottle of Chianti in the other.

She was nervous. Although her relationship with Professor Picton

had always been cordial, it was never warm. Katherine wasn’t the kind of person to dote or fawn over her students. She was professional

and demanding and decidedly unsentimental. So Julia was quite

concerned when Katherine invited her to submit her thesis in person and to stay for dinner. Of course, there was no possibility of a refusal.

Julia stood on the front porch of Katherine’s three-story brick

home and rang the doorbell. She wiped her palms on the front of

her pea coat, trying to eliminate the clamminess.

“Julianne, welcome.” Katherine opened the door and ushered

her student inside.

If Julia’s small studio was a hobbit hole, then Professor Picton’s house was the abode of a wood elf. A wood elf with a taste for fine, old furnishings. Everything was elegant and antique; the walls were paneled in dark wood with expensive carpets blanketing the floors.

The decorating was aristocratic but spare, and everything was ex-

tremely ordered and tidy.

After taking Julia’s coat, Katherine graciously accepted the Chi-

anti and the thesis, and directed her to a small parlor off the front hall. Julia promptly sat herself in a leather club chair in front of the hearth and accepted a small glass of sherry.

“Dinner is almost ready,” Katherine said and vanished like a

Greek goddess.

Julia examined the large books about English architecture and

gardens gracing the low coffee table. The walls were lined with pastoral Gabriel’s Rapture

scenes interspersed with the occasional severe black and white portrait of the ancestral Pictons. She sipped her sherry slowly, savoring the warmth as it slid down her throat to her stomach. Before she could finish, Katherine was escorting her to the dining room.

“This is lovely.” Julia smiled, in an effort to mask her nervous-

ness. She was intimidated by the fine bone china, crystal, and silver candlesticks that Katherine had set atop a white damask tablecloth that looked as if it had been ironed.

(Not even the linens would dare to wrinkle without Professor

Picton’s permission.)

“I like to entertain,” said Katherine. “But truthfully, there are few dining companions that I can stand for an entire evening.”

Julia felt a sinking feeling in her middle. With as little noise as possible, she took her place next to Katherine, who sat at the head of the long, oak table.

“It smells delicious,” said Julia, trying not to ravenously inhale the scent of cooked meat and vegetables that wafted from her plate. She hadn’t been eating much in the previous days but Professor Picton’s offerings seemed to have stimulated her appetite.

“I tend toward vegetarianism, but in my experience graduate

students never eat enough meat. So I’ve prepared an old recipe of

my mother’s. Normandy hotpot, she used to call it. I hope you don’t mind pork.”

“Not at all.” Julia smiled. But when she saw the lemon zest atop

the plate of steamed broccoli, her smile narrowed.

Gabriel had a thing for garnishes.

“A toast perhaps?” Katherine poured Julia’s wine gift into their

glasses and held hers aloft.

Julia raised her glass obligingly.

“To your success at Harvard.”

“Thank you.” Julia hid her mixed emotions behind the act of

drinking.

Once a polite space of time had elapsed, Katherine spoke. “I

brought you here to discuss a number of different things. First, your thesis. Are you satisfied with it?”

Julia swallowed a piece of parsnip hastily. “No.”

Katherine frowned.

261

Sylvain Reynard

“What I mean is, there’s room for improvement. If I had another

year, it would be so much better. Um…” Julia wished a hole would

open up under the floorboards and swallow her.

Inexplicably, Katherine smiled and sat back in her chair. “That’s

the correct answer. Good for you.”

“Pardon?”

“Students these days think they’re far more talented than they

actually are. I’m glad, with all your success, you’ve maintained some academic humility.

“Of course another year would improve your thesis. You’ll be a

better student and a better scholar next year, if you continue to work hard. I’m pleased you realize you have room for improvement. Now,

we can move on to something else.”

Julia tore her eyes from Katherine and focused on her knife and

fork. She had no idea what was coming next.

Katherine tapped an impatient finger on top of the table. “I

don’t like it when people pry into my private life, so I leave others’

private lives alone. In your case, I was dragged into something by David Aras.” Katherine grimaced. “I’m not privy to everything that went on at that McCarthyite hearing, and I don’t want to be.” She

glanced at Julia meaningfully.

“Greg Matthews at Harvard is looking to hire an endowed chair

in Dante studies. I’d hoped that Gabriel would be offered that job.”

Katherine saw Julia move out of the corner of her eye, but quickly continued. “Unfortunately, the chair has been offered to someone

else. They foolishly tried to lure me out of retirement, but I declined.

“How that dreadful Pacciani man ended up on their short list, I’ll never know. At any rate, Cecilia Marinelli will be the new endowed chair. They stole her from Oxford. It would be good if you could

work with her. Provided all goes well with your thesis, I’d be happy to telephone Cecilia and let her know of your arrival.”

“Thank you, Professor. That’s very kind.”

Katherine waved a casual hand. “Not at all.”

The two women spent the next few minutes finishing their dinner

in relative silence. While Katherine cleared the table, after refusing her student’s repeated offers to help, Julia finished her wine.

Although she felt badly that Gabriel did not get his dream job,

she was relieved that he would not be following her to Harvard. His 262

Gabriel’s Rapture

presence in the department would have caused all kinds of problems.

She could never work with him now. And it would have been ex-

tremely painful to have to try to maintain a professional and detached relationship with him. No, it was much better that Gabriel would

stay in Toronto, while she moved to Boston. It was a mercy, albeit a severe one, that Harvard had hired Professor Marinelli.

After dessert and coffee, Katherine suggested they retire to the

parlor. Once again, Julia sat in the comfortable club chair next to the fire and gratefully received the small glass of port that Katherine pressed into her hand. Although Katherine’s decorating style was

quite different from Gabriel’s, it seemed as if Dante specialists enjoyed drinking by the fireplace.

“You will have a fresh start at Harvard, and no one will have an

inkling of what transpired here. Until then, it would be wise not to draw any more attention to yourself.” Katherine gave Julia a look

that was piercing, if not severe.

“Graduate students, especially female graduate students, are vul-

nerable with respect to their reputation. There are still those in the Academy who would choose to mislabel the fruits of talent and hard work as the results of preferment and prostitution. It’s best if you never give anyone the slightest suspicion that you haven’t earned

your accomplishments through hard work.”

“Professor Picton, I swear that I worked very hard in the Dante

seminar. He didn’t help me with my essay or give me any special

treatment. That’s why he asked you to grade it.”

“I’m sure that’s true. But you deceived me, and quite frankly, I’m a bit put out.”

Julia gazed at her advisor with undisguised horror.

“Nevertheless, I understand why I wasn’t taken into your con-

fidence. I’m sure Gabriel forbade it. I’m annoyed with him as well, but for reasons I won’t divulge, I owe him a debt.”

Professor Picton sipped her port thoughtfully, staring off into

space. “When I was a student at Oxford, it was shamefully common

for dons to develop romantic relationships with their students. Sometimes the relationships were what we would now consider harassment cases. Other times true love was involved. I saw both.”