a barbarian, and failed.

After breakfast, the kitchen emptied like a galleon full of rats

docking in a new port, leaving Paul and Julia sitting across from

one another, each fidgeting with their coffee mugs and avoiding

one another’s eyes.

Julia broke the silence. “I’m so sorry.”

“Me too.”

She chewed on her lip as her eyes darted to meet his, wondering

if he was angry or bitter. Or both.

But he wasn’t. His dark eyes were still kind, but he appeared

defeated. “I had to try, you know? I didn’t want to wait until you’d found someone else. But I won’t bring it up again.” He pursed his

lips, and a resigned expression passed over his face. “You don’t need to worry about me embarrassing you.”

Julia leaned over the table and took his hand in hers. “I wasn’t

embarrassed. I know that we would have had a good life together. I care for you too. But you deserve more. You deserve to have a life with someone who will love you the same way that you love her.”

Paul released her hand and walked away.

P

Gabriel’s Rapture

“Care to explain why he’s so quiet?” Tom turned to Julia as they

waited for Paul to come out of the men’s room at a gas station in

New Hampshire.

“He wants more than I can give him.”

Tom squinted at something in the distance. “He seems like a

good man. He comes from a good family. What’s the problem? Got

a thing against cows?”

He was trying to make her laugh, but it had the opposite effect.

He quickly held his hands up in surrender. “What do I know? I

thought the senator’s son was a good match for you. So I guess I’m a horse’s ass.”

Before Julia could disagree, Paul returned to the U-Haul, ending

the heart to heart conversation between father and daughter.

P

Two days later Julia stood on the front steps of her new build-

ing, saying good-bye to Paul, feeling worse than she had when she

rejected him in his parents’ kitchen. He hadn’t been cold, or rude, or resentful. He hadn’t shirked any responsibilities in terms of driving from Vermont to Cambridge, or unloading Julia’s things.

He’d even gone out of his way to set up a job interview for her at the trendy coffee shop across the street. The former occupant of the apartment had just quit her job there. Paul hoped that Julia could replace her, knowing that she needed the money.

He’d slept on the floor in Julia’s small apartment and never com-

plained. He’d been perfect, actually. And that made Julia almost feel as if she should change her mind.

It would be safer, easier, to choose Paul. Her heart would heal

with him. But in choosing Paul, she would be settling for the good and not the exceptional. And even if the exceptional eluded her for the rest of her life, it would be better, she thought, to live the life of a Katherine Picton, than to be like her mother. In marrying a good man without loving him passionately and completely, she would only serve to short-change him and herself. And she was not that selfish.

“Good-bye.” He hugged her tightly and released her, watching her

expression carefully. Perhaps he was looking to see if she’d changed her mind.

301

Sylvain Reynard

“Good-bye. Thanks for everything. I don’t know what I would

have done without you, all these months — ”

He shrugged. “This is what friends do.”

Paul saw her eyes fill with tears and gave her a very worried

expression. “We’re still friends, aren’t we?”

“Of course we are.” Julia sniffled. “You’ve been a great friend to me, and I hope that we can still be friends, even though…” She didn’t finish her sentence, and Paul nodded as if he was grateful she hadn’t.

With much hesitation he reached out to stroke her cheek one last

time. Then he walked toward the car where his friend Patrick was

waiting. Patrick was going to drive him back to Vermont.

Suddenly, Paul stopped. He turned around and walked back to

Julia, nervously.

“I didn’t want to mention this in front of your father, so I was

waiting until after he left. Then I thought maybe I shouldn’t say

anything at all.” Paul looked away, up Mount Auburn Street, seem-

ingly struggling with something.

“What is it?”

He shook his head, turning to look at her. “I got an email yes-

terday from Professor Martin.”

Julia looked up at him in surprise.

“Emerson quit.”

“What?” She placed a hand on either side of her temple as she

tried to focus on the enormity of what Paul was saying. “When?”

“I don’t know. He agreed to continue supervising my dissertation,

even though he’s leaving. At least, that’s what Martin said. I haven’t heard from Emerson at all.”

Paul caught sight of Julia’s agitated pose and quickly put an arm

around her shoulders.

“I didn’t want to upset you, but I thought you should know. The

department is starting a search for his replacement, and I’m sure

they’l be recruiting at Harvard. I knew you’d hear about it. I thought it would be better coming from me.”

Julia nodded woodenly. “Where’s he going?”

“I have no idea. Martin was tight-lipped about the entire thing.

I think he’s pissed. After all the shit Emerson put the department through, he up and quit.”

302

Gabriel’s Rapture

Julia numbly hugged Paul good-bye and returned to her new

apartment so she could think. That evening, she called Rachel. When she received a voice mail message she contemplated telephoning

Richard, but she didn’t want to bother him. She knew that Scott

wouldn’t have any inside information as to Gabriel’s whereabouts.

So she left a couple of messages on Rachel’s cell phone over the

course of the next few days, then she waited. Rachel never responded.

As the days of June passed, Julia started a part-time job as a sales clerk at Peet’s coffee shop, which was located in a remodeled three-story house across the street. Since Tom covered her rent and her

moving expenses, and since he had demanded that she take some of

the proceeds from the sale of his house back in Selinsgrove, she was able to live simply but comfortably on her part-time job and her

savings until her fellowship began in late August.

She quickly arranged an appointment with the therapist that

Nicole had recommended and began meeting with Dr. Margaret

Walters on a weekly basis. When she wasn’t learning the ropes of the retail coffee market and charming the citizens of Harvard Square, she followed Katherine Picton’s instructions and introduced herself to Greg Matthews, the Chair of her new department.

Professor Matthews received her warmly, and they spent the

better part of an hour discussing their common interest in Dante.

He mentioned that Cecilia Marinelli was arriving from Oxford the

following week and suggested that Julia drop by in order to attend a reception that was being held in Professor Marinelli’s honor. Julia accepted the invitation gladly. Then he walked her to the graduate student lounge and introduced her to a group of students before

politely taking his leave.

Two of the students were cordial but not particularly friendly.

The third student, Zsuzsa, who was from Hungary, welcomed Julia

immediately. She told Julia that a group of them met for drinks every Wednesday at Grendel’s Den, a local pub overlooking Winthrop Park.

Apparently, Grendel’s had a lovely patio and an exceptional beer list.

Julia promised to meet Zsuzsa there the following Wednesday night, and the two women exchanged email addresses.

Despite Julia’s overall shyness, a character trait that she would

never lose completely, she fit into the Harvard landscape like a hand into a glove. She found an undergraduate tour guide called Ari who gave her an orientation to the campus, the library, and the graduate 303

Sylvain Reynard

school. She secured a library card in advance of registration, which would be held in August.

Julia dropped into the graduate student lounge on occasion to see

Zsuzsa and to learn more about the atmosphere of the department.

And she spent long hours in the library, hunting down books that

she would need to read that summer. Exploring the neighborhood,

she found a grocery store and a bank and claimed a particular Thai restaurant, which was just down the street from her apartment, as

her new favorite place to eat.

So by the time Rachel called her on June twenty-sixth, Julia was

completely at home in her new life and happy. Almost.

Julia was in between customers when Rachel called her cell phone,

so she asked one of her co-workers to cover for her and walked out to the front lawn so as not to disturb anyone.

“Rachel, how are you?”

“We’re fine! I’m sorry it took me so long to get back to you. Some bastard stole my phone and I had to get a new one. Then I had to

go back through all the messages, starting with the ones about the wedding and —”

Julia gritted her teeth only slightly as she waited for Rachel to

draw breath so she could steer the conversation in a completely different direction. In two or three paragraphs, her patience was rewarded.

“Gabriel quit his job.”