“Good morning.” She greeted Julia with a smile.

“Good morning.” Julia motioned toward the staircase that led to

the second floor. “I was just going to use the bathroom.”

Rebecca wiped her hands on her apron.

“I’m afraid Gabriel is in it.”

“Oh.”

“Why don’t you knock on the door? He might be finished.”

The thought of running into Gabriel, damp from the shower,

wrapped in a towel, made Julia’s skin grow pink.

“Um, I’ll wait. May I?” She gestured to the kitchen sink and, with Rebecca’s permission, proceeded to wash her hands. When they were

dried, she removed a hair elastic from her purse and pulled her hair into a ponytail.

Rebecca invited her to sit down at the small, round kitchen table.

“This house isn’t very convenient with only one bathroom. I end up having to climb those stairs several times a day. Even my little house has two bathrooms.”

Julia was surprised. “I thought that you lived here.”

Rebecca laughed as she retrieved a pitcher of freshly squeezed

orange juice from the refrigerator. “I live in Norwood. I used to live with my mother, but she passed away a few months ago.”

“I’m sorry.” Julia gave Rebecca a sympathetic look as she poured

orange juice into two wine glasses.

“She had Alzheimer’s,” said Rebecca simply before returning to

her cooking.

Julia watched as she plugged in an electric waffle maker and

proceeded to wash and hull a basket of fresh strawberries and whip some cream. Gabriel had planned the breakfast well.

“It’s going to be an adjustment to keep house for a professor after looking after my mother. He’s a bit particular, but I like that. Did you know that he’s lending me books? I’ve just started reading Jane 340

Gabriel’s Rapture

Eyre. I’ve never read it before. He says that as long as I keep cooking I can keep borrowing books. Finally, I have a chance to further my education and use everything I learned from years of watching the Food Network.”

“He’s lending you books from his personal library?” Julia sounded

incredulous.

“Yes. Isn’t that nice? I don’t know the professor very well, but I’m already fond of him. He reminds me of my son.”

Julia sipped her orange juice and began to eat her breakfast, urged as she was not to wait for Gabriel’s arrival.

“I don’t know why he bought this house when the kitchen is so

small and there’s only one bathroom.” She spoke between bites of a cinnamon flavored waffle.

Rebecca wore a knowing smile. “He wanted to live in Harvard

Square, and he liked the garden. He said that it reminded him of his parents’ place back home. He plans to renovate the house to make it more comfortable, but he refused to book a single contractor until you gave your approval.”

“My approval?” Julia’s fork clattered to the floor.

Rebecca efficiently handed her another one. “He might have

said something about selling it if you didn’t like it. Although given the language I heard coming from upstairs this morning, I think he has decided to begin his renovations immediately.”

She passed a plate of crispy bacon to Julia. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed this, but the professor can be a little intense.”

Julia laughed loudly. “You have no idea.”

She was able to enjoy not one but two waffles before the sound

of Gabriel and his Italian shoes came thumping down the stairs.

“Good morning,” he greeted her, kissing the top of her head.

“Good morning.” Acutely aware of Rebecca’s presence, Gabriel

and Julia made polite small talk for a moment or two before Julia

excused herself to visit the bathroom.

With one look at her face and hair in the mirror, she realized that she needed to have a shower. And that’s when she noticed a shopping bag placed neatly on the corner of the vanity.

Inside the bag she found bottles of her old brand of vanilla

shampoo and shower gel, along with a new lavender-colored poof.

341

Sylvain Reynard

Even more surprisingly, she found a pale yellow summer dress with

a matching cardigan. It took a moment or two for her to overcome

the sudden, almost overwhelming feeling that passed over her. But

she swallowed it back and showered and dressed, making herself

presentable.

She was grateful to have clean clothes to wear but slightly irritated at Gabriel’s presumption. She wondered if she’d find lingerie in her size hanging in his closet. She wondered if, when he moved the contents of his condo, he kept all the clothes and items she’d left behind.

She swept her hair behind her ears. Grace’s earrings were hidden

in the back of her underwear drawer with a few other precious things, in her apartment. She knew that putting them away, although it

seemed necessary when he left, had injured Gabriel deeply.

They’d wounded each other, and both were in need of forgive-

ness and healing. But Julia couldn’t decide what path would be the best one to take in order for her to mend. The obvious choices in

life aren’t always the correct ones.

When she finally came downstairs, Rebecca was cleaning up the

kitchen and Gabriel was in the garden. She found him sitting in a

chair under the shade of a large umbrella.

“Are you all right?” she asked, for his eyes were closed.

He opened his eyes and smiled. “I am now. Join me?” He ex-

tended his hand, and she took it, settling herself in the chair adjacent to him.

“That color suits you,” he said, appraising her yellow dress with

unconcealed delight.

“Thank you for going shopping.”

“What would you like to do today?”

Julia tugged the hem of her dress to cover her knees. “I think we

should finish our conversation.”

He nodded, silently renewing his prayer. He didn’t want to lose

her. And he knew that her reaction to the next part of his story might bring about just that.

“I know you remember our conversation in the hallway, after

the hearing. When John was rude to you, I wanted to break off his

finger and feed it to him.”

“Why?”

342

Gabriel’s Rapture

“I don’t think you comprehend the depth of my feeling for you.

It goes beyond wanting to be near you, or to protect you. I want you to be happy, and I want you to be treated you with respect.”

“You can’t break off people’s fingers when they’re rude to me.”

He made a show of stroking his chin thoughtfully. “I suppose not.

What can I do? Strike them with the collected works of Shakespeare?”

“In one sturdy volume? Of course.”

They shared a laugh before falling silent for a moment.

“I wanted to communicate what had happened behind closed

doors, but I was ordered not to talk to you. That’s why I spoke in code. Except I stupidly quoted Abelard, forgetting that you and I had different interpretations of his relationship with Héloise. I should have quoted Dante, Shakespeare, Milton, anyone.” He shook his head.

“You were so angry. You accused me of fucking you. Julianne…”

Gabriel’s voice broke as he pronounced her name. “Did you really

think so lowly of me? To think that was how I would choose to say

good-bye?”

Julia looked away, avoiding the intensity of his gaze. “What

was I supposed to think? You wouldn’t talk to me. You left the next morning without leaving a note. And then at the hearing, suddenly

it was over.”

“I didn’t trust myself to speak with words. When I made love to

you, I thought you understood what I was trying to say — that we’re one. That we’ve always been one.”

“You were talking about our conversation in the hallway after

the hearing,” she prompted, eager to change the subject. “I don’t

understand how they could have forced you to leave the city.”

“They couldn’t, really. Jeremy simply wanted my word that I’d

stop seeing you.”

She folded her arms in front of her. “Then why did you leave?”

“Jeremy discovered I broke my promise before we exited the

building. He demanded I break things off with you and swear on

my honor that I would stay away from you. I’d already told him I’d do anything if he helped us. I had no choice.”

Julia thought back to her exit interview with the Dean and Pro-

fessor Martin, just before graduation. “Why did Jeremy think you

343

Sylvain Reynard

broke your promise? You wouldn’t talk to me or answer my messages.

You sent me an email telling me it was over.”

“I know. I’m sorry. I’d hoped you’d read between the lines and

realize it was just for the administration. I’d sent you another email before that from my Gmail account, saying it was only temporary.”

“No, you didn’t.”

He retrieved his phone. Scrolling through a few screens, he settled on something. Then he fixed distressed and haunted eyes on hers.

“After the hearing, I ducked into the men’s room and quickly

sent you an email.” He gently took her hand. “Here,” he said, giving her the phone.

Julia quickly glanced at the screen.

Beatrice, I love you. Never doubt that. Trust me, please. G.

She blinked several times, trying to assimilate what she saw typed in black and white with what she’d experienced. “I don’t understand.