The young woman nodded and turned her head as if someone was calling her from the hallway. She quickly shifted her gaze back to Gabriel.
“I’m glad I met you. It wasn’t possible before. But I’ll see you again.” She smiled and turned toward the door.
Gabriel followed her. “I didn’t catch your name.”
She looked up at him expectantly. “Don’t you recognize me?”
“I don’t. I’m sorry. Although there’s something familiar about your eyes…”
She laughed and Gabriel smiled in spite of himself, for her laughter was infectious. “Of course my eyes are familiar; they’re yours.”
Gabriel’s smile slid off his face.
“Don’t you know me?” She seemed puzzled.
He shook his head.
“I’m Maia.”
His expression froze. Then, as the moments passed, it ranged through several different emotions, like clouds floating across the sky on a summer’s day.
She pointed to the tattoo he wore on his left pectoral. “You didn’t have to do that.” She leaned forward, whispering conspiratorially. “I know that you loved me.
“I’m happy here. It’s filled with light and hope and love. And it’s so beautiful.”
She reached up and kissed him on the cheek, her touch lingering for only a second, before she left him to walk to the hallway.
Chapter 40
Tom stood at Julia’s front door the day after her graduation, wearing a gray T-shirt with the word Harvard emblazoned across the chest.
“Dad?” Julia’s tone was a question.
“I’m so proud of you,” he said gruffly, pulling her into a hug.
Father and daughter shared a quiet moment on the porch of Julia’s building before they heard someone coming up the steps behind them.
“Uh, good morning. I brought breakfast.” Paul held a tray containing three coffees and some doughnuts from Tim Horton’s. He seemed somewhat embarrassed at having intruded on the Mitchells, but he was greeted with a handshake from Tom and a hug from Julia.
The trio shared breakfast at Julia’s card table, then the two men began planning how best to pack up all of her things and move them. Luckily, Paul had persuaded Sarah, who was subletting to Julia, to allow her to move into the Cambridge apartment on June fifteenth.
“Um, Katherine Picton invited me to lunch today. But I don’t have to go.” Julia spoke quickly. She didn’t want to leave Tom and Paul working while she went on a social call.
“You don’t have a lot of stuff, Jules.” Tom quickly appraised her studio’s contents. “We’ll let you pack your clothes while we start on the books. I’m sure we’ll be close to finished by the time you have to see your professor.” He smiled and tousled her hair with his hand before disappearing into the washroom, leaving Paul and Julia alone.
“You don’t have to do this. Dad and I will be fine.”
Paul frowned. “When are you going to accept the fact that I’m here because I want to be? I don’t leave, Julia, not when I have a reason to stay.”
Julia stiffened uncomfortably, and her eyes quickly fixated on the half-finished coffee in front of her.
“If Professor Picton summoned you, it’s because she wants to talk to you. You’d better go.” Paul squeezed Julia’s hand lightly. “Your old man and I can handle things around here.”
Julia exhaled slowly and smiled.
* * *
There were a few intimate things that Julia did not want her father or Paul to see so she hid them in her L. L. Bean knapsack. The items were not what one might expect a young woman to hide from her father—a journal, diamond earrings, and a few items related to her counseling sessions.
Nicole had been pleased by Julia’s progress, and when they concluded their final session, gave her the name and contact information of a counselor near Harvard. Nicole had not only helped Julia cope, she was passing her into another set of capable hands that would help her take the next steps in her journey.
Julia wore a dress and modest sandals to Professor Picton’s house, thinking that an invitation to lunch warranted attractive garb. She carried her knapsack on one of her shoulders and clutched a tin of what she was told was a very fine loose Darjeeling tea, which she’d purchased as a hostess gift. She and her Darjeeling were received with typical Pictonian restraint and immediately ushered into the dining room where they enjoyed a very pleasant lunch of prawn salad, cold cucumber soup, and a fine Sauvignon blanc.
“How is your reading list coming along?” Katherine asked, eying Julia over her soup.
“Slowly but surely. I’m reading the texts you’ve suggested, but I’ve only started.”
“Professor Marinelli is looking forward to meeting you. It would be good for you to introduce yourself to her when she arrives in Cambridge.”
“I’ll do that. And thank you.”
“It would be beneficial for you to meet the other Dante specialists in the area, especially at Boston University.” Katherine smiled sagely. “Although I’m sure circumstances will arrange themselves so you end up being introduced to them eventually. But if they don’t, promise me that you will you drop by the Department of Romance Studies at BU before September.”
“I will. Thank you. I don’t know what I would have done…” Julia’s voice trailed off as she warred with her emotions.
Surprisingly, Katherine reached across the table and patted Julia’s hand. She touched her awkwardly, as a distinguished bachelor professor might pat the head of a crying child, but not without feeling.
“You’ve graduated with honors. Your thesis is solid and could form the basis of what will hopefully be a fine dissertation. I look forward to watching your career with interest. And I think you will be very happy in Cambridge.”
“Thank you.”
When it was time for her to leave, Julia intended to shake Katherine’s hand but was surprised when she was pulled into a restrained but warm hug.
“You’ve been a good student. Now go to Harvard and make me proud. And drop me an email now and then to let me know how you are.” Katherine pulled back and looked at Julia fixedly. “It’s quite possible I’ll be giving a lecture in Boston in the fall. I hope we’ll run into one another.”
Julia nodded her agreement.
As she walked to her small studio on Madison Avenue, she stared in wonder at the gift Professor Picton had placed in her hands. It was a worn and rare early edition of Dante’s La Vita Nuova that had belonged to Dorothy L. Sayers, who had been a friend of Katherine’s dissertation director at Oxford. In it was Sayers’s marginalia, written in her own hand. Julia would treasure it always.
No matter what Gabriel had done, persuading Katherine Picton to be her thesis advisor was a gift so great she would be forever in his debt.
Love is doing a kindness for someone else, not expecting to receive anything in return, she thought.
* * *
Early the next morning, Julia, Tom, and Paul loaded everything into the back of a U-Haul and drove eight hours to the Norris farm, which was located just outside of Burlington, Vermont. The Mitchells were warmly welcomed and were persuaded to stay a few extra days so Ted Norris, Paul’s father, could take Tom fishing.
Julia silently doubted that any other inducement would have delayed his rigorous schedule, but that was before either of them had tried Louise Norris’s cooking. Paul’s mother was an excellent cook who made everything, including doughnuts, from scratch. Tom’s stomach was in love.
On June fifteenth, the night before the Mitchells and Paul were supposed to leave for Cambridge, Paul couldn’t sleep. His father had called him out of bed well after midnight because of a bovine emergency. By the time the crisis was averted, he was far too agitated to go back to bed.
He had two women on his mind. Allison, his former girlfriend, had been visiting when he arrived with Julia two days earlier. They were still friends, so the gesture was well meant, but Paul knew that part of her reason for being there was to size Julia up. He’d told Allison about Julia at Christmas, so she was more than aware of Julia’s presence in his life and his attachment to her. An attachment that he had to admit was unrequited, at least, at that time.
Still, Allison was friendly to Julia, and of course, Julia was her own shy but charming self. It was awkward for Paul as he watched his past and his potential future make small talk while he fumbled for something to say.
When Allison called his cell phone before bed that evening and said that Julia was lovely, he didn’t know how to respond. Of course he had feelings for Allison. They had a long and good history as friends before they began dating. He loved her still. But she’d broken things off with him. He’d moved on and met Julia. Why should he feel guilty?
While Paul was contemplating his very complex (yet simultaneously non-existent) love life, Julia was wrestling with insomnia. When she finally grew weary of tossing and turning she decided to creep from the third floor garret she was occupying to the kitchen to get a glass of milk.
She found Paul sitting alone at the large, harvest table, eating a rather expansive dish of ice cream.
“Hi.” He took in her appearance with a swift but appreciative look.