Gabriel's Rapture (12 page)

“It’s the same God. I’ve gone to church with your family before.” Julia searched his expression. “Don’t you want to go?”

“Church is not the place for me.”

“Why not?”

“I haven’t gone in years. They’ll…judge me.”

She looked up at him in earnest. “We’re all sinners. If only non-sinners went to church, the churches would be empty. And I doubt very much that the people in Richard’s church will judge you. Episcopalians are very welcoming.”

She gave him a quick peck on the cheek and disappeared into the bedroom to lay out her clothes. He followed her into the bedroom and collapsed on the bed, watching her rifle through the hangers in the closet.

“Why do you still believe in God? Aren’t you angry with him for all of the things that happened to you?”

Julia paused what she was doing in order to regard him. He looked very unhappy.

“Bad things happen to everyone. Why should my life be any different?”

“Because you’re good.”

She looked at her hands. “The universe isn’t based on magic—there isn’t one set of circumstances for the good and one for the evil. Everyone suffers sometime. The question is what you do with your suffering, right?”

He gazed at her impassively.

She continued. “Maybe the world would be a lot worse if God didn’t exist.”

He cursed softly, but didn’t argue.

She sat next to him on the bed. “Did you ever read
The Brothers Karamazov?”

“It’s one of my favorites.”

“Then you know the conversation between Alyosha, the priest, and his brother Ivan.”

Gabriel snickered, but not unkindly. “I suppose I’m the rebellious free thinker, and you’re the religious boy?”

Julia ignored him. “Ivan gives Alyosha a list of reasons why either God doesn’t exist or if he exists, that he’s a monster. It’s a very powerful discussion, and I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about it.

“But remember how Ivan ends his discussion. He says he rejects God’s creation, this world, and yet, there’s one aspect of the world that he finds surprisingly beautiful—the sticky little leaves he sees on the trees in the spring. He loves them even though he hates the world around them.

“The sticky little leaves aren’t faith or salvation. They’re the remnant of hope. They stave off his despair, demonstrating that despite the evil he has seen, there is at least one good and beautiful thing left.”

She moved so she could see Gabriel’s expression more clearly, and very tenderly, she placed a hand on either side of his face. “Gabriel, what are your sticky little leaves?”

Her question took him entirely by surprise. So much so he simply sat there, staring at the pretty brunette in front of him. It was in moments like this that he remembered why he’d initially thought she was an angel. She had a compassion about her that was rare in human beings. At least, in his experience.

“I don’t know. I’ve never thought about it before.”

“Mine was Grace. And you.” She smiled at him shyly. “And even before that, there were the Salvation Army workers back in St. Louis who were kind to me when my mother wasn’t. They gave me a reason to believe.”

“But what about the suffering of the innocent? Of children?” Gabriel’s voice was barely above a whisper. “What about the babies?”

“I don’t know why babies die. I wish they didn’t.” Julia wore a grave expression.

“But what’s wrong with the rest of us, Gabriel? Why do we allow people to abuse their children? Why don’t we defend the sick and the weak? Why do we let soldiers round up our neighbors and make them wear a star on their clothing and cram them into boxcars? It isn’t God who’s evil—it’s us.

“Everyone wants to know where evil comes from and why the world is riddled with it. Why doesn’t anyone ask where goodness comes from? Human beings have a tremendous capacity for cruelty. Why is there any goodness at all? Why are people like Grace and Richard so kind? Because there’s a God, and he hasn’t allowed the earth to be entirely corrupted. There are sticky little leaves, if you look for them. And when you recognize them, you can feel his presence.”

Gabriel closed his eyes, drinking in her words with her touch, knowing in his heart that she had spoken a very deep, very profound truth.

Try as he might, he could never stop believing; even in his darkest days the light had not gone out. He’d had the guidance of Grace, and providentially, when she died, he met his Beatrice again, and she’d shown him the rest of the way.

He kissed her chastely, and when she left him to shower, he marveled at her quiet brilliance. She was far more intelligent than he, since her intellect was marked with a true creative originality that he only dreamed of having. Despite everything that had happened to her, she had not lost faith or hope or charity.

She is not my equal; she is my better.

She is my sticky little leaf.

* * *

An hour later Julia and Gabriel drove to All Saints Episcopal Church. Gabriel wore a black suit and white shirt, proudly displaying Julia’s cufflinks, while she wore a plum-colored dress that skimmed the bottom of her knees, and tall black boots that he’d purchased for her in Florence.

A sea of awkwardness.
That’s how Gabriel would have described the atmosphere as he sat with Julianne at the end of the family pew.

He was grateful for the liturgy, the order, and the way in which Scripture and music were used in the service. He found himself contemplating his life and the steps that led him to the beautiful woman who held his hand throughout the service.

Christmas was a celebration of birth—one birth in particular. All around him he saw babies and children: the manger scene at the front of the church, the banners and stained glass windows, and the glowing skin of the pregnant woman who was seated across the aisle.

In one brief moment, Gabriel realized that he regretted his sterilization, not just for himself and the fact that he was no longer able to father a child, but also for Julianne. He imagined lying in bed with a very pregnant Julia and placing his hand on her stomach in order to feel their child kick. He thought about holding their infant son in his arms, shocked by the array of dark hair on his head.

His imaginings startled him. They marked a shift in character and priority, away from the guilt and selfishness that had marked his life up until the reappearance of his Beatrice. A shift toward the permanence of a commitment to a woman with whom he wanted to create a family, with whom he wanted to create a child. His love for Julianne had changed him in multiple ways. He hadn’t been aware of how dramatic the changes were until he gazed at the pregnant stranger with a kind of wistful envy.

Those were the thoughts that occupied his mind as he held Julianne’s hand until it was time to participate in the Eucharist. He was the only one in the family pew who didn’t stand and file to the center aisle in order to walk to the communion rail.

There was something comforting about church, he thought. Although he found the overall experience, especially the homily, convicting. He had wasted a good deal of his life—years that he could never get back.

He hadn’t told Grace the things he’d wanted to tell her before she died. He hadn’t treated Paulina or Julianne with the dignity that they deserved. He hadn’t treated any of the women with whom he’d been involved with respect.

In thinking of Paulina, Gabriel tore his eyes away from the dark haired woman in the pretty plum dress and hung his head, praying almost unconsciously for forgiveness and also for guidance. He was walking a tightrope, he knew, between taking responsibility for his past indiscretions and eliminating Paulina’s dependence on him. He prayed that she would be able to find someone who would love her and help her put the past behind her.

Gabriel was so deep in prayer that he didn’t notice his family squeeze past him to retake their seats, or Julia’s warm hand snake through the crook at his elbow, pressing herself soothingly to his side. And he didn’t notice the moment in the service, just before the benediction, when his father broke down into silent, shoulder-shaking tears, and Rachel placed her arm around him, leaning her blond head to his shoulder.

The Kingdom of Heaven is like a family
, thought Julia, as she watched Rachel and Scott hug their father.
Where love and forgiveness replace tears and suffering.

After lunch, Rachel marshaled her family into helping her prepare the large turkey dinner. Julia spoke briefly to Tom on the phone, exacting his promise that he would arrive around three o’clock in order to participate in the gift exchange, then she and Rachel parked themselves in the kitchen to peel apples for a pair of pies.

Rachel had cheated and bought the pastry, but had removed it from its Pillsbury packaging and placed it in between layers of plastic wrap in the refrigerator so no one would know.

“Hey, pretty girls.” Scott entered the kitchen, wearing an overly large grin, and began rummaging in the fridge.

“What has you so happy?” asked his sister, peeling an apple.

“The Christmas season.” He chuckled as Rachel stuck her tongue out at him.

“I hear you met someone,” prompted Julia.

Scott began assembling a plate of leftovers, ignoring her comment.

Rachel was about to reprove her brother for his bad manners when the telephone rang. She answered it, disappearing into the dining room when she discovered it was her future mother-in-law.

Scott turned around immediately and gave Julia an apologetic look. “Her name is Tammy. I’m not ready for everyone to give her the third degree.”

“I understand.” Julia gave him a small smile and returned to the apple she was peeling.

“She has a kid,” he blurted. He leaned his large body back against the counter, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

Julia put her paring knife down. “Oh.”

“He’s three months old. They live with her parents. She couldn’t come without him because she’s breastfeeding.” Scott’s voice was low, just above a whisper, and his eyes kept traveling to the doorway that led to the living room.

“When you introduce her to your family, you should bring him too. They’ll welcome both of them.”

“I’m not so sure.” Scott looked very uncomfortable.

“They’ll be happy to have a baby around. Rachel and I will fight over him.”

“What would you think if your son came home with a girlfriend who was a single mother? And the baby belonged to another guy?”

“Your parents adopted Gabriel. I don’t think your dad would object.” Julia exhaled slowly, giving Scott a searching look. “Unless your girlfriend is married.”

“What? No! Her ex-boyfriend left her when she was pregnant. We’ve been friends for a while.” He ran his fingers through his hair, pulling on it so it almost stood straight on end. “I’m worried my Dad will think it’s weird for me to be dating a woman with a newborn.”

Julia pointed in the direction of the manger scene that was displayed under the Christmas tree in the next room.

“Joseph and Mary had a similar story.”

Scott looked at her as if she’d sprouted a second head.

Then he chuckled, turning back to his sandwich. “That’s a good point, Jules. I’ll have to remember that.”

* * *

Later that afternoon, the family gathered around the Christmas tree to open gifts. The Clarks were a generous family, and there were lots of presents, some serious, some in jest. Julia and her father each received their fair share.

When everyone was admiring their gifts and drinking egg nog, Rachel plunked the last present on Gabriel’s lap. “This arrived for you this morning.”

“Who is it from?” He eyed it in confusion.

“I don’t know.”

Gabriel gave Julia a hopeful look, but she shook her head.

Eager to uncover the mystery, he began to rip off the wrapping paper. He slid his fingers in between the cover of the white box and its bottom, separating the two, lifted the lid of the box carefully, and peeled back the layers of white tissue paper.

Before anyone could see what he’d uncovered, he shoved the box aside, springing to his feet. Without a word, he strode quickly to the back door, slamming it behind him.

“What was it?” Scott’s voice broke the silence.

Aaron, who witnessed what had just transpired from the hallway, entered the room. “I bet it’s from his ex. I’d lay money on it.”

Julia stumbled to the kitchen and across the back porch, following her lover’s retreating form.

“Gabriel? Gabriel! Wait.”

Large, fat snowflakes fell like feathers from the sky, blanketing the grass and trees in cold whiteness. She shivered.

“Gabriel!”

He disappeared into the woods without a backward glance.

She hastened her pace. If she lost sight of him she’d have to return to the house. She wouldn’t risk being lost in the woods again without a coat. Or a map.

She began to panic, remembering her recurrent nightmare about being trapped in the woods, alone. “Gabriel! Slow down.”

Pushing her way into the trees, she traveled a few feet before she saw him, pausing in front of a tall pine.

“Go back to the house.” The arctic tone of his voice matched the falling snow.

“I’m not leaving you.”

She walked a few more steps. At the sound of her approach, he turned around. He was clad in a suit and tie, wearing expensive Italian shoes that were now ruined.

One of her high heels caught on a branch, and she pitched forward, breaking her fall by clinging to the trunk of a tree.

Gabriel was at her side in an instant. “Go back to the house before you get hurt.”

“No.”

Her hair was long and curling over her shoulders, arms now crossed in front of her chest because of the cold. A light dusting of white covered her head and her plum dress.

She looked like a snow angel—a figure one might find in a fairy tale or a snow globe, the dancing flakes hovering around her like friends. He was reminded of the time he surprised her in his library carrel and a ream of paper had been tossed into the air, falling all around her.

“Beautiful.”
He was momentarily distracted by the sight of her. The warmth of his mouth caused his words to form clouds in the air between them.

She held out her pink and naked hand. “Come back with me.”

“She’s never going to let me go.”

“Who?”

“Paulina.”

“She needs to start a new life. She needs your help.”

“Help?” He glared at her. “You want me to
help
her? After she got on her knees and tried to take my pants down?”

“What?”

He clenched his teeth, cursing his own stupidity. “Nothing.”

“Don’t lie to me!”

“It was a desperate attempt by a desperate woman.”

“Did you say no?”

“Of course! What do you take me for?” His eyes flamed a dangerous blue.

“Were you surprised?”

A muscle jumped in his jaw. “No.”

Julia closed her hands so tightly her nails dug into her palms. “Why?”

Gabriel glanced at the trees behind her, unwilling to answer her question.

“Why weren’t you surprised?” she repeated, her voice growing louder.

“Because this is what she does.”

“Does or did?”

“What’s the difference?” he snapped.

Julia’s eyes narrowed. “If I have to explain it to you, then we are more damaged than I thought.”

He didn’t want to answer her. His recalcitrance was telegraphed by his eyes, his face, even his body.

She gave him a piercing stare.

Gabriel’s eyes flickered over her shoulder, into the distance, almost as if he were looking for an escape. Then he looked at her again.

“She’d show up on occasion and we’d…” His voice trailed off.

Julia felt ill. She screwed her eyes shut. “When I asked if Paulina was your mistress, you said no.”

“She was never my mistress.”

Julia’s eyes flew open. “Don’t play word games with me! Especially about your fuck buddies.”

He ground his teeth together. “That’s beneath you, Julianne.”

She laughed without amusement. “Oh, yes. It’s beneath me to tell the truth. But you can lie through your teeth!”

“I never lied to you about Paulina.”

“Yes, you did. No wonder you were so angry when I called her your fuck buddy in the Dante seminar. I was right.” Julia gave him a shattered look. “Were you with her in your bed? In the bed we slept in together?”

Gabriel lowered his eyes.

She began to back away from him. “I am so angry with you right now, I don’t know what to say.”

“I’m sorry.”

“That isn’t good enough,” she called, walking away from him. “When was the last time you slept with her?”

He followed her quickly, reaching out to grasp her arm.

“Don’t touch me!” She pulled back, stumbling over a tree root.

Gabriel caught her before she fell. “Just wait a minute, okay? Give me a chance to explain.” Satisfied that she was on surer footing, he released her.

“When I met you in September, things with Paulina had ended. I hadn’t been with her since last December, when I told her that we needed to stop once and for all.”

“You led me to believe that you ended things with her at Harvard. Do you have any idea how much this hurts? Do you have any idea how stupid this makes me feel? She traipses into your parents’ house as if she belongs there—as if I’m the fuck buddy. And no wonder! You’ve been sleeping with her for
years.”

Gabriel shifted his shoes in the snow. “I was trying to protect you.”

“Tread very carefully, Gabriel. Tread very, very carefully.”

He froze. He’d never heard her use that tone before. All at once, he felt himself losing her. The mere idea was crippling.

He began speaking very quickly. “We only saw each other once or twice a year. As I said, I haven’t been with her since last December.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “Did you expect me to catalogue each and every sexual encounter I’ve ever had? I told you I had a past.”

Gabriel’s eyes met hers. He held her gaze, taking a tenuous step forward.

“Do you remember the night I told you about Maia?”

“Yes.”

“You told me I could find forgiveness. I wanted to believe you. I thought if I told you how I gave in to Paulina again and again, I’d lose you.” He cleared his throat. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“Are you lying to me now?”

“No.”

Her expression was skeptical. “Do you love her?”

“Of course not.” He took another cautious step in her direction, but she held her hand up.

“So you slept with her for years—after you made a child with her and she had a nervous breakdown—but you didn’t love her?”

His lips thinned. “No.”

He saw tears shimmering in her big, dark eyes and watched as she fought them, her pretty face marred with sadness. He closed the distance between them, removing his suit jacket and tenderly placing it around her shoulders.

“You’ll catch pneumonia. You should go back to the house.”

She clutched his jacket, bringing the lapels up to her neck.

“She was Maia’s mother,” Julia whispered. “And look how you treated her.”

Gabriel stiffened.
Maia’s mother.

Julia and Gabriel stood silently, noticing briefly that the snow had ceased falling.

“When were you going to tell me?”

Gabriel hesitated, his heart beating a furious tattoo in his chest. He wasn’t entirely sure what he would say until the words escaped his lips.

“I wasn’t.”

She turned around and began to walk in the direction she thought would lead back to the house.

“Julia, wait!” He came after her, tugging at her arm.

“I told you not to touch me!” She pulled her arm back, glaring at him furiously.

“You made it clear that you didn’t want to know the details of what I was like before we met. You said you forgave me.”

“I did.”

“You knew I was lustful,” he reproved her, softly.

“Clearly, I thought there were limits.”

Gabriel recoiled, for her remark had cut him. “I deserved that,” he said, the temperature of his voice rivaling that of the snow on the ground. “I didn’t tell you everything and I should have.”

“Was the Christmas gift from her?”

“Yes.”

“What was it?”

Gabriel’s shoulders slumped. “An ultrasound picture.”

Julia inhaled roughly, making a wheezing sound as the bracing winter air filled her lungs. “Why would she do such a thing?”

“Paulina assumes I’ve kept everything secret. She’s right, of course, when it comes to my siblings. But she assumes I haven’t told you. This was her way of ensuring I did.”

“You used her.” Julia’s teeth began chattering. “No wonder she won’t let you go. You fed her with scraps, like a dog. Would you treat me like that?”

“Never. I know that I treated Paulina abominably. But that doesn’t give her the right to hurt you. You’re innocent in all of this.”

“You misled me.”

“Yes. Yes, I did. Can you forgive me?”

Julia was quiet for a moment, rubbing her hands together against the cold. “Have you ever asked Paulina to forgive you?”

Gabriel shook his head.

“You toyed with her heart. I know what that’s like. I can have compassion for her because of that.”

“I met you first,” he whispered.

“That doesn’t give you license to be cruel.” Julia coughed a little as the cold air burned her throat.

He pressed a light hand to her shoulder. “Please go back. You’re cold.”

She turned to leave and Gabriel reached out to catch her hand.

“I felt something for her, but it wasn’t love. There was guilt and lust, and some affection, but never love.”

“What will you do now?”

He wrapped his arm around her waist, drawing her into his side. “I’ll resist the urge to react to the present she left and try my damnedest to make things up to you. You’re who I want. I’m so sorry to have injured you.”

“Maybe you’ll change your mind.”

He held her more tightly, his expression fierce. “You’re the only one I have ever loved.”

When Julia didn’t respond, he began walking with her toward the house. “I would never be unfaithful, I swear it. As far as what Paulina tried to do yesterday…” He squeezed her waist. “There was a time when I could have been led astray. But that was before I found you. I would rather spend the rest of my life drinking your love, then emptying all the oceans of the world.”

“Your promises are meaningless when they aren’t accompanied by honesty. I asked if she was your mistress, and you played a word game with me.”