“Fine. Talk to you later.”
And with that, Julia’s largely uninformative conversation with Thomas Mitchell of Selinsgrove came to an end.
She spent the next hour reassuring Rachel that yes, she was fine and no, Gabriel was (perhaps surprisingly) no longer being an ass. She also convinced Aaron that she had enough money from her scholarship to purchase a flight. She mentioned her father’s scheduling conflict and promised that she would join the Clarks for Thanksgiving dinner Thursday night.
More than slightly exhausted, she spent another hour persuading Gabriel that it was not a good idea for them to share a bed every evening, especially when there was the possibility that someone connected with the university could see them entering or leaving one another’s apartments. He had acquiesced, albeit grumpily, while exacting a promise for another sleepover before seven days had elapsed.
Julia did not want to be the cause of Gabriel losing his job, so she was determined to limit the possibilities that they might be seen together. She was also determined not to spend every night in his bed, for she knew where that would lead. She was still struggling to trust him, her reticence more than reasonable given the fact that he had only changed his disposition toward her recently. And he’d all but admitted that his passion for her was teetering on the edge of his control.
Julia did not want to be persuaded into doing things she was not ready to do. She didn’t want to give him part of herself and return to her apartment feeling used and lonely, as she had so many times with him. No, Gabriel was not him. But that fact made her no less cautious, although she wanted to trust him.
Despite her self-protection, Julia slept far more peacefully with Gabriel than without him, and every day she didn’t see him her heart ached.
***
Monday afternoon found Julia answering her doorbell. A delivery person stood outside, holding a large, white box. She signed for it, and when she returned to her studio, she opened a card that was attached to the box. The card had the initials G. O. E. embossed on the top and was handwritten: Dear Julianne,
Thank you for sharing yourself
with me Friday night.
You have the heart of a lion.
I would dearly like to tame you, slowly,
but without the tears or the good-bye.
Yours,
Gabriel
P.S. I have a new, private e-mail account
at your disposal:
Julia opened the box and was immediately captivated by a beautiful fragrance. Inside, she was stunned to find a large glass bowl filled with water. Suspended on the surface of the water were seven gardenias. She carefully removed the bowl from its packaging and placed it on her card table, inhaling deeply as the perfume began to permeate the room.
She re-read Gabriel’s note and eagerly opened her laptop so that she could send him a quick e-mail from her Gmail account:
Dear Gabriel,
Thank you for the gardenias; they’re lovely.
Thank you for your card.
Thank you for listening.
Looking forward to seeing you soon,
Julia
XO
***
On Wednesday afternoon, Julia met Paul by the mailboxes before Professor Emerson’s seminar. They exchanged pleasantries and chatted briefly before they were somewhat rudely interrupted by Julia’s cell phone. The call was (miraculously) from Dante Alighieri, so of course, she answered it.
“I have to take this,” she murmured to Paul apologetically before she walked into the hall.
“Hello?”
“Julianne.”
She smiled widely at the sound of his voice. “Hello.”
“Will you join me for dinner?”
She looked around quickly to ensure that she was alone. “Um, what did you have in mind?”
“Dinner at my place. I haven’t seen you since Saturday. I’m beginning to think you only want e-mail correspondence now that you have my new address.” Gabriel chuckled.
Julia breathed deeply, glad that he wasn’t irritated with her. “I’ve been getting ready for my next meeting with Katherine. You’ve been working on your lecture, so…”
“I need to see you.”
“I want to see you too. But we’ll see each other in a few minutes.”
“I need to speak to you about that. We’re going to have to pretend as if nothing happened in my last seminar. I’ll probably ignore you, just for effect. I wanted to tell you in advance so that I wouldn’t upset you.” He paused for a moment. “Of course, all I want to do is touch you, but we need to keep up appearances.”
“I understand.”
“Julianne…” he began, dropping his voice, “I don’t like this any more than you do. But I would like to have you join me for dinner tonight, so I can make it up to you. After, we can spend a quiet evening by the fire enjoying one another’s company. Before bed.”