Looking at the photograph on his bedside table he thought about her graduation. How beautiful and proud she would have looked in her robes. With a sigh, he closed his book of poetry and turned out the light.
In the darkness of his old bedroom in the Clarks’ former house, he reflected on the past weeks. He’d left Italy and traveled to Boston and Minnesota. He’d promised the Franciscans he’d return, for they’d said (wisely) that they prized his presence more than his donations. With that thought in mind, he closed his eyes.
*
“Gabriel, it’s time to get up.”
Groaning, he kept his eyes shut, hoping the voice would go away. Sleep was peaceful and he needed it.
“Come on. I know you’re awake.” The voice laughed softly, and he felt the mattress dip next to his legs.
He opened his eyes and saw his adoptive mother sitting on the edge of his bed. “Is it time for school?” he asked, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.
Grace laughed again, the sound light and airy like music. “You’re a bit old to be going to school, at least as a student.”
He looked around, confused. Then he sat up.
She smiled warmly and held out her hand. He relished the feel of her soft hand in his before squeezing it.
“What’s the matter?” She gave him a puzzled look that was not unkind, as he held her hand in both of his.
“I never said good-bye. I wasn’t able to tell you—” He paused and inhaled quickly. “That I love you.”
“A mother knows these things, Gabriel. I’ve always known.”
He was momentarily overcome with a wave of emotion as he reached over and pulled her into a hug. “I didn’t know you were sick. Rachel told me you were getting better. I should have been there.”
Grace patted him on the back. “I want you to stop blaming yourself for everything. You made the best decision you could given the information you had at the time. No one expects you to be omniscient—or perfect.”
She pulled away so she could see his face. “You shouldn’t expect it of yourself, either. I love all my children, but you were my gift from God. You’ve always been special.”
Mother and son spent a moment or two in quiet communion before she stood up, smoothing her dress.
“There’s someone I’d like you to meet.”
Gabriel wiped his eyes, pulling back the blankets and swinging his flannel covered legs to the floor. He stood up, trying to comb his hair, momentarily forgetting that he was shirtless. Grace went into the hallway then came back, with her arm around a young woman.
Gabriel stared.
The woman was young, although she seemed ageless. Her hair was long and blond, her face a flawless white, and she was slender and tall. Her eyes were familiar. Striking sapphire blue eyes greeted his, accompanied by a wide, pink smile.
Gabriel gave Grace a questioning look.
“I’ll let you two talk,” she said, and disappeared.
“I’m Gabriel.” He smiled politely and extended his hand.
She shook it, grinning happily in return. “I know.” Her voice was soft and very sweet. It reminded Gabriel of a little bell.
“And you are?”
“I wanted to meet you. Grace told me what you were like as a child, about your work as a professor. I like Dante too. He’s very funny.”
Gabriel nodded, not quite understanding.
The young woman looked up at him wistfully. “Will you tell me about her?”
“Who?”
“Paulina?”
Gabriel stiffened, and his eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Why?”
“I never knew her.”
He rubbed at his eyes with the heels of his hands. “She went to see her family in Minnesota, to try to reconcile with them.”
“I know. She’s happy.”
“Then why do you ask?”
“I want to know what she’s like.”
He took a moment to carefully construct what to say. “She’s attractive and smart. She’s stubborn. She speaks several languages and she cooks well.” He chuckled. “But she’s not especially musical. She can’t carry a tune in a basket.”
The young woman giggled. “So I’ve heard.” She eyed Gabriel curiously. “Did you love her?”
He looked away. “I think I love her now, in a way. We were friends in the beginning, when I met her at Oxford.”
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.”