Gabriel's Rapture

“Because I’m not an Existentialist; I’m a Dantean.”

 

 

She wrinkled her nose. “Very funny, Professor. With a name like Emerson, I would have thought you to be a Transcendentalist.”

 

“Hardly.” He kissed her wrinkles affectionately. “I exist in order to please you.

 

“We will be happy, Julianne, but don’t you see that in order to get to the happiness, you have to address the pain of the past?”

 

She squirmed but didn’t respond.

 

“I was thinking about visiting Maia’s grave.” He cleared his throat. “I’d like to take you with me.” His voice was hesitant and barely above a whisper. “I’d like you to see it. That is, if you wouldn’t find it morbid.”

 

“I’d be honored. Of course I’ll go with you.”

 

“Thank you.” He pressed his lips to her forehead.

 

“Gabriel?”

 

“Yes?”

 

“I didn’t tell you everything that happened with Sharon. Or with Simon.”

 

Gabriel rubbed at his eyes. “I didn’t tell you everything about my past, either.”

 

“Does it bother you? That we haven’t told one another everything?”

 

“No. I’m willing to listen to anything you have to say. But truthfully, there are some things I don’t want to discuss about my life. So I understand your reticence to lay bare your history.” He locked eyes with her. “The important thing is that you address those events with someone. I’m sure that talking things over with Dr. Walters is good enough.”

 

He kissed her once again and held her close, meditating on how far they’d come in their individual journeys and how far they still needed to go.

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 51

 

 

In October, Gabriel persuaded Julia to travel to his house in Selinsgrove for the weekend in order to congregate with their relatives. Rachel and Aaron insisted on doing all the cooking during the weekend, while Tammy’s little boy, Quinn, entertained everyone, including Tom, with his smiles.

 

“How is married life treating you?” Gabriel asked Aaron as he assembled the ingredients for a salad.

 

“Really well. You should try it sometime.” Aaron winked at Julia as he took a long pull from his Corona.

 

“That’s an idea.” Gabriel smiled smugly and went back to his salad.

 

“Cut the crap, Gabriel. When are you going to put a ring on that woman’s finger?” Rachel’s voice floated across the kitchen from the oven.

 

“She has one.”

 

Rachel left her chicken Kiev unattended and raced across the kitchen to examine Julia’s left hand.

 

“That doesn’t count.” She pointed to Julia’s thumb, which was encased by Gabriel’s platinum band.

 

Julia and Rachel exchanged a look and shook their heads.

 

Gabriel regarded the way that Julia’s countenance fell and quickly abandoned his salad (which was laden pretentiously with both fruit and nuts), and hastily embraced her.

 

“Trust me,” he whispered, so quietly that no one else could hear.

 

She murmured her acquiescence, and he squeezed her tightly before kissing her.

 

“Get a room.” Aaron snickered.

 

“Oh, we have one.” Gabriel glanced at him sideways.

 

“We have two, actually.” Julia sighed in resignation.

 

When they sat down for dinner, Richard asked everyone to hold hands while he said the blessing. He thanked God for his family, for Tammy, Quinn, and Julia, for his new son-in-law, and for the friendship of the Mitchells. He thanked God for his wife and her memory and he pointed out that the seeds she had planted with her children, her husband, and her friends had come to fruition. And when he said “Amen,” everyone wiped at their eyes and smiled, more thankful than they could say that the family was together and strong once again.

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 52

 

 

After dinner, Tammy and Scott cleaned up while Rachel and Aaron practiced their parenting skills with Quinn. On the back porch, Richard and Tom smoked cigars and drank Scotch, while watching old Mr. Bancroft carry things from the garage into the woods. Richard gave Tom a knowing look, and the two men clinked glasses.

 

Inside the house, Gabriel took Julia’s hand and led her upstairs. “Wear something warm,” he said as they walked into her room. “I want to take you for a walk.”

 

“It isn’t that cold out,” she remarked, as she pulled on one of Gabriel’s old cashmere cardigans.

 

He’d divested his wardrobe of cardigans after Julia informed him that they made him look like a grandfather.

 

(Or a PBS host.)

 

Upon hearing that, Gabriel was only too glad to donate his cardigans to the Salvation Army, with the exception of one or two that Julia rescued.

 

“I don’t want you to catch cold,” he protested, tugging playfully on her sweater.

 

“I have you to warm me,” she countered, winking at him.

 

After winding her Magdalen College scarf around her neck, Gabriel escorted her downstairs, through the kitchen and outside.

 

“Going for a walk, Emerson?” Tom’s voice surprised them.

 

“With your permission, Mr. Mitchell.”

 

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