“We’ll hire special movers—movers accustomed to moving libraries. They’ll take your books off the shelf, pack them in order, and replace them on your shelves here in Cambridge exactly the way they were in Toronto. You wouldn’t have to do a thing.”
“Moving companies don’t know how to catalogue books,” she scoffed. “What if they mis-shelve something? I have thousands of volumes in my library, and I might never be able to find what they misplace. And what if they lose something? Some of those books are irreplaceable!”
“Professor Picton, if you would accept the endowed chair, I’ll come to Toronto and move your books personally.”
Katherine paused for a moment until she realized that Greg was serious. Then she burst into peals of laughter.
“Harvard sounds very accommodating.”
“You have no idea,” he muttered, hoping that she would change her mind.
“I’m not interested. There are lots of younger persons you should be considering instead of a sixty-eight-year-old retiree. While we’re on the subject of your department, I want to talk to you about my graduate student, Julianne Mitchell, and why I think you need to admit her to your doctoral program.”
Katherine spent ten minutes telling Greg why it had been a mistake for him to fail to offer Julianne adequate funding the previous year. Then Professor Picton impressed upon him the need for Julianne to receive a lucrative fellowship beginning in September. Finally, when she finished scolding him and effectively telling him how to do the job of the Director of Graduate Studies (which was not, in fact, his job), she promptly hung up.
Greg stared at the phone in his hand with a look of incredulity.
*
During the last week of January, Julia was weightless, floating and happy, the skin on her neck now perfect through medical technology. Her scar removal was healed, and no one would ever know that she’d been marked. Therapy was going well and so was her relationship with Gabriel, although on occasion he seemed distracted and she would have to call his name to bring him back to her.
She’d just finished an amiable coffee with Paul, during which they discussed Christa’s recent inexplicable good mood and was on her way to the library when she received a telephone call that would change her life. Greg Matthews offered her early acceptance into the doctoral program in Romance Languages and Literatures at Harvard, on a very generous fellowship, for the fall semester.
The acceptance was conditional on the satisfactory completion of her MA at the University of Toronto, but as Professor Matthews pointed out, given her letters of recommendation and the glowing endorsement offered by Professor Picton, Julia should have no problem completing her degree. Professor Matthews was eager to hear Julia’s acquiescence to the offer, but he knew that most graduate students would need a little time to think about it, and so he asked her to telephone him with her decision in seven days.
Julia was surprised at how calm and professional she sounded on the phone. Of course, she wasn’t doing much talking. After the call ended, she texted Gabriel with trembling, nervous fingers.
Harvard just called—they want me.
Conditional on my MA. Love, J.
A few minutes later, she received a reply.
Congratulations, darling. In a meeting.
My place—one hour? G.
Julia smiled at her iPhone and quickly completed her library errands before walking to the Manulife Building. She was excited but worried. On the one hand, her admission to Harvard was the culmination of her dreams and hard work. On the other, Harvard represented separation from Gabriel.
Bolstered by Doctor Nicole’s encouragement to be kind to herself, Julia decided to have a hot shower in order to allow herself a few minutes to think. She left a note on the hall table where Gabriel always dropped his keys and proceeded to make herself at home in his spacious bathroom. Fifteen minutes later she was half-asleep under the tropical rain showerhead.
“This is a welcome sight,” Gabriel whispered, opening the door to the shower. “A warm, wet, and naked Julianne.”
“There’s room for a warm, wet, and naked Gabriel too,” she said, grasping his hand.
He smiled. “Not right now. We should celebrate. Where would you like to go to dinner?”
There was a time when Julia would simply have accepted Gabriel’s suggestion because she wanted to make him happy. But on this occasion, she spoke up. “Can we just stay in? I don’t want to be around a lot of people.”
“Of course. Let me change and I’ll be right back.”
By the time Gabriel returned, Julia was standing in the center of the bathroom, wrapped in a towel.
He handed her a flute of champagne and they clinked their glasses together.
“I have something to give to you,” he said, disappearing into the bedroom. He returned a moment later with something crimson in his hands. He held it up so she could read the lettering on the front.