Gabriel lowered his gaze and tapped his fingers against the steering wheel.
Julia tousled his dark hair. “Maybe we should keep a few of the flamingos? For the garden?”
Gabriel speared her with a glare.
“I’m kidding.” She held up her hands in surrender. “Try to look happier than that, okay?”
“Fine.” Gabriel exhaled beleagueredly. He turned off the car and climbed out.
“What took you so long?” Rachel gave her brother a perfunctory hug and opened the SUV’s rear door. “We’ve been waiting all morning.”
Gabriel leaned over the open door, watching as Rachel climbed into the back seat. “They had to check Julianne and Clare before discharging them. And they inspected the baby’s carrier and car seat before we left.”
“Well, that’s good,” Rachel replied. “But it shouldn’t have taken three hours. How slowly did you drive?”
Gabriel brushed imaginary lint from his sport coat. Then he took a closer look at the back seat.
“Just a minute, Rachel,” he cautioned. “I need to unfasten the baby carrier from the base.”
“Hurry up. But go over to Julia’s side because I’m not moving.” Rachel leaned over her sleeping niece and her grin widened. “Hi, Clare.”
Julia reached across the baby to touch her friend’s arm. “I love the flamingos.”
“I knew you’d appreciate them.” Rachel beamed. “Dad was hesitant, but I thought they were hilarious. Even Scott chipped in.”
“We need to take a picture of Gabriel with the flamingos and send it to Scott.”
Rachel laughed. “Absolutely. He’ll blow it up into a poster and hang it on his wall.”
Julia removed the baby’s knitted cap to expose the shock of dark hair. She pointed to the pink barrette she’d carefully fastened. “Clare is wearing the gift you brought us yesterday.”
“It matches her pink sleepers.” Rachel gently touched the baby’s head. Her expression shifted minutely.
Julia studied her friend. A trace of sadness was present in Rachel’s eyes, but only for a moment.
Rachel smiled at her sleeping niece. “I bought a few more hair accessories last night. Since she has so much hair, we’ll have to style it.”
Julia nodded. “Gabriel will have to carry her. I’m not supposed to lift anything over nine pounds because of the stitches.”
Rachel glanced at Julia’s middle. “That bites.”
“No biting.” Gabriel winked at his sister before helping Julia out of the car. “I’m glad you’re here.”
“So am I.” Rachel watched as he carefully removed the baby carrier and turned toward the house.
“Not so fast.” She followed him. “I want to carry her.”
With eyes twinkling, Gabriel handed over the carrier, but not before instructing her to be careful. He greeted Richard, their father, and the two men stood next to the door, holding it open.
Julia accompanied Rachel into the house. “Thanks for staying. I know it was a bit longer than you’d planned.”
Rachel held the baby carrier with both hands as they approached the kitchen. “I wasn’t going to leave before you came home. Aaron had to work, otherwise he’d be here, too.”
“It means a lot. I know you’ve been fielding phone calls and deliveries and everything else.”
Rachel shrugged. “That’s what families do, Jules. They take care of each other. I’m just lucky I had some vacation days left. Rebecca has been spoiling us with her cooking. You should see what she made for lunch.”
“Good. I’m starving.” Julia’s stomach was already rumbling. She stepped into the kitchen.
The kitchen table was set with the Emersons’ best china, silverware, and crystal. Pink helium-filled balloons were tied to Julia’s chair at the foot of the table, and a huge arrangement of pink and white roses formed a centerpiece. Almost every surface of the kitchen was covered with food, flowers, or brightly wrapped presents.
“Surprise!” An older woman with short white hair and gray-blue eyes stepped forward.
“Katherine?” Julia fanned a hand over her mouth.
“I thought you were in Oxford.” Gabriel shook off his surprise and greeted his former colleague with a kiss on the cheek.
“I was. I came to Cambridge to meet my goddaughter.” Professor Picton embraced Julia and stepped back, her eyes sparkling. “Can I hold her?”
“Of course.” Gabriel removed Clare from her baby carrier, pressing a kiss to her head before transferring her to Katherine’s arms.
Clare opened her big blue eyes.
Katherine smiled. “Hello, Clare. I’m your aunt Katherine.”
The baby opened her tiny rosebud mouth and yawned.
“Clare is a beautiful name,” Katherine continued, undeterred by the infant’s sleepiness. “I thought your parents might have named you Beatrice. But I can see you look more like a Clare.”
“There’s only one Beatrice.” Gabriel placed his arm around Julia’s shoulders.
“Oh, what fun we’ll have,” Katherine whispered to the child. “I’ll teach you Italian and all about Dante and Beatrice. When you’re old enough, I’ll take you to Florence and show you where Dante lived.”
The baby seemed to stare at her aunt. Katherine bent closer and recited,
“‘Donne ch’avete intelletto d’amore,
i’ vo’ con voi de la mia donna dire,
non perch’io creda sua laude finire,
ma ragionar per isfogar la mente.’”
Gabriel recognized the lines from Dante’s La Vita Nuova, as Katherine quoted his praise for the lovely Beatrice.
Julia stood, frozen.
Then suddenly, like an unexpected cloudburst at a picnic, Julia began to cry.
Chapter Four
The room grew very still.
Everyone looked at Julia, who clapped a hand over her mouth as she tried to suppress her sobs.
Richard, Katherine, Rebecca, and Rachel stood in shock, not knowing what to do.
“Give us a minute,” Gabriel murmured, his arm still wrapped around Julia’s shoulders. He led her into the living room to a quiet corner near the window.
“Darling, what’s the matter? Are you in pain?” Stricken, he bent to look at her.
Julia closed her eyes as the tears flowed. She shook her head.
Gabriel pulled her against his chest. “I don’t understand. Do you want everyone to leave?”
She shook her head again.
He rested his cheek against her hair. “I didn’t know they were planning all this.”
“There are twice as many balloons,” she mumbled.
“Is helium dangerous for babies?”
“No. Yes. I don’t know.” She fisted his shirt. “That’s not the point. There are twice as many gifts and flowers than what we had at the hospital. And there are flamingos on our lawn!”
“I can remove the flamingos, darling.” Gabriel kissed her hair. “I’ll do that now.”
“This isn’t about the flamingos.” Julia dipped her hand in one of the pockets of Gabriel’s jacket, eventually retrieving a handkerchief. She waved it in front of him. “I’m glad I bought you this.”
She blew her nose.
“A gentleman always carries a handkerchief, for just such occasions.” He caressed her back, his concern escalating. “You’re upset about the flamingos, but you don’t want me to remove them?”
“The kitchen is filled with presents. Katherine came all the way from England and quoted Dante!” Julia burst into tears again.
Gabriel frowned, for the sight of her tears pained him. “Of course there are presents. People give gifts to babies. It’s a tradition.”
“How many of my relatives are in the kitchen?” She dabbed at her nose.
Gabriel’s hea
rt constricted. “Your father and Diane wanted to be here, but Tommy is sick. You’ll see them soon.” He wiped Julia’s tears away with his thumbs. “The kitchen is filled with family, our family. People who love you and Clare.”
She swallowed hard. “I miss your mom. I miss . . .”
Gabriel winced. There was an ocean of pain in Julianne’s unfinished sentence. She’d had an unhappy childhood with a mother who was sometimes abusive, sometimes indifferent.
“I miss Grace, too,” Gabriel admitted. “I think we will always miss her.”
“I’ve only been a mother for a couple of days, but I love Clare so much, I’d do anything for her. What was wrong with Sharon?” Julia whispered, clinging to her husband.
Gabriel gazed down at his wife. “I don’t know.”
His answer was true. How does one explain indifference and cruelty? He’d experienced both from his biological father. And eventually he came to realize that any attempt to explain such behavior was futile, because explanations often masqueraded as excuses. And he would not countenance excuses.
He placed his hands on her shoulders and squeezed. “I love you, Julianne. We love each other, and we love Clare. We didn’t begin our lives with the best role models, but think of who we have now: everyone in our kitchen, and Tom and Diane, and Scott and Tammy, and everyone else we love. We get to create our own family, for Clare.”
“She won’t know what it’s like to have a mother who doesn’t love her.” Julia’s tone grew fierce.
“No, she won’t.” Gabriel’s embrace tightened. “And she has a father who loves her and her mother very much.”
Julia wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “I’m sorry for ruining the party.”
“You haven’t ruined anything. It’s your party. You can cry, if you want to . . .”
Julia laughed and it was like the sun coming out after the rain. Then, inexplicably, she lifted up on tiptoes to peer over Gabriel’s shoulder through the front window. “Our lawn is covered in flamingos.”
Gabriel’s lips twitched. “Yes. Yes, it is.”
“I kind of like them.”
“I think you’re sleep-deprived.” He kissed her forehead.
“I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I want to laugh about those silly flamingos and I want to cry because we have such a great family. And I’m hungry.”
“Dr. Rubio warned us your recovery would take longer because of the complications. You’ve been feeding the baby every two to three hours. Of course you’re hungry.”
“I want to put a flamingo in the nursery.”
Gabriel’s head jerked back.
A flamingo will ruin the aesthetic we’ve painstakingly created, he thought. It’s a crime against interior design.
He changed the subject. “Maybe you should take a nap and I’ll send everyone home?”
“That would be difficult. With the exception of Katherine, everyone is staying with us.”
“Right.”
“Now who’s sleep-deprived, Professor?” Julia grinned and took his hand.
Gabriel rubbed his forehead with his other hand. “I’ll book rooms at the Lenox. It’s a nice hotel.”
Julia looked up at his earnest blue eyes and worried expression. She squeezed his hand. “Don’t send them away. I’m fine. Really.”
Gabriel gave her a dubious look.
As she leaned against him, he was seized by the memory of her in the delivery room. She was lying on a gurney, pale and very still. The doctor had shouted at the nurses to escort him out of the room.
He’d thought she was dead.
He felt his heart stutter and placed his hand on his chest.
Julia peered up at him. “Gabriel, are you all right?”
He blinked.
“I’m perfectly well.” He covered up his agitation by kissing her firmly. “I’m concerned about you.”
Before Julia could respond, a throat cleared nearby.
They turned to find Rebecca, their housekeeper and friend, standing near the doorway. Rebecca was tall, with bobbed salt-and-pepper hair and large dark eyes.
She crossed over to the couple and gave Julia a concerned look. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” Julia lifted her arms at her sides. “Just weepy.”
“Hormones.” Rebecca patted her on the shoulder. “It will take time for your body to get back to normal. You may find your feelings going up and down.”
“Oh.” Julia’s features relaxed, as if Rebecca’s words were a revelation.
“I had the same experience when my son was born. I was laughing one minute, crying the next. But it settles out. Don’t worry. Do you want to lie down? I can postpone lunch.”
Julia looked at Gabriel. He lifted his eyebrows.
“No, I want to see everyone. And I want to eat.” She looked longingly in the direction of the kitchen.
“Lunch is almost ready. Take your time.” Rebecca hugged Julia and exited the living room.
“I forgot about the hormone fluctuation.” Julia gazed up at Gabriel. “I feel lost.”
“You aren’t lost.” Gabriel’s tone was firm. He lifted Julia’s chin and took her lips in a slow, sweet kiss. “We will never be lost, so long as we have each other.”
Julia kissed him. “I’m so glad you’re here. I can’t imagine trying to navigate this by myself.”
Gabriel pressed his lips together. Once again, he remembered the important email but decided it was not the appropriate moment to mention it.
He gestured toward the window. “We have a thousand and one flamingos on our front lawn. You’re far from alone.”
Julia looked up into Gabriel’s very serious, slightly irritated face. And she burst out laughing.
Chapter Five
That afternoon, Gabriel glared at a myriad of metal attachments, screws, and plastic pieces, which were arranged with military precision atop the nursery carpet.
(It should be noted there were no flamingos in sight.)
He cast a baleful look at an empty box on which an infant swing was jauntily displayed and scowled again at the arranged pieces. “Son of a—”
A throat cleared behind him.
Gabriel turned to see Richard standing in the doorway, holding Clare.
The infant was fussing and Richard was doing his best to soothe her, holding her close and moving back and forth.
“Where’s Julianne?” Gabriel approached the doorway and lightly touched the baby’s head.
“Taking a well-earned nap. Clare is supposed to be napping as well, but she isn’t settling. I said I’d walk her around and see if she’d nod off.” Richard spoke in low, soothing tones while rubbing gentle circles on the infant’s back.
“I can take her.” Gabriel held out his arms.
“Oh, no. I’m eager to have as much time with my new granddaughter as possible. We’ll keep you company.” Richard stepped nimbly around the many metal pieces and went to stand by the window. “How’s it going?”
Gabriel gestured vaguely at the detritus on the carpet. “I’m wrestling a baby swing.”
Richard chuckled. “I’ve done that before. And put together bicycles and impossible-to-assemble toys on Christmas Eve. My advice is to ignore your instinct to figure it out yourself and follow the instructions.”
“I have a PhD from Harvard. Surely I can figure out how to put together a baby swing.”
“I have a PhD from Yale.” Richard’s gray eyes sparkled. “And I know enough to read the instructions.”
Gabriel smiled wryly. “Well, I can’t have a Yalie outdo me.” He stuck his head into the large box and retrieved a booklet of directions. He adjusted his glasses. “These are in Chinese, Spanish, Italian, and German.”
“I put together one of those swings when Grace and I brought Scott home from the hospital. I’d been up a
ll night and put the legs on backward. I couldn’t figure out why it wouldn’t balance until Grace fixed it.”
Gabriel snickered and peered more closely at the booklet. “The Italian directions don’t make any sense. They must have hired a first-year student to translate them. I shall have to write a letter to the company.”
Richard regarded his son with barely disguised amusement. “Perhaps you should assemble it first.” He cleared his throat. “Scott’s delivery was relatively easy compared to Clare’s. Julia looked pale when I left her a few minutes ago.”
Gabriel lowered the instructions. “I’ll go check on her.”
“Rachel was in there with her plumping pillows and drawing the blinds. But you should probably look in on her soon.”
Gabriel rubbed his eyes behind his glasses. “The delivery did not go as expected.”
Richard bowed his head so he could see Clare’s face. Her eyes were closed. He slowed his movements, still rocking back and forth. “Julia will need care and lots of support. Are you on leave or—”
“Ah. Here’s the English part.” Gabriel hid his face as he pored over the instructions. “Yes, I’m on paternity leave.”
Richard lifted his head. “Julia is supposed to resume her coursework next September, correct? And you’ll be teaching?”
Gabriel bristled. “That’s what I do.”
Given the email he’d received that morning, it was extremely unlikely, if not impossible, that he’d be teaching at Boston University the following year. But he hadn’t disclosed that fact to anyone, including Julianne.
He crouched down and began rearranging the pieces to the swing according to the printed instructions. “We’re glad you and Rachel were able to stay. We intend to have Clare baptized this week at our parish. We’re going to ask Rachel to be the godmother.”
“I’m sure she will be delighted. And I’m glad we will be able to attend the baptism.” Richard appeared disquieted at his son’s transparent attempt at deflection. “How are you coping with everything?”
“I’m fine.” Gabriel sounded impatient. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
Gabriel's Promise (Gabriel's Inferno) Page 2
