Gabriel's Promise (Gabriel's Inferno)

by Sylvain Reynard

  Julianne’s hand found Gabriel’s and squeezed. The two of them joined the congregation in reciting the Lord’s Prayer, adding their thanks for their family and Katherine, but especially for Clare.

  Many thoughts and emotions cascaded through Gabriel’s mind, along with the resolution to stay close to his wife and child.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Later that afternoon, Gabriel made a telephone call to Julianne’s uncle Jack.

  Jack Mitchell was a private investigator who had helped Gabriel on more than one occasion, particularly when Julianne’s ex-roommate had threatened to post compromising videos of her on the Internet.

  Gabriel described the black car that he’d seen in the neighborhood and asked Jack to look into it. Jack grunted and agreed, complaining that Gabriel’s description wasn’t much to go on.

  Now Gabriel approached the threshold of his bedroom, holding a pair of champagne flutes. From the doorway, he could hear Julianne softly singing.

  He peered into the room and found her holding Clare against her shoulder and dancing.

  Julianne was singing a nursery rhyme to Clare, who appeared to be dozing. The baby’s head was uncovered and her hair was damp from her bath.

  Gabriel was surprised at how curly the baby’s hair was.

  Her mother’s movements slowed as she came to the end of the song. She kissed Clare’s cheek and placed her on her back in the playpen.

  Gabriel watched as Julianne retrieved a stuffed lamb from a nearby chair and pressed a button on its back. The muffled sound of a human heartbeat lifted from the toy.

  Gabriel craned his neck and saw her put the toy in a corner of the playpen.

  He entered the bedroom and placed the champagne flutes on a nearby table before closing the door.

  Julia lifted her head and smiled. “Hi.”

  “How was the bath?” Gabriel handed her some ginger ale.

  Julia took the glass eagerly. “Good. It amazes me how her hair curls when it’s wet. You and I don’t really have curly hair.”

  Gabriel chuckled and clicked his glass of ginger ale against hers. “To Clare Grace Hope Rachel Emerson.”

  “To Clare Grace Hope Rachel Emerson.”

  Julia sipped her drink and sighed happily.

  He took her hand and led her to a large, leather club chair that sat near the window. She put their drinks on the side table and sat on his lap.

  “It was a long day.” He positioned her so her side nestled into his shoulder.

  Julia winced as her right leg ached.

  “Is something wrong?” Gabriel’s blue eyes examined her.

  “Just stiff,” she lied. She retrieved their glasses.

  He fastened his arm around her. “How are your feet?”

  She wiggled her left foot. “They’re fine. I knew we’d be standing a lot today, so I didn’t wear heels.”

  “Ah.” Gabriel resisted the urge to complain. He opened his mouth in order to suggest a private viewing, but Julia spoke first.

  “Rachel is very happy we added her name to Clare’s.”

  “Yes.” Gabriel frowned, thinking of his sister and her woes. “I tried to talk to her today but she wouldn’t engage.”

  “She was probably worried about spoiling the party.”

  “Hmmm.” Gabriel did not sound convinced.

  “Everyone around her has a baby, when she’s the one who really wanted to be a mother. She needs time to grieve.”

  “Humph.” He sipped his drink.

  Julia tapped the slight divot in his chin. “Don’t humph me, Professor. Grieving is a process.”

  “You are not wrong.” Gabriel kissed her nose. “But I was trying to help by speaking to her today and she shut me out.”

  “She needs time to process what has happened.”

  “I suppose so.” Gabriel changed the subject. “Let’s talk about the abomination that’s now standing in our front garden.”

  “I have no idea what you mean.” Julia hid her face behind her champagne flute.

  “You know exactly what I mean, Mrs. Emerson. We can’t have kitsch in the front yard.”

  “I think it’s funny.”

  Gabriel shook his head at her. “I have to admit, the sunglasses were a nice touch.”

  “Thank you.” Julia bowed slightly. “Katherine’s gift to Clare is incredible. It’s interesting she went to the Cassirers in order to research the manuscript.”

  “Yes. I haven’t spoken to Nicholas since I told him we were going to loan the Botticelli illustrations to the Uffizi. He joked about a family myth that said the illustrations must be kept secret.” Gabriel sipped his drink again. “Which reminds me, Dottor Vitali called the day before yesterday. He wanted to know if we would consider extending the exhibition.”

  “What did you say?” Julia finished her ginger ale.

  “I said I had to speak to you. I’m inclined to refuse.”

  “Darling.” She put her glass aside. “What are a few more months?”

  “They’ve had them long enough. They are precious to me.”

  “Okay, Gollum.” Julia kissed him to soften her criticism.

  Gabriel glared, his blue eyes razor sharp. “What if they get damaged? Or lost?”

  “From the Uffizi?” Julia laughed. “They’re guarded day and night. They’re safer in the Uffizi than they are in your study.”

  Gabriel rubbed his chin. “Vitali said that the exhibit was bringing in a great deal of revenue. It’s helping the gallery finance the restoration of Primavera.”

  “See? It’s a great benefit. You know how I feel about that painting. Maybe we can see the restoration while it’s in progress.”

  “Vitali won’t refuse you.” Gabriel sighed. “All right. I’ll tell him we will extend the loan until next summer.”

  “The end of the summer,” Julia amended. “You know that the summer is their busiest time.”

  “Fine,” he grumbled. “Humph.”

  Julia laughed and kissed his frown. “Thank you.”

  “The president of Boston University wrote to me, congratulating me on the Sage Lectures. He’s scheduling a reception after the gala in Edinburgh.”

  “That’s great, sweetheart.”

  “Edinburgh tells me I’ll be expected to say a few words after they announce me in October.” Gabriel’s eyes fixed on hers. “Will you come to my talk?”

  “Of course. So long as Rebecca agrees to watch Clare.”

  Gabriel’s shoulders relaxed. “Good. We’ll leave for Edinburgh the third week of October, but it will be a short trip.”

  “We need to be home for Halloween.”

  Gabriel looked puzzled. “What’s so important about Halloween?”

  “We need to take Clare trick-or-treating.”

  Gabriel’s eye twitched. “Can we take a baby trick-or-treating?”

  “Sure we can. Why not?”

  Gabriel nodded slowly, as if the wheels of his mind were turning. “We need to choose an appropriate costume.”

  “For her or you?”

  “Very funny. Although I’m more interested in seeing you in costume.” He licked his lips.

  Julia grinned. “All right, Professor. I’ll see what I can do.”

  “Good.” He cleared his throat. “Edinburgh pays its Sage Lecturers a large sum of money. The chairman of my department, along with the dean, has granted me a research leave for next year so that I can relocate to Scotland. But they’ll still pay my salary.

  “I don’t need two salaries. We live very comfortably, so I was thinking . . .” He paused and searched Julianne’s eyes.

  “The orphanage in Florence.” Her brown eyes lit up. “They do so much with so little. Imagine what they could do with a year of your salary.”

  “I confess I had thought the same thing. I
could continue on my salary from BU and donate the Sage money. It would allow the orphanage to help more children.”

  “The Italian government won’t let us adopt a child until we’ve been married for three years. I know we spoke of adopting Maria.” Julia appeared saddened.

  “I hope for her sake a family finds her before that.” Gabriel’s arm tightened around Julia’s waist. “But if we’re agreed, I’d like to donate to the orphanage.”

  “But quietly.” Julia rested her head on his shoulder. “I’d rather no one knows but the orphanage and us.”

  “Of course. Elena and her team do good work there. I’m glad we can support them.”

  Julia yawned.

  “I’m supposed to announce the subject of the Sage Lectures at the gala in Edinburgh,” Gabriel continued. “My book on the seven deadly sins is almost finished. But I’ve decided to write something else for the lectures. I considered writing a book-length comparison of the relationship between Abelard and Héloïse with that of Dante and Beatrice. But again, I think I’ll save that. For the Sage Lectures, I want to focus on The Divine Comedy, while bringing in sections from La Vita Nuova. What do you think?” He turned his attention more fully to his wife.

  Julia made a noise that could only be described as a snore.

  “Darling?” Gabriel touched her face, but she was fast asleep.

  He smiled, gazing from one sleeping female in his arms to the other, who was fast asleep in her playpen. In this house, he was surrounded by women. And he’d never been happier.

  “All right, little mama. Time for bed.” He lifted her into his arms and carefully carried her across the room. He placed her under the sheets and studiously tucked her in.

  He brushed the hair from her forehead and stroked her cheek with the back of his fingers.

  “I’m glad you’re coming with me to Scotland.” He kissed her tenderly and switched off the light.

  Chapter Twenty

  Richard entered the kitchen just as Rebecca finished cleaning up after dinner.

  “Would you like to join me on a walk?”

  If Rebecca was surprised by his invitation, she hid it well.

  “I’d like that.” Her tone was bright as she removed her apron. She hung it on a hook inside the pantry.

  Richard gestured in the direction of the hall and she preceded him, patting her salt-and-pepper hair and straightening her dress.

  He opened the side door for her and the two stepped out into the late September air.

  Rebecca was tall at five foot eleven. She was almost as tall as Richard. Her features were plain but her eyes were pretty and so was her smile.

  Richard situated himself so that he walked on Rebecca’s right, next to the road.

  There were no signs of fall, at least not yet. The temperature was still warm in the evening. Although the cul-de-sac of Foster Place was thickly settled with older houses built very close together, it was quiet.

  “Have you always lived in New England?” Richard began the conversation. They left the cul-de-sac and turned right on Foster Street.

  “Always. My family is from Jamaica Plain, but my husband and I moved to Norwood when we got married. He passed away twenty years ago.”

  “I’m so sorry.” Richard’s tone was sincere.

  “He was a good man. When he died, my mother moved in with me and my son. I cared for her until she died. Gabriel hired me a few months after that.”

  “I’m sorry you lost your mother. I’m very grateful for how you’ve looked after my son and daughter, and now my granddaughter.”

  Rebecca smiled. “I’m the kind of person who needs to look after someone else. My son took a job in Colorado and moved away. My daughter lives in Sacramento. It made sense to rent out my house and move in with Gabriel and Julia. But he’s on the lookout for an apartment for me in Cambridge. Eventually, they will need their own space.”

  Richard nodded thoughtfully.

  She turned her body toward him. “And you’re a professor?”

  “That’s right. I taught biology at Susquehanna University, but I retired when my wife died.”

  “I’m sorry.” Rebecca made eye contact with him.

  “Thank you.” He sighed. “I’m afraid I made rather a mess of things. I retired from Susquehanna and took a research position in Philadelphia, so I could be closer to my daughter and my son, Scott. But I never saw them. I found I missed the house I shared with my wife. So I resigned my post and moved back. Now I’m teaching one course a semester at Susquehanna as a professor emeritus.”

  “I can understand you wanting to stay in the house,” Rebecca commiserated. “I can’t bring myself to sell our home in Norwood, although I know I’ll have to sell it eventually.”

  Richard’s handsome face looked weary. “Do you mind if I ask you a question?”

  “Not at all.”

  “Does it get better?” Richard’s gray eyes were earnest.

  Rebecca looked up at one of the many trees that lined Foster Street. “I know what you want to hear, because it’s what I wanted to hear when I lost my husband. You want to hear that time heals and grief disappears.

  “I’ll be honest with you—grief doesn’t go away. You will always miss that person, because you loved her and you miss her company. My husband has been gone for twenty years and I still miss him every day. And every night.” She smiled ruefully. “But the pain lessens over time. I’m able to talk about him and look at photos and remember the good times. But it was a process.”

  Richard looked stricken. “I had hoped you’d tell me it would get better.”

  She placed a comforting hand on his arm. “Some things get better. But for me, the grief is still there.

  “I’ve found a second family with your children. I get to borrow books from Gabriel’s library and make my favorite family recipes for him and Julia. Now I get to help with the baby and make sure Julia takes care of herself. It feels good to be needed. I have a role. I have a purpose.”

  Richard stuck his hands in his pockets. “Yes, it’s good to be needed.”

  “Your children need you. They need you in some way to be both parents for them, and that’s difficult.”

  “Yes.” Richard seemed to be processing her assessment.

  “Life won’t be the same, but it can still be a good life. Spending time with family and friends is important.”

  “I agree.”

  The pair continued walking in silence.

  At length, Richard spoke. “Thank you, Rebecca.”

  “It’s my pleasure. I’m happy to talk to you whenever. I’m only a phone call away.”

  “I’d like that. I’m beginning to realize I spend too much time alone.”

  “There were days, even weeks, when I didn’t leave my house after my husband died. I just didn’t want to go anywhere.”

  Richard bobbed his head.

  Rebecca paused, making eye contact once again. “Could I give you a piece of unsolicited advice, widow to widower?”

  Richard chuckled. “Go ahead.”

  “Whether you decide to remarry again or not, take it slow. Develop a friendship with the woman first. I’ve seen too many people jump into another relationship full speed ahead, only to have it end in disaster when they realize they truly aren’t compatible.”

  “That’s good advice. One of my old friends in Selinsgrove was trying to get me to sign up to a dating website. He told me that’s how the young people do it.”

  “Young people.” Rebecca huffed. “They live their entire lives online. They’re always connected to a device. We should take dating advice from them? Pfffttt.”

  Richard grinned. “Good point.”

  “I don’t want to go back to the old ways, either, when they used matchmakers or whatever. I can pick my own damn husband.”

  Now Richard was laughing. �
��I dare anyone to tell you otherwise.”

  “Damn straight.” Rebecca laughed with him.

  “But friendship is important, as you mentioned. Someone to talk to, to have dinner with. Yes, this is important.” He turned to face her. “Rebecca, may I take you to dinner?”

  She paused for just a moment. “Yes. Though I’ll need to make arrangements with your children.”

  “I think they can get along without you for one evening.”

  “I have my doubts.” She grinned.

  The pair exchanged smiles and continued their walk.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  October 2012

  Edinburgh, Scotland

  Professor Emerson was impatient with mediocrity.

  Julia was well aware of this. But it amused her to see the Professor wrestling with his adherence to excellence in all things while simultaneously transporting a six-week-old baby to Europe.

  The University of Edinburgh, in keeping with their official travel policies, booked Professor Emerson a coach seat. The Professor impatiently upgraded his seat to first class and booked an adjacent seat for Julia, as well as a seat across from them for Rebecca.

  The university arranged for a taxi to ferry Professor Emerson and his family to their hotel. The Professor dismissed the taxi (almost wrathfully) and hired a private driver and Range Rover to be at his beck and call during the duration of his visit.

  The university arranged for a graciously appointed king bedroom at the Waldorf Astoria Caledonian hotel for the Emersons. The Professor promptly placed Rebecca in the king bedroom, and for himself and his family he booked the Alexander Graham Bell suite, which provided a view of Edinburgh Castle.

  “They’re going to think you’re a diva,” Julia whispered, as the bellhops delivered their luggage, stroller, and baby implements to their suite.

  “Nonsense,” Gabriel said primly. “I’m covering the additional expense. What’s it to them?”

  Julia bit her lip, wondering how to explain it. But when she saw the view of the castle through the enormous windows, she decided to let it go. Edinburgh was beautiful. The suite was beautiful. And she was very, very tired.