Gabriel's Promise (Gabriel's Inferno 4)

“Of course. And if it finds a girlfriend while we’re gone, you may have little ones all over your lawn. Again.” Rachel laughed loudly as she got into the car.

Gabriel muttered a curse as he gazed out at his beautiful front lawn. He was just about to return to his SUV when he turned his head, facing toward the street that ran perpendicular to Foster Place. A black Nissan with tinted windows was idling just beyond the intersection.

Gabriel approached the sidewalk and began walking in the direction of the car.

The driver placed the car in reverse just as Gabriel began to approach it. Breaking into a jog, he reached the intersection in time to see the car speed off.

He was not able to get the license plate number.

* * *

“What name do you give your child?” Father Fortin addressed Gabriel and Julia.

They stood at the front of St. Francis’s Chapel with Katherine Picton. Gabriel held Clare in his arms.

This was the Emersons’ parish. They could have attended church closer to their home in Cambridge, but there was something about the chapel and the Oblates of the Virgin Mary who served it that made Gabriel and Julia feel at home.

He and Julianne replied to the priest in unison, “Clare Grace Hope Rachel.”

A murmur lifted from the pews, as Gabriel and Julia’s family reacted. Richard, who sat near the front row, could barely contain his emotion, while Rachel’s solemn expression morphed into a grin.

Julia had dressed the baby in Rachel’s christening dress—a long, white silk-and-satin garment that was embroidered with flowers and had short sleeves—and a lace-edged bonnet, tied with a long pink ribbon.

Clare looked like a princess. Gabriel had taken hundreds of photographs of her before they left the house, posing her alone and with her family.

As the baby began to frown, Julianne held a pacifier at the ready.

“What do you ask from God’s church for Clare Grace Hope Rachel?” Father Fortin asked.

“Baptism.” Again, Gabriel and Julianne replied in unison.

The priest asked if they understood their duty as parents, and they affirmed their understanding. Then he addressed Katherine, who pledged her commitment as godmother.

Gabriel took his role as a father very seriously. Even now, as he stood before the congregation and before God asking for his child to be baptized, he meditated on the myriad promises he was obliged to make and to keep, as he sought to parent this little life.

After a few words, Father made the sign of the cross on the baby’s forehead, inviting the three adults to do the same. The family made a short procession to the dais, where the Scripture was read and the homily was delivered.

Gabriel found his mind wandering, even though his gaze was fixed on Clare.

He thought about his own spiritual journey. He thought about his struggle with addiction and the loss of his first child. His hand itched to touch the name that was inked on his skin.

He thought about Grace and her love for him—a love that gave rise to adoption and a family. A love that had been reciprocated over time.

He thought about Richard and his siblings. He thought about Rachel and her own recent struggles. He thought about how he was surrounded by family. Scott, Tammy, and Quinn sat in a pew with Richard, Rachel and Aaron, Tom and Diane Mitchell, and their son Tommy.

Gabriel’s biological sister Kelly sat with her husband in the pew across from Scott. Rebecca sat with them. A select group of friends and fellow parishioners sat farther back.

For someone who had spent a lot of his childhood alone and lonely, Gabriel was surrounded by a large family. And Katherine, one of the greatest Dante specialists of her time, who had somehow adopted him and his wife, agreeing to pass along her support and love to Clare.

The baby fussed in his arms, and Julia gave her the pacifier. She gazed up at her mother and settled, her sky blue eyes open and curious.

Gabriel hadn’t thought he’d ever have another child. In fact, he’d had a medical procedure to ensure it would never happen. Then everything changed. Everything had changed when a brown-eyed angel in jeans and sneakers had sat beside him on a back porch.

Gabriel recalled his time in Assisi, during his separation from Julianne, and how he had encountered grace and forgiveness in St. Francis’s crypt. He remembered his earnest prayers that Julianne would forgive him and marry him. That God would bless them with a child.

He held in his arms a miracle—the extravagance of grace that had been bestowed on someone who was proud and sometimes angry, intemperate and addictive, lustful and profligate.

Forgiveness was not for the sinless or the perfect. Mercy was not for the just. He had to learn to name and acknowledge his own shortcomings before he could receive the remedies. The remedies themselves challenged him to treat other needy souls with mercy and compassion. Julianne was a shining example of that.