Gabriel's Redemption (Gabriel's Inferno 3)

“Miss Peterson, I need to speak to you.”

“Of course.” Christa obediently followed the professor into her office.

Professor Barini left the door ajar before sitting behind her desk.

“I’d like to thank you for taking my advice about Professor Pacciani. I noticed that he didn’t make the short list.” Christa made no attempt to hide her exultation.

Lucia ignored the comment and retrieved a file, quickly leafing through its contents. Then she looked at Christa over the rims of her glasses. “You’ve run into a problem.”

“A problem? What kind of problem?”

“You’re supposed to choose three professors to sit on your oral examination committee, but I’ve been notified by the faculty that no one is willing to do so.”

“What?” Christa’s dark eyes grew wide.

“This has never happened before. As the chair, I cannot compel a faculty member to serve on your committee. And even if I could, I wouldn’t. Their lack of willingness to participate indicates that they don’t think you’ll perform to their satisfaction.”

Christa couldn’t quite believe her ears. It was unthinkable that every faculty member in the department would refuse to work with her. No one had given her even the slightest indication of that kind of antipathy.

(At least, to her face.)

“What does that mean?”

Lucia sighed. “It means that, unfortunately, we will be granting you a terminal MA as of May and that you will need to apply elsewhere to pursue your studies.”

“You can’t do that!”

Lucia closed Christa’s file with a snap of her wrist. “There are regulations about a student’s satisfactory performance in the M.Phil program. According to the faculty, you are not performing satisfactory work.”

“But, but, this is outrageous!” Christa sputtered. “I’ve completed all my assignments. I’ve been getting decent grades. No one has offered me any critical feedback. You can’t simply push me out of the program on a whim!”

“We don’t have whims here at Columbia, Miss Peterson. We have standards. While it’s true you’ve been passing your seminars, you still have to take the oral exam. As I mentioned, no one is willing to serve on your testing committee. That means you won’t be able to complete the program.”

Christa gazed around the room helplessly, trying to figure a way out of her predicament.

“Let me talk to them. I’ll go see the professors on my own and plead my case.”

Lucia shook her head. “I can’t let you do that. At this point, they’ve added a letter to your permanent file. If you go to them after the fact, they’ll view it as harassment.”

Christa scowled at the implication.

“That’s ridiculous. I’m not going to harass them.”

Lucia gave her a long look. “Be that as it may, I can’t let you speak to them.”

Christa felt the control she thought she’d regained slip through her fingers.

(It didn’t occur to her that this must have been how Professor Emerson and Julianne felt when they’d been brought before the disciplinary committee in Toronto.)

“It’s too late for me to apply to other programs. This will ruin me.” Her chin began to wobble.

“Not necessarily. Many programs receive applications until March. My assistant can help you identify those programs. Perhaps you should consider returning to Canada.”

“But I want to stay here. Professor Martin said—”

“Professor Martin is not the chair here; I am.” Lucia nodded at the door. “I realize this is a disappointment, but perhaps at another university, you will be successful.”

“There must be something I can do. Please.” Christa sat forward in her chair, begging.

“You can appeal to the dean, if you wish, but university regulations prevent her from demanding that faculty serve on specific examination committees. I’m afraid she can’t help you.” Once again Lucia nodded at the door. “My assistant will help you research other programs. I wish you good luck.”

Christa stared across the desk, in complete and utter shock. But as she exited the office, she remembered something, something Pacciani had said to her back in Oxford.

Be careful, Cristina. You don’t want Professor Picton as an enemy. . . . Departments around the world are filled with her admirers. Your chair at Columbia was her student.

It angered her sorely that in the end, Pacciani had been correct. But as quickly as the realization came to her, so did a possible solution. She would simply have to pursue her education outside the patronage system of Professor Picton. And that meant that she would need to research every single professor in every department that offered a doctoral program in Dante studies.

She had days of work ahead of her, simply to find a possibility of enrolling in a doctoral program.

(It must be said parenthetically that karma had been served.)

Chapter Seventy-two

Fear and anxiety are not so easily managed, especially by people who have struggled for years with both. When the Emersons returned to Cambridge, they each made appointments to see their respective therapists, immediately.

Dr. Walters suggested several different strategies for Julia to cope with the anxiety over her pregnancy, but she stressed the fact that Julia needed to ask for help and that she also needed to accept it and not try to do everything on her own.

Dr. Townsend painstakingly addressed Gabriel’s worries over the health and welfare of his wife and unborn child. But he was pleased with the progress Gabriel had made since the summer.

The Emersons also visited Dr. Rubio, who confirmed the pregnancy, estimating the due date would be around September sixth. A series of appointments were scheduled, including ultrasounds to monitor the progress of the baby and any issues relating to the uterine fibroids. Julia was urged to modify her diet and to take supplements, in order to ensure her health and the health of the baby.

She was also instructed to avoid o**l s*x with her husband.

“Come again?” The Professor’s voice boomed in the small room.

“No male-on-female o**l s*x during pregnancy,” Dr. Rubio repeated briskly.

“That’s ridiculous.”

Dr. Rubio gazed at him coolly.

“And where did you become board certified in obstetrics, Mr. Emerson?”

“It’s Professor Emerson, and I went to Harvard. Where did you go, an anti–oral sex college?”

“Darling.” Julia placed a restraining hand on his arm. “Dr. Rubio is trying to help us and the baby. We want to be healthy.”