Gabriel's Rapture (Gabriel's Inferno 2)

“Dr. Walters brought up all this stuff about my mother. I didn’t want to talk about it, but she said that she wasn’t doing her job if she let me suppress everything that happened in St. Louis. I took as much as I could take and then I left.”

Gabriel grimaced. Dr. Townsend had been making similar comments about his own mother, but he seemed to be closer to making peace with his past since his trip to Italy. Certainly, his continued presence at Narcotics Anonymous meetings seemed to be helping.

“I’m sorry,” he offered, kissing the top of her head. “But didn’t Nicole address your relationship with your mother?”

“Briefly. Mostly we discussed you.”

Gabriel winced. He would always feel guilty for the pain he had caused her, but the fact that he had bumped Sharon off Nicole’s priority list for helping Julia made him cringe.

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

Julia laughed mirthlessly as she wiped her tears away. “Find me another therapist.”

“I wouldn’t be helping you if I did. Any therapist worth her salt would insist that you address what happened with your mother. And her boyfriends.”

Julia began to protest, but Gabriel interrupted her. “I understand what you’re going through. Even though our mothers were abusive in different ways, I understand.”

She wiped her nose with a tissue.

“I’m here to listen, whenever you want to talk about it. But in order to be healthy, you have to deal with your past. I’ll do everything I can to help, but this is something only you can do—for yourself and for us.” He gave her a sympathetic look. “You realize that, don’t you? That the healing process not only helps you, it helps us?”

She nodded begrudgingly. “I thought all the angst was behind us. I thought that after everything we’d been through, we’d have our happy ever after.”

Gabriel tried to repress a snicker. And failed.

“What? You don’t believe in happy ever after?”

He smirked at her and tapped her nose with his finger. “No, I don’t believe in angst.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m not an Existentialist; I’m a Dantean.”

She wrinkled her nose. “Very funny, Professor. With a name like Emerson, I would have thought you to be a Transcendentalist.”

“Hardly.” He kissed her wrinkles affectionately. “I exist in order to please you.

“We will be happy, Julianne, but don’t you see that in order to get to the happiness, you have to address the pain of the past?”

She squirmed but didn’t respond.

“I was thinking about visiting Maia’s grave.” He cleared his throat. “I’d like to take you with me.” His voice was hesitant and barely above a whisper. “I’d like you to see it. That is, if you wouldn’t find it morbid.”

“I’d be honored. Of course I’ll go with you.”

“Thank you.” He pressed his lips to her forehead.

“Gabriel?”

“Yes?”

“I didn’t tell you everything that happened with Sharon. Or with Simon.”

Gabriel rubbed at his eyes. “I didn’t tell you everything about my past, either.”

“Does it bother you? That we haven’t told one another everything?”

“No. I’m willing to listen to anything you have to say. But truthfully, there are some things I don’t want to discuss about my life. So I understand your reticence to lay bare your history.” He locked eyes with her. “The important thing is that you address those events with someone. I’m sure that talking things over with Dr. Walters is good enough.”

He kissed her once again and held her close, meditating on how far they’d come in their individual journeys and how far they still needed to go.

Chapter 51

In October, Gabriel persuaded Julia to travel to his house in Selinsgrove for the weekend in order to congregate with their relatives. Rachel and Aaron insisted on doing all the cooking during the weekend, while Tammy’s little boy, Quinn, entertained everyone, including Tom, with his smiles.

“How is married life treating you?” Gabriel asked Aaron as he assembled the ingredients for a salad.

“Really well. You should try it sometime.” Aaron winked at Julia as he took a long pull from his Corona.

“That’s an idea.” Gabriel smiled smugly and went back to his salad.

“Cut the crap, Gabriel. When are you going to put a ring on that woman’s finger?” Rachel’s voice floated across the kitchen from the oven.

“She has one.”

Rachel left her chicken Kiev unattended and raced across the kitchen to examine Julia’s left hand.

“That doesn’t count.” She pointed to Julia’s thumb, which was encased by Gabriel’s platinum band.

Julia and Rachel exchanged a look and shook their heads.

Gabriel regarded the way that Julia’s countenance fell and quickly abandoned his salad (which was laden pretentiously with both fruit and nuts), and hastily embraced her.

“Trust me,” he whispered, so quietly that no one else could hear.

She murmured her acquiescence, and he squeezed her tightly before kissing her.

“Get a room.” Aaron snickered.

“Oh, we have one.” Gabriel glanced at him sideways.

“We have two, actually.” Julia sighed in resignation.

When they sat down for dinner, Richard asked everyone to hold hands while he said the blessing. He thanked God for his family, for Tammy, Quinn, and Julia, for his new son-in-law, and for the friendship of the Mitchells. He thanked God for his wife and her memory and he pointed out that the seeds she had planted with her children, her husband, and her friends had come to fruition. And when he said “Amen,” everyone wiped at their eyes and smiled, more thankful than they could say that the family was together and strong once again.

Chapter 52

After dinner, Tammy and Scott cleaned up while Rachel and Aaron practiced their parenting skills with Quinn. On the back porch, Richard and Tom smoked cigars and drank Scotch, while watching old Mr. Bancroft carry things from the garage into the woods. Richard gave Tom a knowing look, and the two men clinked glasses.

Inside the house, Gabriel took Julia’s hand and led her upstairs. “Wear something warm,” he said as they walked into her room. “I want to take you for a walk.”

“It isn’t that cold out,” she remarked, as she pulled on one of Gabriel’s old cashmere cardigans.

He’d divested his wardrobe of cardigans after Julia informed him that they made him look like a grandfather.

(Or a PBS host.)

Upon hearing that, Gabriel was only too glad to donate his cardigans to the Salvation Army, with the exception of one or two that Julia rescued.

“I don’t want you to catch cold,” he protested, tugging playfully on her sweater.

“I have you to warm me,” she countered, winking at him.

After winding her Magdalen College scarf around her neck, Gabriel escorted her downstairs, through the kitchen and outside.

“Going for a walk, Emerson?” Tom’s voice surprised them.

“With your permission, Mr. Mitchell.”

Tom patted the Swiss Army knife in his coat pocket. “If you make her cry, I’ll gut you like a fish.”

“I’ll take good care of her, I promise. And if I make her cry, I’ll dry her tears.”

Tom snorted and muttered something under his breath.

Julia gazed between Gabriel and Tom quizzically. “What’s going on?”

“Gabriel is taking you for a walk, with my blessing.” Her father spoke with only the slightest of scowls.

“And mine,” interjected Richard, his gray eyes alive with amusement.

“You two need to lay off the Scotch.” Julia shook her head at the men as Gabriel pulled her into the dense, thick trees.

“What was that all about?” she asked as they trudged hand in hand toward the remains of the old orchard.

“You’ll see.” Gabriel kissed the top of her head before quickening their pace. He grinned as he inhaled her scent. “You smell like vanilla.”

“I got sick of lavender.”

“So did I.”

Within minutes they were at the edge of the orchard. Despite the fact that the trees were very thick, Julia saw light streaming through the branches.

“What’s going on?”

“Come and find out.” He led her through the trees.

There were small white lights decorating some of the branches of the trees overhead and lanterns scattered on the ground containing flameless flickering candles. Amidst the gentle light, which cast a warm glow over the stark, bare trees and the old grass, there stood a white tent. Inside, a bench was spread with a familiar looking blanket and decorated with cushions.

“Oh, Gabriel,” she whispered.

He walked with her to the tent, encouraging her to sit down.

“You didn’t have to go to so much trouble. I would have been happy with this old blanket and the ground. That’s what we used before.”

“I like spoiling you.” His eyes caught hers, and she lost her breath as a simmering intensity shone from their blue depths. “Would you like a drink?”