Gabriel's Redemption (Gabriel's Inferno Trilogy) (31 page)

“Really?”

Julia waved a cob of corn in the direction of the stairs. “Go.”

Like a shot, Rachel was off her stool and flying through the door.

Gabriel watched her departing form and shook his head. “Tell me we aren’t going to be like that.”

“We aren’t going to be like that.” Julia pressed a kiss to his temple.

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

“You convinced me to pursue a reversal, no matter what. And you’ve almost convinced me that my family history doesn’t matter.”

“It doesn’t, sweetheart. Believe me.”

He took the corn out of her hand and set it aside before clasping her hands in his.

“We can’t get our hopes up. It’s been almost ten years since my vasectomy.”

“I’d be happy adopting. But for your own sake, I want us to try. Eventually. And with less drama than what we’re seeing with Rachel and Aaron.”

Gabriel laughed and pulled her into his arms.

Julia snuggled against him, her mouth opening wide into a sustained yawn.

Gabriel eyed her with concern. “Why don’t you go and take a nap?”

“There’s too much to do.”

“Nonsense. Richard is reading a book on the back porch and Aaron is snoring in front of the television. I think we’ll be having a late dinner.”

“I gave our room to Rachel.”

“Then use the couch in the study.” He pressed his lips to her forehead. “They worked you pretty hard at the rehearsal and the wedding. You could use a nap.” He winked. “Since you didn’t have one this afternoon.”

Julia kissed him and exited the kitchen.

Left to his own devices, Gabriel retrieved a small leather book from his briefcase and went outside to join Richard on the porch.

“It’s a beautiful day,” Richard remarked, closing his crime novel.

“Yes.” Gabriel sat down in the Adirondack chair next to his adoptive father’s.

“What are you reading?”

Gabriel showed him the book, on which the word
Journal
was embossed on the front in gold lettering. “It’s my mother’s diary.”

The two men exchanged a look.

“I found something in it from Grace.” Gabriel unfolded two pages that had been tucked inside the journal.

Richard gazed on the papers with interest.

“What are they?”

“Names, addresses, and telephone numbers. One is for my father. The other is for Jean Emerson of Staten Island. She’s my grandmother.”

“Is this the first time you’ve seen those pages?” Richard made eye contact with his son.

“Yes. Grace gave me my mother’s things when I was a teenager. But I never looked at them.”

Richard nodded, a look of recollection on his face.

Gabriel peered at Grace’s handwriting. “I’m wondering why she did this.”

“I’m positive we spoke to you about this when you were a teenager. Don’t you remember?”

Gabriel’s attention momentarily fixated on the woods behind the house.

“Only bits and pieces.”

“When your mother died, social services located your grandmother and asked her to take you. She refused. Grace telephoned her, trying to figure out what the problem was. After she spoke to your grandmother, she placed her name and address with your mother’s things, thinking that you might want to contact her one day.”

“I don’t remember Grace telling me that she spoke with my grandmother, just that social services located my relatives and they didn’t want anything to do with me.”

Richard frowned.

“You were only a boy. There was no point in burdening you with everything that happened. I thought that we disclosed the details when you were older.”

Gabriel shook his head.

Richard’s mouth tightened. “I apologize. We should have told you.”

“You don’t have anything to apologize for. You and Grace took me in when my own flesh and blood disowned me.”

“You are our son.” Richard’s voice grew husky. “You have always been our son.”

Gabriel’s hands gripped the journal more tightly.

“Will it—offend you if I try to find out more about my biological parents?”

“Of course not. It’s your heritage and you have a right to know about it.”

“You’re my dad,” Gabriel observed quietly.

“Always,” said Richard. “And no matter what.”

“I put you and Grace at risk. You mortgaged your home to rescue me.”

“A parent’s love isn’t conditional. No matter what you did, you were always our son. I simply prayed that one day you’d come back to us. And you did.”

Gabriel’s knee began to bounce in agitation.

Richard’s gray eyes grew very intense as he watched him.

“We didn’t give birth to you, but you are our son. You belonged with us.”

“What did Grace say to my grandmother?”

Richard sat back in his chair.

“I think she explained who she was and what happened to your mother. I know she talked about you. She hoped she could reason with your family.”

“And could she?”

“No.” Richard appeared grim. “Your grandmother was too blinded by her own morality and her anger with her daughter. She disowned your mother when she became pregnant, and I doubt they saw one another after that.”

“What about my father? Did Grace call him too?”

Richard shifted his weight. “I know we spoke to you about this because it came up in connection with your birth certificate. Your father persuaded your mother not to list him, which is why it only names your mother.”

“So how did Grace find him?”

“Through your grandmother. She wasn’t in a hurry to help her grandson, but she was eager enough to name your father. She had his address and telephone number, which is probably what you have there.” Richard gestured toward the diary. “Grace knew better than to call him at home. She called him at the office. He refused to speak with her.”

“I can recall Grace saying that my father knew where I was but that he wasn’t coming to get me.”

“She hoped your relatives would welcome you, which is why she called them.”

“Grace thought the best of everyone.”

“She did. But she was no fool. After speaking with your grandmother and trying in vain to talk to your father, she let it go. You’ve been with us ever since.” He looked at Gabriel sadly. “Grace expected that she would be here when you found those pages. I know she would have wanted to talk to you about them.”

“I should have looked at them earlier.”

He thought for a moment about the vision he had of Grace and how she’d forgiven him. He still mourned her.

“Julianne is very fond of you.” Gabriel changed the subject, if only to free himself of his painful musings.

“As I am of her. I have her and you to thank for allowing me to come home.”

“This will always be your home.” Gabriel shifted in his chair. “She thinks that if God is like a father, he must be like you.”

Richard chuckled. “A high compliment, but an unwarranted one. I’m imperfect like everyone else.”

“Would that I could have one quarter of your imperfection,” Gabriel muttered, lowering his head.

“Grace and I always thought of you as a gift. But since she died, I’ve realized something even more profound.”

Gabriel lifted his head, turning to look at his father.

“I know that you feel some sort of gratitude to us for adopting you—as if we did you a favor. But you’re looking at things the wrong way.”

Richard’s eyes met Gabriel’s.

“God gave you to us because he knew we needed you.”

The two men exchanged a long look before gazing out at the orchard and losing themselves in silence. And if anyone had commented on the fact that Gabriel’s eyes were wet, he would have said it was because of his allergies.

C
hapter Forty-four

September 9, 2011

Durham, North Carolina

A
pril Hudson exited her apartment building with the intention of driving to campus, but she was stopped abruptly by a man carrying roses.

“Hi,” he said, smiling.

“Simon!” She ran to him, wrapping her arms around his neck and squealing. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to see you. And to give you these.” He lifted the dozen long-stemmed red roses he held in his left hand.

“They’re beautiful. Thank you.” She jumped up and down and hugged him.

He laughed at her exuberance and returned her embrace, burying his nose in her long, blond hair.

“I was worried I wouldn’t see you again. Do you want to come in?” she murmured against his neck.

He nodded, and she led him to the elevator.

“These are really beautiful.” She held the bouquet close to her face, inhaling the scent. “And you chose red this time. The first time we went out, you bought white.”

“White symbolizes virginity.” He reached out to touch her long, straight hair. “That doesn’t apply anymore.”

She cringed as if he’d struck her and quickly handed him back the flowers.

He was going to ask what the problem was when the elevator door opened. She stepped around him and walked quickly to her apartment, her flip-flops snapping down the hall.

“April? Wait up.” He jogged after her, still clutching the bouquet.

She pulled her keys out of her backpack and opened the door to her apartment. She moved behind the door as if she were going to close it in his face.

“Wait a second.” He placed his palm against the door, holding it open.

“Look, you didn’t have to fly all the way down here and give me flowers just to gloat. I know I’m not a virgin anymore.”

“What are you talking about? I’m not here to gloat.”

“Did you tell all your friends? I’m sure they had a big laugh over it. Take the nice Christian girl out a couple of times and she gives it up like it’s prom night.”

“That isn’t what happened.” Simon glared.

“After we spent the weekend together, you didn’t contact me. No phone calls, no texts. Now it’s the weekend and you show up on my doorstep. Did you fly all the way down here for a booty call?”

“Of course not. If you’d let me explain, I—”

“I’m not a booty call, Simon. Take your red roses and go back to Washington. I can’t keep you from bragging about what happened, but it would be nice if you let me tell my parents first. I don’t want my father reading in the newspaper about how I got drunk and slept with you on our second date.”

She started to close the door, but he flexed his arm, stopping her.

“Just hold on. Can I come in?”

“No.”

He leaned closer, dropping his voice.

“I came here because I wanted to see you. And I chose red roses because I thought you’d like them.”

April clutched the edge of the door tightly but didn’t respond.

“Let me take you to dinner and we’ll talk. If you don’t like what I have to say, I’ll get back on a plane and you’ll never see me again.”

Her green eyes narrowed suspiciously. “What’s your angle?”

“I like you.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s it. Isn’t that reason enough?”

“What about your father and the presidential campaign?”

Simon’s eyes widened. It took a moment for him to recover himself.

“He asked me to take you out. I did. That’s where the politics ended.”

“I don’t believe you.” Her voice was soft and she looked like she was about to cry.

“Have a little more confidence in yourself, April. You’re pretty, you’re sweet. I wouldn’t have invited you to the Hamptons and taken you out for mojitos simply for politics.”

Her expression telegraphed her disbelief.

“I mean it. Now put those things in water and let me take you to dinner.” He handed her the roses and flashed a smile.

She hesitated, looking at the flowers.

“Okay.” She opened the door wider so that he could come in. “But no mojitos.”

“Scout’s honor.” He saluted her before closing the door behind them.

Chapter Forty-five

A
t the end of the Labor Day weekend, Julia and Gabriel returned to Cambridge in order to begin the academic year. Gabriel was teaching a graduate seminar and an undergraduate class at Boston University, while Julia attended Harvard.

In the second week of September, Gabriel visited a well-respected urologist. He didn’t want Julia to accompany him, since the appointment conflicted with one of her classes. So he went alone.

When he arrived home for dinner, she pounced.

“Well?”

“Good evening to you, too.” He brushed his lips against hers and pulled back, staring at her.

“I’m still getting used to these.” He touched the frames of her tortoiseshell glasses.

She adjusted them self-consciously before taking them off. “I only need them for reading. At least, that’s what the optometrist said.”

“You look like a sexy librarian. In fact, I think we should take them into the study and introduce them to the wonders of desk sex.”

Julia laughed. “You aren’t going to distract me with desk sex, Professor Emerson. I want to hear about your appointment.”

Gabriel’s smile faded.

“What if I promise you consecutive orgasms?” he whispered, grasping her wrist and bringing it to his mouth. He kissed her, nipping at the skin.

She swallowed hard. “That sounds—great. But I still want to hear about the doctor.”

He took a step closer, walking her toward the kitchen table.

“And if I promise you kitchen table sex, the likes of which you’ve never experienced before?”

He placed her on the edge of the table, spreading her legs so that he could stand in between them.

She raised her hand to his face. “I’d say you’re worrying me because you’re trying to distract me with sex. Please tell me what happened.”

Gabriel pulled away and sat down heavily on a nearby chair.

“Did you cook or did Rebecca leave something?”

“Rebecca made lasagne.” Julia hopped off the table to retrieve a can of Coke from the fridge. She poured it over ice in a glass and handed it to him. “I hope you’re hungry.”

“The doctor isn’t sure it will work.” Abruptly, Gabriel placed the glass on the table.

“Oh, sweetheart.” She sat in the chair next to him and placed a hand on his arm.

“He’s pretty confident we could do artificial insemination if the reversal is unsuccessful, but I have to be tested to see if I’m producing viable sperm. When he has the results, he’ll determine if we should schedule a reversal or not. My test is scheduled for next week.”

“And?”

“Even if he performs the reversal, the probability of success is low.” He cleared his throat. “Since the procedure was done almost ten years ago, the chance of pregnancy is thirty percent. There’s a possibility of antibodies, scar tissue, and a secondary blockage point.”

“I didn’t realize it was so complicated.”

He rubbed a hand over his eyes. “It’s far more complicated than I expected. But it’s a credit to the doctor that he was thorough in his explanation. He also forbade me to smoke.”

“Well, that’s a good thing. When will we know if the procedure is successful?”

“He says I could be fertile within a few months or it could take a year.” He hesitated. “Or never.”

Julia sat in his lap, wrapping her arms around his shoulders.

“I’m sorry, Gabriel. I wish I’d gone with you. I could have supported you.”

“You were there in spirit.” He gave her a half-smile.

“If the sperm production is fine, then we could pursue artificial insemination. If we want, he’ll gather sperm at the time of the reversal and freeze them for us.” He toyed with her hair. “The doctor suggested you visit a gynecologist, in case there are fertility issues on your side.”

Julia grimaced.

Gabriel watched her expression carefully. “Is that a problem?”

“No. I don’t like those kinds of checkups, but I can see why it would be necessary. I’m due for one.”

“Unfortunately, the doctor also said that we’ll have to abstain from sex for three weeks after my procedure. He told me that there cannot be any ejaculation.”

Julia’s eyes widened. “Three weeks?
Scheisse.
”

“Exactly. Are you still sure we should do this?”

“I’m not happy about having to be celibate for three weeks.” She shuddered. “But I was celibate a lot longer than that before.”

“Quite.” A smile played at the corners of Gabriel’s lips. “This will be new for both of us—marital celibacy. Who knew there was such a terrible thing?”

“I certainly didn’t. Except for, you know, one week a month.”

“That reminds me. We’ll have to ensure that one of the three weeks coincides with your cycle. Otherwise we might have to be celibate for four weeks.”

“You think of everything, Professor.”

Gabriel’s eyes appeared to darken. “I have needs.”

She pressed their chests together, bringing her mouth inches from his.

“As do I, Professor. I’m sure we can attend to some of those needs without involving your injured parts.”

“Injured parts?”

“I’ll take very good care of you and all your parts. You’ll need me to be your nurse.”

Gabriel slid his hands down to cup her backside.

“I like the sound of that. A nurse, a librarian, a student, a professor—is there no end to your talents, Mrs. Emerson?”

“None. In fact, I have another secret identity.”

“Oh, really?”

She brought her lips to the curve of his ear, “I’m also Lois Lane.”

“I think I’ll need to pick up my Superman suit from the dry cleaners.”

“Merry Christmas to me.”

“It will be.” He gave her a heated look, heavy with promise. “So we’ll schedule a few more appointments, but we’ve agreed to pursue this?”

“Yes.”

“And we’ve also agreed that we aren’t going to start a family until you graduate. This is all—preliminary.”

She smiled and kissed him, and then they decided to delay dinner in favor of celebratory kitchen table sex during which Gabriel pretended to be Superman, coming home after a long day of fighting crime.

(It must be said that superhero kitchen table sex was an even better domestic coupling than regular kitchen table sex.)

A few hours later, Julia and Gabriel sat on the floor in their bedroom, going through Sharon’s boxes. They found photo albums filled with baby and toddler pictures. They found toys and the bracelet Julia had worn in the hospital when she was born.

She was surprised that her mother kept the baby memorabilia. She was even more surprised to find a copy of her parents’ wedding picture, along with a series of photos from their courtship. There were even a few family pictures that predated the divorce.

One box held costume jewelry and scarves and photos of Sharon with different men. Gabriel watched as Julia disposed of those pictures with barely a glance. Given what he knew about Sharon’s behavior with her boyfriends, he understood why Julia would want all memory of them destroyed.

He ran a finger across the back of her hand, caressing the knuckles. “You have a home and family now.”

“I know.” She gave him a little smile, but it didn’t touch her eyes.

She looked in vain for her mother’s engagement and wedding rings. But they’d likely been pawned long ago. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen them.

If Julia had expected to find answers among her mother’s things, she was sorely disappointed. The materials they found didn’t explain why Sharon decided that the baby girl she initially loved to distraction became an annoying household presence. They didn’t explain how alcohol and sex became more important than flesh and blood.

“Darling?” Gabriel’s voice broke into her thoughts.

“A whole life. Three boxes. What a waste.”

Gabriel rubbed her back sympathetically.

“Why didn’t she love me?” Julia croaked.

Gabriel felt as if his heart were being torn apart. He sat behind her, pulling her back against his chest.

“I wish I had an answer. All I can say is that I understand. Believe me, Julianne, I understand.”

“It’s hard for me to believe she ever loved me.”

“She kept the photographs. It’s clear she loved you when you were born. You can see it in her face. She loved you after that, too, when you were little.”

“But she loved alcohol more.”

“It’s an addiction.”

“I’m not without compassion, Gabriel, but I can’t contemplate choosing alcohol and men over my child.”

Gabriel’s grip on her tightened. “That’s as it should be. But you’ve never struggled with addiction, Julianne. That’s something I know too much about.

“I’m sure there were times your mother wanted to stop.”

“There were times she went into recovery, yes.”

“There but for the grace of God go we,” he whispered.

When she didn’t respond, he continued in a whisper, “This is my fault. I’m the one who insisted on looking into our parents, and now see what’s happened.”

“You aren’t the one who hurt me.

“I suppose it was silly to think I’d find an explanation in one of these boxes. If my dad doesn’t have one, how could there be an explanation in a pile of junk?”

“Your baby things aren’t junk. We’ll frame the photos and put the other things on a shelf. Someday, if we have a little girl, you can show her how beautiful her mama looked when she was a baby.”

Julia pressed her face into the crook of his neck. “Thank you.”

He gave her a tight squeeze, holding her until she was ready to pack up the boxes.