Very early Christmas morning, Gabriel sat in his boxer shorts and glasses, debating whether or not to wake Julianne. He could have returned to the light of the living room of their suite, where he’d played Santa Claus only an hour before. But he preferred to be near her, even in the dark.
Richard’s conversation with him from the day before plagued his mind. His adoptive father had asked about Paulina, and he’d said about as much on the topic as he dared, emphasizing that Paulina was his past and Julia his future. Richard, who was a compassionate man, encouraged his son to make professional counseling a necessary condition for Paulina’s continued access to her trust fund, pointing out that she clearly needed help.
Once Gabriel agreed, Richard smoothly changed the subject to Julia, asking if he was in love with her. Gabriel replied unequivocally in the affirmative, to which Richard responded by bring up the R-word, responsibility.
“I am taking responsibility for her.”
“She’s still a student. What if she gets pregnant?”
Gabriel’s expression hardened. “That won’t happen.”
Richard smiled. “I thought that once. Then we had Scott.”
“I’ve already demonstrated that I more than take care of my responsibilities.” Gabriel’s voice was glacial.
His adoptive father sat back in his chair, tenting his fingers reflectively.
“Julia is like Grace in several ways — not least of which is her willingness to sacrifice herself for those she loves.”
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“I won’t allow her to sacrifice her dreams for me, you can be assured of that.”
Richard’s eyes flickered over to the picture of his wife that he always kept on his desk, a laughing, smiling woman with kind eyes.
“How did Julia react to Paulina’s visit?”
“I haven’t discussed it with her.”
“If you abandon Julia, you will have a serious problem with your siblings, as well as with me.”
Gabriel’s eyebrows knit together like thunderous clouds. “I would never abandon her. And I won’t live without her.”
“Then why don’t you tell her that?”
“Because we’ve only been together for two weeks.”
Richard raised his eyebrows in surprise, but elected not to interrogate his son over the semantic ambiguity of the phrase “being together.”
“You know my views on this. You should marry her. At the moment, you appear to be with her under false pretenses; your actions indicate that she is only a partner in a sexual affair, when your intentions are serious.”
Gabriel bristled at the characterization. “Julianne is not my mistress.”
“You won’t make a commitment to her.”
“I am committed to her. There’s no one else.”
“But Paulina appears, looking for you and making a spectacle in front of Julia and your family.”
“I can’t help that,” Gabriel snapped.
“Can’t you?” Richard pursed his lips together. “It’s difficult for me to believe that a woman as intelligent as Paulina would simply arrive without any hope that her overtures would be accepted.”
Gabriel scowled, but didn’t bother to argue.
“Why won’t you make some promises to Julia? I’m sure she’s anxious about what the future might hold. Marriage is a sacrament that exists partially to protect women from sexual exploitation. If you take that protection away from her, then she is little more than your mistress, no matter what you choose to call her. And she has seen what happened — what is happening — to Paulina.”
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“That isn’t going to happen to Julianne.”
“How does she know that?” Richard tapped his fingers on the top of his desk. “Marriage is more than a piece of paper. It’s a mystery. In fact, there’s a Midrash that suggests that marriage is made in heaven between soul mates. Don’t you want to be with Julia forever?”
“What I want is immaterial. I won’t rush her into making a life-changing decision in the middle of the academic year,” Gabriel muttered, rubbing at his eyes. “It’s too soon.”
“Pray that you don’t wait until it’s too late,” Richard countered, gazing sadly at Grace’s photograph.
With these words, then, ringing in his ears, Gabriel sat watching his soul mate sleep on Christmas morning.
As if she could hear his thoughts, she stirred, a nameless anxiety wafting over her. A moment later she rolled toward him, her fingers making contact with the silk at his hip.
In the darkness of the room, Gabriel looked like a gargoyle — a gray, motionless figure that stared back at her from behind his glasses in stony silence. It took a moment for Julia to recognize him.
“What are you doing?”
“Nothing. Go back to sleep.”
Her face creased in puzzlement. “But you’re sitting half-naked in the dark.”
He gave her a tentative smile. “I’m waiting for you to wake up.”
“Why?”
“So we can open presents. But it’s early. Go back to sleep.”
She slid closer to him, searching for and finding his hand. She kissed the back of it and pulled it toward her heart.
He smiled and pressed his palm flat against her chest so he could feel her heart beat. His face grew serious.
“Forgive me for last night.” He cleared his throat roughly. “I don’t want you to think that sex is all I want. It isn’t.”
Her smile faded. “I know that.”
He moved his hand to stroke her eyebrows with his fingers. “I desire you, obviously. It’s difficult for me not to touch you, not to want to be with you that way.”
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His hand floated across her cheek, hesitantly. “But I love you, and I want you to be with me because you want to be. Not because you feel obligated.”
She leaned into his hand. “I don’t feel obligated. There were so many times when you could have pressured me, like the night we were in your old room and I — I took my top off. But you were patient. And when it was our first time, you were wonderful. I’ve been lucky to have you as my lover.”
She gave him a sleepy smile. “Why don’t you come over here? I think we could both use some rest.”
Gabriel slid under the covers and cuddled close to his beloved. When her regular breathing indicated that she’d fallen asleep, he whispered a few promises to her in Italian.
When Julia awoke she was treated to breakfast in bed. Then she was nagged impatiently until she agreed to accompany Gabriel to the sitting room. He was so excited he was practically bouncing.
(In a very dignified and professorial way, of course, despite his lack of shirt.)
A small, Charlie Brown Christmas tree had been conveniently “borrowed” from the bed and breakfast’s parlor and was placed in the center of the room. Several brightly colored parcels rested beneath it. Two large, red stockings embroidered with the names “Julianne” and “Gabriel” were each sitting in a corner of the loveseat.
“Merry Christmas.” He kissed her forehead, feeling very proud of himself.
“I’ve never had a stocking.”
He led her to the loveseat and placed the stocking in her lap. It was filled with candy and panties that had Yuletide images on them. And in the toe was a flash drive that contained video of a certain tango against the wall at the Royal Ontario Museum.
“Why haven’t you had a stocking before?”
“Sharon didn’t always remember Christmas and my dad didn’t think of it.” She shrugged.
He shook his head. He hadn’t had stockings either, before he came to live with the Clarks.
Julia pointed to a couple of presents that were wrapped in red and green plaid and sitting on the coffee table. “Why don’t you open your gifts first?”
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Gabriel beamed and sat on the floor by the tree, cross-legged. He picked up a small box and tore at the paper with abandon.
Julia laughed at the sight of him, this very proper professor sitting in his spectacles and underwear, attacking his presents like a four-year-old.
Gabriel opened the box and was very surprised at what he saw inside. Nestled in cream-colored silk was a pair of silver cufflinks. But these were no ordinary cufflinks. These cufflinks bore the shield of the city of Florence. He gazed at them in wonder.
“Do you like them?”
“I love them, Julianne. I’m just surprised. How did you…?”
“While you were at one of your meetings, I walked over to the Ponte Vecchio and bought them. I thought they would look good with your fancy shirts.” She looked at the floor. “I’m afraid I bought them using some of my scholarship money. So really, you bought them for yourself.”
Gabriel rose to his knees and shuffled over to her, kissing her in gratitude. “That money is yours. You earned it. And the cufflinks are perfect. Thank you.”
She smiled at the sight of him kneeling in front of her. “There’s another gift for you.”
He grinned as he found a second small, flat present. Underneath the wrapping paper he found a framed eight-by-ten inch reproduction of Marc Chagall’s painting Lovers in the Moonlight.
Inside the enclosed card Julia had written a few sweet nothings, declaring her love and her gratitude at finding him again. She also added another, more important, gift.
I’d like to pose for your photographs.
All my love,
Your Julia.
XOXO
Gabriel was speechless. His eyes met hers with a questioning look.
“I think it’s time you had some photographs of us to hang on the walls of your bedroom. And I would like to do this for you. If that’s all right.”
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He moved to join her on the love seat and kissed her deeply. “Thank you. The painting is lovely, but what is far more lovely is you.” He grinned. “Your fondness for Chagall will be our inspiration. But I think we’ll have to practice our poses first.”
He moved his eyebrows suggestively, before leaning forward to tug her lower lip into his mouth.
“You are the greatest gift,” he murmured. He felt her lips move into a smile beneath his mouth, and he pulled back to retrieve one of her gifts from under the tree.
She rewarded him with shining, eager eyes. When she opened the small box, she found a compact disc that he’d recorded for her, entitled Loving Julianne.
“It’s the playlist that we listened to in Florence,” he explained.
“Thank you. I was going to ask you for a copy of those songs. They’ll bring back happy memories.”
Underneath the jewel case she found a series of gift certificates for various spa treatments at the Windsor Arms Hotel in Toronto, some of which had various exotic sounding names such as Vichy shower and seaweed and salt body wrap.
She thanked him, reading the titles aloud until she came to the last certificate.
Arrangements have been made for you to see a plastic surgeon in Toronto as soon as we return. Based upon the information I provided, he’s confident that your scar can be removed completely. You don’t need to worry about it anymore,
Gabriel.
He released the page from her tense fingers, smiling apologetically. “I probably shouldn’t have included that in the box. Sorry.”
Julia caught his hand. “Thank you. I thought I would have to wait. But this is the best gift you could have given me.”
Gabriel exhaled deeply and leaned over to kiss the top of her head. “You are worth it,” he declared, his eyes blazing.
She smiled a little and peered around him, gazing at a large box that was still underneath the Christmas tree.
“There’s one more present. Is it for me?”
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He nodded.
“Well, can I open it?”
“I’d rather you waited.”
She frowned. “Why? Do you want me to take it to Richard’s house? To open it in front of your family?”
“God, no!”
He ran his fingers through his hair and gave her a half-smile. “Sorry. It’s just kind of — ah — personal. Would you wait and open it tonight? Please?”
She looked at the gift curiously. “Judging by the size of the box, it isn’t a kitten.”
“No, it isn’t. Although if you wanted a pet, I’d buy one.” He looked suspiciously at the open box that was sitting by the door.
“What was in your gift from Paul?”
Julia shrugged, pretending that she hadn’t known that question was coming. “A bottle of maple syrup, which I gave to Dad, and a couple of toys.”
“Toys? What kind of toys?”
She appeared indignant. “Children’s toys, of course.”
“Didn’t he give you a toy bunny a couple of months ago? I think he has some kind of rabbit fetish.”
Angelfucker.
“Gabriel, you have a fetish for women’s shoes. Professor Pot, meet Mr. Kettle.”
“I’ve never denied my aesthetic appreciation for women’s footwear. They’re works of art, after all,” he said primly. “Especially when a woman as lovely as you is wearing them.”
She couldn’t help smiling. “He gave me a stuffed Holstein and a pair of Dante and Beatrice figurines.”
Gabriel’s face manifested a look of intense perplexity. “Figurines?” His mouth widened into a provocative smile. “Don’t you mean action figures?”
“Figurines, action figures. Whatever.”
“Are they anatomically correct?”
“Now who’s being a child?”
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He reached over to trace the curve of her cheek. “I was just wondering what kind of action they were capable of participating in — privately, of course.”
“Dante would be rolling over in his grave.”
“We could re-enact that event by taking Paul’s action figure and burying it in the back yard. But I’d like to keep Beatrice.”
“You’re incorrigible.” Julia couldn’t help but laugh. “Thank you for my presents. And thank you for taking me to Italy, which was the best present of all.”
“You’re welcome.” He cupped her face in his hands and searched her eyes for a moment before pressing their lips together.
What started as a shy, closed mouth kiss quickly escalated until feverish, needy hands pulled and grasped at one another. Julia stood on tiptoes, pressing against his naked chest. Gabriel groaned with frustration and gently pushed himself back. He moved his glasses so he could rub his eyes.
“I’d rather continue what we were just doing, but Richard wants us to go to church.”
“Good.”
Gabriel replaced his glasses. “Wouldn’t a nice Catholic girl like you prefer to go to Mass?”
“It’s the same God. I’ve gone to church with your family before.” Julia searched his expression. “Don’t you want to go?”
“Church is not the place for me.”
“Why not?”
“I haven’t gone in years. They’ll…judge me.”
She looked up at him in earnest. “We’re all sinners. If only non-sinners went to church, the churches would be empty. And I doubt very much that the people in Richard’s church will judge you. Episcopalians are very welcoming.”
She gave him a quick peck on the cheek and disappeared into the bedroom to lay out her clothes. He followed her into the bedroom and collapsed on the bed, watching her rifle through the hangers in the closet.
“Why do you still believe in God? Aren’t you angry with him for all of the things that happened to you?”
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Julia paused what she was doing in order to regard him. He looked very unhappy.
“Bad things happen to everyone. Why should my life be any different?”
“Because you’re good.”
She looked at her hands. “The universe isn’t based on magic — there isn’t one set of circumstances for the good and one for the evil. Everyone suffers sometime. The question is what you do with your suffering, right?”
He gazed at her impassively.
She continued. “Maybe the world would be a lot worse if God didn’t exist.”
He cursed softly, but didn’t argue.
She sat next to him on the bed. “Did you ever read The Brothers Karamazov?”
“It’s one of my favorites.”
“Then you know the conversation between Alyosha, the priest, and his brother Ivan.”
Gabriel snickered, but not unkindly. “I suppose I’m the rebellious free thinker, and you’re the religious boy?”
Julia ignored him. “Ivan gives Alyosha a list of reasons why either God doesn’t exist or if he exists, that he’s a monster. It’s a very powerful discussion, and I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about it.
“But remember how Ivan ends his discussion. He says he rejects God’s creation, this world, and yet, there’s one aspect of the world that he finds surprisingly beautiful — the sticky little leaves he sees on the trees in the spring. He loves them even though he hates the world around them.
“The sticky little leaves aren’t faith or salvation. They’re the remnant of hope. They stave off his despair, demonstrating that despite the evil he has seen, there is at least one good and beautiful thing left.”
She moved so she could see Gabriel’s expression more clearly, and very tenderly, she placed a hand on either side of his face. “Gabriel, what are your sticky little leaves?”
Her question took him entirely by surprise. So much so he simply sat there, staring at the pretty brunette in front of him. It was in moments like this that he remembered why he’d initially thought
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she was an angel. She had a compassion about her that was rare in human beings. At least, in his experience.
“I don’t know. I’ve never thought about it before.”
“Mine was Grace. And you.” She smiled at him shyly. “And even before that, there were the Salvation Army workers back in St. Louis who were kind to me when my mother wasn’t. They gave me a reason to believe.”
“But what about the suffering of the innocent? Of children?” Gabriel’s voice was barely above a whisper. “What about the babies?”
“I don’t know why babies die. I wish they didn’t.” Julia wore a grave expression.
“But what’s wrong with the rest of us, Gabriel? Why do we allow people to abuse their children? Why don’t we defend the sick and the weak? Why do we let soldiers round up our neighbors and make them wear a star on their clothing and cram them into boxcars? It isn’t God who’s evil — it’s us.
“Everyone wants to know where evil comes from and why the world is riddled with it. Why doesn’t anyone ask where goodness comes from? Human beings have a tremendous capacity for cruelty. Why is there any goodness at all? Why are people like Grace and Richard so kind? Because there’s a God, and he hasn’t allowed the earth to be entirely corrupted. There are sticky little leaves, if you look for them. And when you recognize them, you can feel his presence.”
Gabriel closed his eyes, drinking in her words with her touch, knowing in his heart that she had spoken a very deep, very profound truth.
Try as he might, he could never stop believing; even in his darkest days the light had not gone out. He’d had the guidance of Grace, and providentially, when she died, he met his Beatrice again, and she’d shown him the rest of the way.
He kissed her chastely, and when she left him to shower, he marveled at her quiet brilliance. She was far more intelligent than he, since her intellect was marked with a true creative originality that he only dreamed of having. Despite everything that had happened to her, she had not lost faith or hope or charity.
She is not my equal; she is my better.
She is my sticky little leaf.
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P
An hour later Julia and Gabriel drove to All Saints Episcopal Church. Gabriel wore a black suit and white shirt, proudly displaying Julia’s cufflinks, while she wore a plum-colored dress that skimmed the bottom of her knees, and tall black boots that he’d purchased for her in Florence.
A sea of awkwardness. That’s how Gabriel would have described the atmosphere as he sat with Julianne at the end of the family pew.
He was grateful for the liturgy, the order, and the way in which Scripture and music were used in the service. He found himself contemplating his life and the steps that led him to the beautiful woman who held his hand throughout the service.
Christmas was a celebration of birth — one birth in particular. All around him he saw babies and children: the manger scene at the front of the church, the banners and stained glass windows, and the glowing skin of the pregnant woman who was seated across the aisle.
In one brief moment, Gabriel realized that he regretted his sterilization, not just for himself and the fact that he was no longer able to father a child, but also for Julianne. He imagined lying in bed with a very pregnant Julia and placing his hand on her stomach in order to feel their child kick. He thought about holding their infant son in his arms, shocked by the array of dark hair on his head.
His imaginings startled him. They marked a shift in character and priority, away from the guilt and selfishness that had marked his life up until the reappearance of his Beatrice. A shift toward the permanence of a commitment to a woman with whom he wanted to create a family, with whom he wanted to create a child. His love for Julianne had changed him in multiple ways. He hadn’t been aware of how dramatic the changes were until he gazed at the pregnant stranger with a kind of wistful envy.
Those were the thoughts that occupied his mind as he held Julianne’s hand until it was time to participate in the Eucharist. He was the only one in the family pew who didn’t stand and file to the center aisle in order to walk to the communion rail.
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There was something comforting about church, he thought. Although he found the overall experience, especially the homily, convicting. He had wasted a good deal of his life — years that he could never get back.
He hadn’t told Grace the things he’d wanted to tell her before she died. He hadn’t treated Paulina or Julianne with the dignity that they deserved. He hadn’t treated any of the women with whom he’d been involved with respect.
In thinking of Paulina, Gabriel tore his eyes away from the dark haired woman in the pretty plum dress and hung his head, praying almost unconsciously for forgiveness and also for guidance. He was walking a tightrope, he knew, between taking responsibility for his past indiscretions and eliminating Paulina’s dependence on him. He prayed that she would be able to find someone who would love her and help her put the past behind her.
Gabriel was so deep in prayer that he didn’t notice his family squeeze past him to retake their seats, or Julia’s warm hand snake through the crook at his elbow, pressing herself soothingly to his side. And he didn’t notice the moment in the service, just before the benediction, when his father broke down into silent, shoulder-shaking tears, and Rachel placed her arm around him, leaning her blond head to his shoulder.
The Kingdom of Heaven is like a family, thought Julia, as she watched Rachel and Scott hug their father. Where love and forgiveness replace tears and suffering.
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