Gabriel's Redemption

Chapter Forty-three

Labor Day Weekend, 2011

Selinsgrove, Pennsylvania

Your dad has been using this room as the guest room, but we were thinking of making it the nursery.” Diane opened the door to the small room that was next to the master bedroom.

Julia entered the room behind her, carrying a blue-and-white gift bag.

It was a few days before the wedding and she was helping Diane with things around the house.

“I wanted to paint the walls and have the room ready before the baby came. Now . . .” Diane moved her hand over her abdomen, back and forth.

“I don’t see why you can’t get the nursery ready.” Julia looked around the room, eyeing three familiar-looking boxes on the floor of the closet.

“He might not come home,” Diane whispered, close to tears.

Julia put an arm around her shoulders.

“The hospital and the doctors are familiar with cases like this. And there are a number of children who’ve gone through the surgeries that little Peanut will have to go through.”

“Peanut?”

“Since we don’t have a name for him, I’ve been calling him Peanut.”

Diane pressed her hand over her stomach. “I like that. Peanut.”

“We’re all hoping and praying that Peanut will be okay. Decorating the nursery could be an expression of that hope—that you believe he’s coming home.” Julia fidgeted with the bag she’d been carrying. “I bought you and the baby a present.”

“Thank you. That’s the first gift we’ve received.”

“Since he’s my little brother, I wanted to be the first. Open it.”

Diane carefully pulled back the tissue paper, revealing a rectangular wrapped object. She placed the bag on the floor and unwrapped the gift. Inside, she found a print of a cherub playing a guitar, housed in an ornate gold frame.

She held it up in order to admire it.

“I know that you’ve been hesitant about preparing for the baby.” Julia’s voice was soft. “But I thought that the angel would be an expression of hope. The painting is called Angelo Musicante and it’s housed in the Uffizi Gallery in Florence.”

“Thank you, honey.” Diane hugged her. “That’s very sweet.”

She walked over to the window and placed the frame on the wide windowsill, leaning against the glass. It looked as if it belonged there.

“Your dad was talking about using your room as the guest room, once the baby comes.”

“It isn’t really my room. I grew up in Dad’s old house.”

“You’re my daughter. You’ll always have a room in my house.” A gruff voice sounded behind them.

Diane and Julia turned to see Tom standing in the doorway.

“That’s nice, Dad, but you don’t have to save a room for me.”

“It’s your room.” His tone and expression brooked no argument.

Julia merely sighed and nodded.

She gestured to the walls, which were white. “Have you picked out colors?”

Diane smiled. “Pale blue and red. I was thinking about having a sailboat theme. Maybe painting a mural of a boat on the wall. I thought it would be soothing.”

“That sounds beautiful. I’ll look for some bedding and things with sailboats on them.”

“Thank you.”

“I’ll make sure my little brother has everything he needs. I’m looking forward to spoiling him.”

Tom’s eyes watered. But he would never admit it.

“So you’re going to decorate?” he asked his fiancée.

“I think we should do a few things. Maybe not everything. After the honeymoon we could paint the walls.” Diane looked up into his face, her eyes cautiously hopeful.

“Whatever you want.” Tom leaned over to kiss her, pressing his palm lightly over where their child was growing.

Julia moved to the door, wanting to give them some privacy. “I’ll just go downstairs and see what Gabriel and Uncle Jack are doing.”

“Sorry, sweetie.” Diane pulled away from her fiancé, but not before moving her hand gently over where his hand had rested.

“Would you like to take those with you? I think they belonged to your mother.” Diane pointed at the boxes that were sitting in the closet.

The air in the room swiftly changed as Tom and Julia followed the path of her finger.

“What?” Tom’s tone was sharp.

“They’re just sitting there. Maybe there’s something she’d like to take home with her to Massachusetts. But if you don’t want them or you don’t want them now, that’s fine. I opened them just to see what they were, but I closed them back up again. I came across them when I was emptying this room out.”

“I’d like to look at Mom’s stuff.” Julia was conscious of her father’s fists opening and closing.

“I’m not all fired up about having this conversation three days before my wedding,” Tom growled.

“Honey,” Diane reproached him.

“All right. Why don’t you ask Gabriel to come up and help me carry them down to your car?”

Julia nodded and exited the room, but not before seeing her father pull Diane into his arms.

As she descended the staircase to the front hall, she heard voices coming out of the living room.

“You tell her yet?” Julia’s Uncle Jack, Tom’s brother, was speaking.

“No.” Gabriel’s tone was clipped.

“You going to?” Jack’s gruff voice grew louder.

“Since everything has been quiet, I haven’t seen the need. She’s been upset enough recently. I’m not about to add to it.”

“She better not be living in fear.”

“She isn’t.” Gabriel sounded impatient.

“I find she is, you and me got a problem.”

Julia’s footsteps echoed across the hardwood floor and the voices stopped.

She entered the living room and saw Jack standing by the far wall, his form menacing.

Gabriel was standing a few feet away, having adopted a similar posture.

“What’s going on?” she asked.

Gabriel lifted his arm and she went to him, curling into his side. “Nothing. Did you help Diane?”

“A little. But I need your help now. I have a few boxes I need to carry out to the car.”

“Absolutely.” Gabriel gave Jack a significant look as he followed Julia into the hall.

The day before the wedding, Julia agreed to help Diane’s sister, the maid of honor, by running errands. She visited the florist to double-check the order, she visited the church hall to inspect the decorations, and she stopped in at Kinfolks restaurant.

Kinfolks would not have been her choice as the location of the rehearsal dinner, but since it was a place that held sentimental value for both the bride and groom, she kept her opinion to herself.

She’d just finished her meeting with the owner and the manager, ascertaining that everything would be ready for that evening, when she ran into Deb Lundy, her father’s ex-girlfriend, and Natalie, her daughter.

Julia tried to plaster an artificial smile on her face as Deb approached her.

“Hello, Jules. I haven’t seen you in a long time.”

“Hi, Deb. How are you?”

“Just fine. Natalie is home for the weekend and we’ve been doing some shopping.” Deb lifted the numerous bags that she was carrying.

Julia’s gaze moved nervously from the tall blond woman to her daughter, who was standing some feet away with a sour expression on her face. Both women were dressed in expensive clothing and obviously designer sandals. Both women clutched large Louis Vuitton handbags.

Natalie was an attractive young woman, with red hair and green eyes. She and Julia had been roommates at Saint Joseph’s University. They’d even been friends. But that was before Natalie decided to sleep with Julia’s then-boyfriend, Simon, and invite her to join them in a threesome.

“Natalie was supposed to be in the Hamptons this weekend with her boyfriend. You remember him, don’t you? Simon Talbot, the senator’s son?”

“I know who he is.” Julia resisted the urge to comment further. Deb knew exactly who Simon was to Julia and that he’d been arrested for assaulting her two years previous. Sadly, the arrest had yielded only a plea agreement and community service.

Ignoring Julia’s obvious discomfort, Deb prattled on.

“Mrs. Talbot became ill and so their trip to the Hamptons was canceled. But I’m glad Natalie was able to come home. We see so little of her now that she’s working for the senator’s presidential campaign. She has a very important job.”

“Congratulations,” said Julia, trying to keep the contempt out of her voice.

Natalie ignored Julia and turned to her mother. “We need to go.”

Julia watched her former roommate curiously. The last time they’d seen one another was in this very restaurant. Natalie had cornered her and shown her a clip from a video that Simon had made. A video that showed Julia in a compromising position. Natalie had threatened to post the video on the Internet if Julia didn’t withdraw the assault charges against Simon.

In a surprising turn of events, Julia had stood her ground. She even threatened to go to The Washington Post and tell them that Simon had sent his new girlfriend to blackmail her. The senator would not have been pleased.

At the time, Natalie seemed skeptical that Julia would carry through on her threat. But she must have changed her mind. There was no evidence that the video had been shared or posted anywhere. It was as if they’d given up.

Julia wondered occasionally why she hadn’t heard from them. But she decided to count herself lucky and simply accept her good fortune.

Seeing Natalie now, Julia expected her to be rude or aggressive. She expected Natalie to offer veiled threats or innuendo. Instead, she appeared agitated, shifting her weight back and forth and glancing at the door. It was as if she were afraid of something.

Julia didn’t see any intimidating people in the restaurant or outside on the sidewalk. She wondered what was bothering Natalie. And why her smugness and superiority had been magically eliminated.

Deb gestured to her daughter to wait.

“It was good seeing you, Jules. I hear your dad is getting married again.”

“Tomorrow, yes.”

“Never thought he was the marrying kind. I guess old age will do that to you.”

Julia lifted an eyebrow. Deb was at least as old as her father, if not a year or two older. But she had no wish to be drawn into a confrontation.

“Let’s go.” Natalie tugged on her mother’s arm, and the two women walked toward the door.

Julia watched their departing backs with the distinct sense that she was missing something. Something important.

“Aren’t you exhausted?” Rachel leaned over the kitchen island two days later and rested her head on her outstretched arm. “We were out late the night of the rehearsal dinner, and out late last night at the wedding. I need more sleep.”

Julia laughed as she shucked corn for dinner. “I guess it’s a good thing I had a nap this afternoon.”

Rachel rolled her eyes. “Sure you did. Gabriel said he napped this afternoon, too, but he’s never napped a day in his life. I doubt he naps when you’re in bed with him.”

The color rose in Julia’s cheeks, and she focused intently on the corn as she changed the subject. “The wedding was beautiful. I can’t believe I got to dance with my dad at his wedding.”

“I don’t think I have the energy to celebrate your birthday tonight, Jules. I’m sorry I’m a bad friend.” Rachel’s voice was muffled by a yawn.

“Why don’t you go and take a nap?”

“I tried. Like you, my husband followed me. Ergo, no nap but lots of babymaking.”

Julia snickered. “How is that coming along?”

Rachel slumped forward dramatically. “I need a vacation.”

“From babymaking?”

She groaned, eyes shut.

“Yes, damn it. We’re having sex all the time but I’m not getting pregnant. It’s depressing.” She opened her eyes and rested her head on an upturned hand. “I need a break. Let me come and visit for a few days. I won’t be a bother, I promise.”

“I thought you wanted a baby.”

“I do, but at what cost? I never thought I’d say this, but we’re having too much sex. I’m beginning to feel like a machine.”

“Good God, what have I wandered into?” Gabriel’s eyebrows knitted together as he entered the kitchen from the back porch.

“Nothing. Your sister is just worn out. Rachel, skip dinner and go lie down in our room. You can join us for dessert.”

“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.