Gabriel's Redemption

Chapter Sixty-nine

That night the Emersons had difficulty sleeping. Julia was plagued by fear and guilt—fear about what would happen to her academic aspirations and guilt at placing such a high priority on them. Gabriel was conflicted. On the one hand, he was ecstatic that they were expecting a child. But Julianne’s concern and evident distress prevented him from displaying his true feelings. He, too, was mired in guilt for not having protected her.

Of course, neither one of them expected that the vasectomy reversal would be successful so soon, if at all.

While everyone else in Richard’s household spent the day in leisurely community, Julia stayed in bed. She was exhausted. Certainly, she wasn’t prepared to face Rachel and Aaron, even though she and Gabriel had agreed that they would wait until the three-month mark to announce their pregnancy.

Gabriel spent the day trying to pretend that he hadn’t received what was potentially the best news of his life. He resolved to give Julianne the time and space she seemed to need to come to grips with what was, for her, a startling disappointment.

Late that evening, she was curved into a ball, lying on her side in the large bed. Everyone else in the house was fast asleep. Everyone except her husband.

Gabriel was spooned behind her, his arm wrapped loosely about her waist. She’d slept most of the day, so of course she wasn’t tired now. Even though he skirted the edge of exhaustion, his concern for her prevented him from resting.

Her deepest fear had been realized. She was pregnant and only midway through her second year of a seven-year doctoral program.

She sniffled at the thought.

Instinctively, Gabriel drew her closer to him, his hand splaying across her lower abdomen.

For a few moments, he allowed himself the luxury of wondering what his life would have been like if Maia had been born. He’d barely had time for Paulina when she was pregnant. He doubted his attitude would have changed when she had the baby.

His stomach rolled. He could see himself hurling expletives at her to keep the baby quiet as Maia cried, disrupting his writing. Paulina would have had to bear the burden of parenthood alone. He wouldn’t have taken the time to feed the baby, or rock her to sleep, or, God forbid, change a diaper. He’d been a self-centered, drug-using bastard back then. It would have been negligence on Paulina’s part to leave Maia in his care.

He would have moved out, leaving Paulina to cope with Maia by herself. Oh, he might have given her money. But his addiction would have eaten all his funds until it eventually killed him. Then Paulina and Maia would have been alone.

Even if he’d gone into treatment and miraculously made it through, he still couldn’t imagine being an active, involved father. No. The old professor would have been too busy writing books and trying to further his career. He would have sent birthday cards and money, or, more probably, had his secretary or maybe one of the many women in his life send them for him.

In short, he would have been like his father, fighting with Paulina on the telephone over his lack of involvement until he finally tired of the conflict and ceased contact altogether. His vision of what his life would have been like was very clear.

He grounded himself by tightening his hold on Julianne. He was no longer the old professor; he was a new man. He resolved with everything that was in him to be the best, most active, attentive husband and father he could be.

The first thing he needed to do was to comfort his wife. Then he needed to take steps to ensure that she didn’t lose everything she’d worked for since she was in high school.

He opened his mouth to begin whispering to her, but Julia extricated herself, tossing the blankets aside and moving toward the closet. He heard her switch on the light and start rummaging through some clothes.

Gabriel followed. By the time he made it to the closet, she’d pulled on a pair of jeans and one of his old cashmere sweaters and was searching for socks.

“What are you doing?”

“I can’t sleep.” She didn’t look at him as she leaned over to put on a pair of his argyle socks.

“Where are you going?”

“I thought I might go for a drive. Clear my head.”

“Then I’m going with you.” He reached over to pull a shirt off a hanger.

She closed her eyes. “Gabriel, I need time to think.”

He lifted a pair of jeans and a sweater from one of the shelves.

“Remember what I said in New York?”

“You said a lot of things in New York.”

“I said that being apart was a bad idea. You agreed with me. We’re partners, remember?”

She kicked at the hardwood beneath her argyle socks. “I remember.”

“Don’t shut me out.” His tone was almost pleading.

“I have no idea what to say to you. This is my darkest nightmare come true!”

Gabriel rocked back on his heels, almost as if he’d been struck.

“Nightmare?” he whispered. “Nightmare?”

Julia couldn’t look at him.

“This is why I need time to think. I don’t know how to express what I feel without hurting you. I’m going to lose everything I’ve worked for because of this. You can’t imagine how much this hurts.”

A muscle jumped in his jaw.

“I’m the one who was hesitant for us to have a baby.” His voice was low. “This has brought up all my old anxieties, too.”

She lifted her head, her eyes flashing.

“You know me, Gabriel. You know I won’t do anything to take this away from you.”

They exchanged a look before she bent her eyes to the floor.

“Let me go with you. We don’t have to talk. I just want to be near you.” His tone grew gentle.

Julia realized that he was trying very hard to be considerate, even though his first instinct was to take charge and take over.

“Fine,” she said, reluctantly.

They walked downstairs and bundled up against the cold, winding scarves around their necks. In the hall closet Gabriel retrieved his beret and Julia found an old knitted cap that belonged to Rachel.

“What would you think of a walk?” He toyed with the keys he’d left on the hall table.

“A walk? It’s freezing out there.”

“We don’t have to walk long. The fresh air will help you sleep.”

“Fine.” Julia followed him through the living room and into the kitchen, where he retrieved a flashlight.

Then she was following him out the back door and onto the snow-covered patio.

He didn’t offer his hand but kept close to her, as if he were worried she might fall.

They walked in silence into the woods, their breath making ghostlike ribbons in the air. When they arrived at the orchard, Julia leaned against the old rock, hugging her arms tightly around her middle.

“We keep coming back here.”

Gabriel stood in front of her, shining the flashlight beam to the side.

“Yes, we do. This place reminds me of what’s important. It reminds me of you.”

Julia turned away from the concern that she saw on his face.

“I have a lot of happy memories from here.” His voice took on a wistful tone. “Our first night together, the night we made plans to consummate our love, our engagement . . .” He smiled. “That night back in the summer when we made love just over there.”

She followed his gesture to the space on which they’d lain entwined. Images and emotions crashed over her. She could almost feel his arms about her, skin against skin.

“Several months ago I was apprehensive about having a child. You persuaded me to have hope; to look forward and not to the past. Our hope was rewarded with the knowledge that my family tree is not entirely cursed.”

“God is punishing me,” she blurted.

His forehead furrowed. “What are you talking about?”

“God is punishing me. I wanted to graduate from Harvard and become a professor. Now—”

“God doesn’t work that way,” Gabriel interrupted.

“How do you know?”

He removed one of his leather gloves and brought his hand to the side of her neck, just under her ear.

“Because a young woman, wise beyond her years, told me so.”

“And you believed her?” She looked up at him, eyes brimming.

“She’s never lied to me,” he whispered. “And when a brown-eyed angel speaks to you, it’s best to listen.”

Julia laughed mirthlessly. “I think your brown-eyed angel screwed up.”

Gabriel’s face grew pained before he exerted control over his features. But she saw his expression.

“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to hurt you.” She reached for him and he moved closer, moving his other hand to cup her neck as well.

“I don’t know what to say that won’t make me look like a patriarchal, unfeeling asshole.”

“Oh, really, Professor?”

He pressed his lips together, his eyes guarded. “Really.”

“Try me.”

His thumbs stroked her jaw synchronously.

“I know this isn’t what you want. I know the timing is terrible. But I can’t help it.” His thumbs stilled. “I’m happy.”

“I’m terrified. I’m going to be a mother twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. I’ll never be able to study for my general exams and research my dissertation. Not while I have to look after a baby. This is exactly what I was afraid was going to happen.”

She squeezed her eyes shut and two tears escaped, trailing down her cheeks.

Gabriel wiped them away.

“You’re speaking as if you’ll be a single parent, Julianne. But you won’t. I’ll make sure that all the responsibility for the baby doesn’t fall to you. I’ll speak to Rebecca and ask her to move in with us. Maybe I could take a paternity leave or use my sabbatical. I’ll—”

“Paternity leave? Are you serious?” Her eyes widened.

“Deadly.” He shifted his boots in the snow. “It would be a nightmare for the baby, I’m sure, to be left with me. But I’ll do whatever it takes to guarantee that you finish your program. If that means taking a paternity leave or using my sabbatical, I’ll do it.”

“You’ve never looked after a baby before.”

Gabriel gave her a look that could only be described as prim.

“I went to Princeton, Oxford, and Harvard. I can certainly learn how to look after a baby.”

“Looking after a baby is not like conquering the Ivy League.”

“I’ll do research. I’ll buy all the relevant books on newborns and study them before the baby arrives.”

“Your colleagues will ridicule you.”

“Let them.” His blue eyes grew fierce.

The edges of Julia’s mouth turned up.

“You’ll be up to your elbows in dirty diapers and burping cloths, surviving on a few hours’ sleep, and trying to soothe a cranky, colicky tyrant by reading Goodnight Moon over and over. In English. Because I don’t think Dante successfully completed his Italian translation of it.”

“To quote a common, urban saying: Bring it on.”

She grasped his wrist with her hand. “Your department will marginalize you. They’ll say you aren’t serious about your research. Their opinions might diminish the likelihood of you winning grants or further sabbaticals.”

“I’m a full professor with tenure. Fuck them.”

For one impetuous moment, Julia was seized with the urge to laugh.

But she didn’t.

“I’m serious, Julianne. Fuck them. What can they do to me? Barring anything Apocalyptic, they’re stuck with me. How I choose to order my family life is none of their business.”

“Why are you so determined to do this?” She searched his eyes.

“Because I love you. Because I love our child already, even though he or she is probably smaller than a grape.” He stroked her cheeks with his thumbs. “You are not alone. You have a husband who loves you and is happy we’re having a baby. You won’t go through this by yourself.”

He lowered his voice to a whisper. “I’m standing right here. Don’t push me away.”

She closed her eyes, clutching his forearms.

“I’m frightened.”

“So am I. But I swear to God, Julianne, it will be all right. I will make it all right.”

“What if something goes wrong?”

He brought their foreheads together. “I hope nothing like that happens. But we shouldn’t start this journey by thinking of all the terrible outcomes. You’re the one who taught me to hope. Don’t despair.”

“How could this happen?”

He rummaged in his coat pocket for a handkerchief and gently wiped her face.

“If you don’t know how this happened, darling, then clearly I’m not doing it right.”

He tried to smother a smirk and failed. Completely.

Julia opened her eyes to see his own, slightly darkened with masculine pride.

“Superman,” she muttered. “I should have known you had magic in your genes.”

“Why, yes, Mrs. Emerson, I do have magic in my jeans. I’d happily put on a magic show for you at any time. All you need do is ask.”

Julia rolled her eyes. “Very funny, Superman.”

He kissed her then, tenderly. It was the kiss of a man who’d just received what he desired most from his beloved. A most desired, most unexpected gift.

“I . . . I prayed for this,” he said hesitantly.

“I did, too. More than once. I should have known that St. Francis would not have rested until he persuaded God to give us a baby.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that.” He tapped her nose with his finger. “A certain Dante scholar convinced me that St. Francis tended to get his point across with silence. Maybe he didn’t say anything. Maybe he just stood there.”

“Oh, he said something,” Julia complained. “This is his way of showing me my lecture was wrong and he actually fought with the demon for Guido’s soul.”

“I doubt that most sincerely. And so would Professor Wodehouse. In fact, I think St. Francis is probably bragging about you among the circle of the blessed.”

“I didn’t give him much to brag about these last few days. I’ve been spoiled and selfish.”

“You’re neither.” Gabriel’s tone grew severe. “You’ve been taken by surprise, just like me, but you have more at stake. As I said before, I promise I’ll take on more in order to even things out.”

He hugged her tightly.

“I didn’t expect my prayers to be answered. I still can’t get used to the idea that God would even listen to me, let alone decide to grant my requests.”

“Maybe this is the lavishness of God’s grace, given unexpectedly.”

“Fun dayn moyl in gots oyern.”

Julia lifted her eyebrows. “Yiddish?”

“Exactly. It means, ‘From your mouth to God’s ears.’”

A warm feeling expanded in her middle.

“We’ll be able to teach the baby Yiddish. And Italian. And about his famous great-grandfather, Professor Spiegel.”

“And his famous mother, Professor Julianne Emerson. You will finish your program, Julianne, and you will become a professor. I swear to it.”

She burrowed her face in the wool of his winter coat.