Gabriel's Redemption

Chapter Eighty-one

August 2012

Near Burlington, Vermont

As the winter months passed, Paul spent more and more time with Allison. They went to dinner and to the movies. They flirted via email and text message. And his cupboards at the Norris farmhouse were always filled with Dunkin’ Donuts coffee and homemade cookies.

In fact, his friendship with Ali (for so he was still calling it) had become very important to him. He eagerly looked forward to spending time with her every weekend. And although their physical relationship hadn’t progressed beyond a few chaste kisses, their connection continued to deepen.

However, neither of them could have anticipated the overwhelming joy that was to come in early March when Paul was offered the position of assistant professor in the Department of English at Saint Michael’s College. He didn’t waste time fussing over the salary or negotiating a lighter teaching load or other perks. He simply accepted the job. Gladly.

He emailed Julia about his job offer and they resumed their occasional, friendly correspondence. He was stunned when, in mid-April, she emailed him announcing that she was pregnant.

Given the fact that they’d had a gap in their correspondence, Paul didn’t feel comfortable interrogating her about the timing of her pregnancy. He certainly didn’t want to upset her, not only because he treasured their friendship but because he didn’t want Gabriel to withdraw his approval of his completed dissertation. Consequently, Paul simply sent her a congratulatory message and promised that he would send the baby a gift from Vermont.

Having successfully completed and defended his dissertation, and having survived graduation from the University of Toronto in June, Paul moved into his new office on the campus of St. Michael’s College at the end of August.

He was happy. He was going to live at home while he saved for a down payment on a house. He would help out on the farm when he could, but his father’s hired hands seemed to have everything running smoothly. And his father’s health had improved significantly.

As he unpacked his books in his new office, he found his Dante and Beatrice action figures. Alas, the company that produced them had ignored his repeated requests for a Virgil action figure.

(Once again, their official position was that Virgil was not worthy of action.)

He was just positioning Dante and Beatrice on top of his desk when he heard a knock.

“Come in,” he called over his shoulder, not turning around. “The door’s open.”

“Hi.”

Paul turned from Dante and Beatrice to see Allison standing in the doorway.

In that instant, although he’d seen her a thousand times, although he’d known her for years, Paul was struck by how pretty she was—her hair, her face, her eyes. She was beautiful.

“I thought you might be here. I wondered if you might need some help.”

“There isn’t much to do. I’m just arranging my books.” He placed the empty box on the floor.

Her face fell.

“Oh. Well, I didn’t mean to bother you. I’ll let you get back to work.”

She turned to go, and Paul’s heart plummeted into his shoes.

“Wait.”

He stood up and walked over to her, catching her hand in his.

“It’s good to see you.”

She smiled up at him. “It’s good to be seen.”

“You were gone for two weeks.”

“My sister needed help with her kids. I only planned to be gone for a week, but you know how it is.” She reached up and pushed some of his hair back from his forehead. “I missed you. I’ve been counting the days.”

“I missed you, too. A lot.”

They stared at one another for what seemed like an age before Paul found his words.

“I was going to take a break anyway. How about I take you to American Flatbread for pizza?”

“I’d like that.”

She moved to exit his office, but he tugged on her hand.

She looked up at him questioningly.

“Roses,” he whispered, stroking his work-roughened fingers over her knuckles.

“What?”

“Our first time together. Your skin smelled of roses.”

Two patches of pink appeared on her face.

“I didn’t think you’d remember.”

He looked down at her intensely.

“How could I forget? To this day, every time I smell roses I think of you.”

“I don’t wear roses anymore. I thought I grew out of them.”

He reached up to cup her face in his hand.

She leaned into it and closed her eyes.

“Would you wear roses again? For me?”

She opened her eyes, searching his.

“Only if you’re serious.”

“I am.” He tried to show her with his expression that he was telling the truth.

“Then yes.”

Allison moved into the gap between them and lightly pressed their lips together.

With a gentle push, Paul closed the door to his office and pulled her into his arms.