call or email you? Did he try to meet with you?” Professor Martin appeared friendly, but there was an undertone to his demeanor that made Julia suspicious.
“Why do you care? You got what you wanted. He left the city.”
The Dean’s expression tightened. “I’m not about to retry the case with you, Miss Mitchell. This meeting is a courtesy, an attempt to ensure that you have been able to proceed with your education free of interference. We’re trying to determine if Professor Emerson kept his word and left you alone.”
“I received an email from him a few days after the hearing. He told me to stop contacting him and that we were over. That’s what you want to hear, right?” She couldn’t keep the bitterness out of her voice.
Professor Martin exchanged a meaningful look with the Dean. “I’m sure you’re glad to put this matter behind you.”
Julia sat silently, not bothering to answer.
“You’re free to go. Congratulations on a successful year and congratulations on being admitted to Harvard. We’ll see you at graduation.” The Dean nodded at her dismissively.
She picked up her knapsack and walked to the door. Just as her hand reached for the doorknob she stopped, turning to face the two professors.
How strange it is, she thought, that these two men, armed only with massive intellects and closets full of tweed, could wield so much power over her heart and her happiness.
“I don’t regret my relationship with Professor Emerson, even though it ended badly. Both of you were incredibly dismissive and patronizing to me throughout this entire process. I understand the importance of protecting someone who needs protection, but the only people I needed protection from was you.”
Julia gave them a withering look and exited the office.
Chapter 37
Gabriel stayed so long in Assisi, he became a fixture at the Basilica. Every day he spent a long hour sitting by St. Francis’s crypt, thinking. Sometimes he prayed. Sometimes God seemed near and other times he seemed far away. At all times, Gabriel wished he was with Julia, although he began to realize how flawed their relationship had been—how he’d wanted to change his ways to be worthy of her when really, he should have changed because he was an insufferable ass.
He was enjoying lunch one day at the hotel when a fellow American struck up a conversation with him. The man was a physician from California, who was visiting Assisi with his wife and teenaged son.
“We’re going to Florence tomorrow, and we’ll be there for two months.”
“Doing what?” Gabriel asked, eying the gray-haired man curiously.
“We’ll be staying with the Franciscans. My wife, who is a nurse, and I will be working in a medical clinic. My son is going to be helping the homeless.”
Gabriel frowned. “You’re doing this as volunteers?”
“Yes. We wanted to do this as a family.” The man paused and looked at Gabriel intently.
“Would you consider coming with us? The Franciscans can always use more help.”
“No,” said Gabriel, stabbing a piece of beef determinedly. “I’m not Catholic.”
“Neither are we. We’re Lutherans.”
Gabriel gazed at the doctor with interest. His knowledge of Lutherans was limited almost exclusively to the writings of Garrison Keillor. (Not that he was willing to admit it.)
The doctor smiled. “We wanted to lend a hand to a good work. I wanted to encourage my son to think beyond beach vacations and video games.”
“Thank you for the invitation, but I must decline.” Gabriel was firm in his response, and so the doctor changed the subject.
Later that evening, Gabriel stared out the window of his simple hotel room, thinking as he always did about Julia.
She wouldn’t have said no. She would have gone.
As ever, he was reminded of the divide between her generosity and his selfishness. A divide that, even after spending so many months with her, was yet to be breached.
* * *
Two weeks later, Gabriel stood in front of the monument to Dante in Santa Croce. He’d joined the Lutherans in their trip to Florence and become one of the Franciscans’ most troublesome volunteers. He served meals to the poor but was horrified by the quality of food on offer, so he wrote a check to hire a caterer to make the meals. He went with the other volunteers as they gave toiletries and clean clothing to homeless people, but he was so troubled by the lack of cleanliness of the men and women that he wrote a check to construct washrooms and shower facilities for the homeless at the Franciscan mission.
In short, by the time