her MA on June eleventh.
Dressed in simple black with artful shoes, Julia left Paul and Tom on the steps of Convocation Hall while she went to line up with all the other graduating students.
Tom liked Paul. A lot.
Paul was forthright and had a firm handshake. He looked Tom directly in the eye when they spoke to one another. Paul offered his assistance in helping move Julia to Cambridge, including accommodations on his family’s farm in Burlington, even after Tom had insisted that he could move Julia by himself. Tom dropped a hint to his daughter over dinner the evening before graduation, suggesting that Paul was an obvious choice for a new love interest, but Julia pretended she hadn’t heard him.
As the graduates filed into the hall, Julia couldn’t help but scan the audience, looking for Gabriel. With so many people it was unlikely that she would see him, even if he were present. However, when she gazed over at the faculty section she easily located Katherine Picton, dressed in her Oxonian robes. If the faculty were arranged alphabetically, and it certainly seemed as if they were, then Julia should have been able to guess where Gabriel would be seated, dressed in Harvard’s crimson. But he wasn’t.
When they called Julia’s name, it was Katherine who ascended the stage in slow but certain steps to hood Julia with the vestment of a magister. It was Katherine who shook her hand professionally, wished her well at Harvard, and handed her the diploma.
Later that evening, after a celebratory dinner with Paul and Tom at a local steakhouse, Julia checked her voice mail and found a new message. It was from Rachel.
“Congratulations, Julia! We all send our love and we have presents for you. Thanks for sending me your new address in Cambridge. I’ll mail everything and make sure it arrives after you do. I’m also sending your bridesmaid’s dress.
“Dad booked your flight from Boston to Philadelphia for August twenty-first. I hope that’s okay. He wanted to pay for it, and I know that you were planning on coming a week early.
“I still haven’t heard from Gabriel. I’m hoping he was at your graduation. But if he wasn’t, maybe you two will be able to sort everything out at the wedding. I can’t imagine that he’d miss it. He’s supposed to be a groomsman, and I don’t even have his measurements for his tux!”
Chapter 39
A certain blue-eyed Dante specialist read T.S. Eliot’s poem Ash Wednesday before offering his nighttime prayers. He was alone, and yet not alone.
Looking at the photograph on his bedside table he thought about her graduation. How beautiful and proud she would have looked in her robes. With a sigh, he closed his book of poetry and turned out the light.
In the darkness of his old bedroom in the Clarks’ former house, he reflected on the past weeks. He’d left Italy and traveled to Boston and Minnesota. He’d promised the Franciscans he’d return, for they’d said (wisely) that they prized his presence more than his donations. With that thought in mind, he closed his eyes.
* * *
“Gabriel, it’s time to get up.”
Groaning, he kept his eyes shut, hoping the voice would go away. Sleep was peaceful and he needed it.
“Come on. I know you’re awake.” The voice laughed softly, and he felt the mattress dip next to his legs.
He opened his eyes and saw his adoptive mother sitting on the edge of his bed. “Is it time for school?” he asked, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.
Grace laughed again, the sound light and airy like music. “You’re a bit old to be going to school, at least as a student.”
He looked around, confused. Then he sat up.
She smiled warmly and held out her hand. He relished the feel of her soft hand in his before squeezing it.
“What’s the matter?” She gave him a puzzled look that was not unkind, as he held her hand in both of his.
“I never said good-bye. I wasn’t able to tell you—” He paused and inhaled quickly. “That I love you.”
“A mother knows these things, Gabriel. I’ve always known.”
He was momentarily overcome with a wave of emotion as he reached over and pulled her into a hug. “I didn’t know you were sick. Rachel told me you were getting better. I should have been there.”
Grace patted him on the back. “I want you to stop blaming yourself for everything. You made the best decision you could given the information you had at the time. No one expects