think he ever felt at home with us. He never became a Clark.”
Julia thought of Gabriel as a scared and hungry little boy and fought back tears. She imagined his eyes, large and blue in his pale but angelic face. His shock of brown hair spiked and unruly. Dirty clothes and a crazy mother. Julia knew what it was like to have an alcoholic mother. She knew what it was like to cry herself to sleep at night wishing someone, anyone, would love her. She and Gabriel had more in common than she cared to admit. Much, much more.
“I’m sorry, Rachel. I didn’t know.”
“I’m not excusing his rudeness. I’m just telling you who he is. Did you know that after his horrible fight with Scott, Mom lit a candle every night and placed it in one of the windows? She thought that if Gabriel happened to be in Selinsgrove and saw the candle, he would know that she was waiting for him, that she loved him, and he’d walk up the front steps and come in.”
Julia shook her head. She hadn’t known that, but she believed it. That’s just who Grace was—charity unbound.
“He pretends to be whole, but he’s been broken. And deep down, he hates himself. I told him to treat you nicely, so I think his behavior will improve. Let me know if it doesn’t and I’ll deal with him.”
Julia snorted. “He ignores me, mostly. I’m a lowly grad student, and he doesn’t let me forget it.”
“I find that difficult to believe. I doubt very much that he would stare so intensely at a ‘lowly’ grad student.”
Julia busied herself with her chocolate. “He stares at me?” She was trying very hard to sound relaxed, but her voice sounded unnatural, shaky even.
“He stares at you all the time. Haven’t you noticed? I caught him looking at you over dinner the other night and when we were at the club. Every time you took a drink, actually. And when I winked at him, he scowled.” Rachel looked at her friend thoughtfully. “I see the two of you together, and I feel like I’m missing something…He knew that I was going shopping this week, and he not only encouraged me, he gave me money.”
“So? That’s nice. That’s what big brothers are for. What did you buy?”
“The money was for you, not me.”
Julia frowned and turned sideways on the bed, cross-legged, so that she could face her friend. “Why the hell would he do that?”
“You tell me.” Rachel cocked her head to one side.
“I don’t know. He’s been rude to me since I got here.”
“Well, he gave me some money and told me to buy you a gift. He was very specific. So here it is.” Rachel placed the box in Julia’s lap.
“I don’t want it.” She tried to hand it back, but Rachel refused.
“At least open it and see what it is.”
Julia shook her head, but Rachel insisted. So she opened the box. In it she found a very nice chocolate-brown, Italian-made leather messenger bag. She held the bag up by its strap and looked at it. The label said Fendi.
Holy crap, thought Julia.
“Well? What do you think?”
“I don’t—know,” she stammered, staring at the beautiful and classic bag in astonishment.
Rachel took it from her and began rummaging through it, muttering about its internal stitching, numerous compartments, and overall quality workmanship. “See how perfect it is? It’s functional and feminine, since it’s a messenger bag and not a briefcase, and it’s Italian. And we both know that you and Gabriel have a thing…for Italy,” she added, after a pause that was designed to elicit some kind of reaction.
Julia’s telltale flush and immediate nervousness told Rachel all she needed to know, but she chose not to embarrass her friend any further. “I’m not supposed to tell you it’s from him. He was very explicit. Of course, I ignored him.” She chuckled.
“Your brother wants me to have this because he doesn’t like looking at my ratty old knapsack. Its very existence offends his patrician sensibilities, so he thinks he can use you to persuade me to get rid of it. But I’m not going to. It’s an L.L. Bean, damn it, and they offer a lifetime guarantee. I’ll send it back to Maine, and they’ll replace it. He can take his messenger bag and shove it up his I’m-too-good-for-domestic-items ass.”
Rachel was stunned momentarily. “It’s not as if he’ll miss the money. He has piles of it.”
“Professors don’t make that much money.”
“That’s right. He inherited