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“They’re my favorite flower,” she remarked shyly, more to herself than to him.
“Mine too, probably because they symbolize Florence. But for you, I think the association has a deeper meaning.” He winked at her impertinently and began preparing breakfast.
Julia huffed slightly. She knew what he was referring to: the iris was a symbol of Mary in the Middle Ages and so it became associated with virginity. In giving her irises, Gabriel was saluting her purity. Which was a strange thing for a would-be lover to do, she had to admit.
Maybe he was serious about being friends, after all.
Taking the flowers and her coffee with her, she went to the dining room. She sat down and sipped her drink, trying to plan what to say to him.
He joined her shortly, bringing her breakfast and seating himself in the chair next to her at the head of the table.
“Buon appetito.”
Julia quickly concluded that she was eating better at Gabriel’s than she had ever eaten, outside of Italy. In front of her sat a plate of fresh fruit, pain au chocolat, and sliced baguette and cheese, most notably Brie, Mimolette, and Gorgonzola. He’d even decorated their plates with parsley and orange sections.
He held up his champagne flute and waited until she did the same.
“These are Bellinis, not Mimosas. I thought you’d prefer it.”
They clinked their glasses together, and Julia took a sip. It tastes like a sparkling peach, she thought. It was so much better than orange juice.
Although she wondered why he’d decided to drink again.
“You’re very good at this,” she said.
“Good at what?”
“Seductive food play. I’m sure your overnight guests don’t want to leave.”
Gabriel placed his fork down somewhat roughly on his plate and wiped his lips with his linen napkin. “I am not in the habit of entertaining overnight guests. And certainly never like this.” He glared at her. “I thought it would be obvious that you are different — that I’m treating you differently.”
He shook his head. “Perhaps not.”
“You said we’d talk,” she injected, changing the subject.
“Yes.” He gazed at her for a moment. “I have some questions I would like to ask, and I have some things to say.”
“I didn’t agree to an inquisition.”
“This is hardly an inquisition. A few questions, primarily because when I first met you I was not entirely lucid. So forgive me if I wish to have a clearer idea of what actually happened.” Gabriel’s tone was slightly sarcastic.
She speared a strawberry with her fork and bolted it. Fine. Let him ask questions. I have a few to ask as well, and they won’t be pretty.
“Before we begin, I think we should agree to some ground rules. I’d like to speak to you about the past before we discuss the present or the future. Is that all right?”
“Agreed.”
“And I promise that what you say to me will be kept strictly confidential.
I hope that you will extend the same courtesy to me.”
“Of course.”
“Are there any ground rules you’d like to establish?”
“Um, just that we tell one another the truth.”
“Absolutely. Now, how old were you when we first met?”
“I’m the same age as Rachel,” she began, evasively, and when he looked at her sharply she added, “seventeen.”
“Seventeen?”
Gabriel cursed several times and took a lengthy drink of his Bellini.
He was clearly rattled by her revelation, which more than surprised her.
“Why did you come to see me that night?”
“I didn’t. I was invited to dinner, but when I arrived Rachel and Aaron were flying out the door. I heard a noise and found you on the porch.”
Gabriel seemed to think about this for a moment. “You knew who I was?”
“They talked about you all the time.”
“Did you know how f**ked up I was?”
“No. No one ever said anything bad about you, at least not in front of me. Even afterward. They only said nice things.”
“What happened the morning after?”
This was the part that Julia didn’t want to talk about. She ignored his question and began eating her pastry, knowing he wouldn’t expect her to answer when her mouth was full.
“This is important, Julianne. I want to know what happened. My memory of the next morning is a little fuzzy.”
Her eyes flashed to his, and she swallowed hard.
“Really? Well, let me enlighten you. I woke up before sunrise, alone, in the middle of the woods. You left me there. I was terrified, so I grabbed the blanket and took off. But I couldn’t remember the path we took, and it was still dark. I wandered around in hysterics for almost two hours until I finally found my way back to your parents’ house.” Julia started to shake.
“I didn’t think I’d ever find my way back.”
“That’s where you went,” he breathed.
“What are you talking about?”
“I didn’t leave you.”
“What do you call it then?”
“I must have woken up shortly before you did. You were asleep in my arms, and I didn’t want to wake you, but I had to — relieve myself. So I wandered off. Then I stopped for a smoke and picked a few apples for our breakfast. When I returned, you were gone. I went back to the house but you weren’t there. I assumed you’d left, and I went upstairs to crash in my old bedroom.”
“You assumed I’d left?”
“Yes.” He gazed at her steadily.
“I called your name, Gabriel! I shouted for you.”
“I didn’t hear you. I was hungover, and maybe I wandered a little too far away.”
“You didn’t smoke when you were with me,” she sounded skeptical.
“No, I didn’t. And I quit soon afterward.”
“Why didn’t you try to find me?”
Guilt clouded his eyes, and he looked away.
“My family woke me up, demanding that I deal with the aftermath of the night before. When I asked where Beatrice was, Richard told me I was delusional.”
“What about Rachel?”
“I left before she returned. She refused to speak to me for months.”
“Don’t lie to me, Gabriel. I brought your jacket back. I folded it and put it on top of the blanket and set it on the porch. That was a clue. And didn’t someone see my bike?”
“I don’t know what they saw. Grace gave me my jacket, and no one mentioned you or your name, not that I would have recognized it. It was as if you were a ghost.”
“How could you have thought it was a dream? You weren’t that drunk.”
He closed his eyes and clenched his fists. Julia watched the tendons stand out on his arms, rippling up and down.
Gabriel opened his eyes, but kept them fixed on the table. “Because I was hungover and confused, and I was strung out on coke.”
Slam.
That was the sound of Julia’s fairy tale crashing into the unyielding wall of reality. Her eyes widened, and she inhaled sharply.
“Didn’t Rachel ever tell you what precipitated the fight? Richard knew when he picked me up at the airport in Harrisburg that I was on something. He searched my room before dinner and found my stash. When he confronted me, I snapped.”
Julia closed her eyes and put her head in her hands.
He sat very still, waiting for her to speak.
“Cocaine,” she whispered.
Gabriel squirmed in his chair. “Yes.”
“I spent the night in the woods, alone, with a twenty-seven-year-old coke head who was strung out and drunk. What a stupid, stupid girl.”
He clenched his teeth. “Julianne, you are not stupid. I’m the f**k up.
I should have known better than to lead you out there in my condition.”
She exhaled slowly and her shoulders began to shudder.
“Look at me, Julianne.”
She shook her head.
“I saw your father that morning.”
Julia peered over at him. “You did?”
“You know what it’s like to live in a small town. The gossip started when Richard brought Scott to the hospital and neither of them would explain how he got hurt. Your father caught wind of it and came over to see if he could help.”
“He never mentioned it.”
“Richard and Grace were embarrassed. I’m sure your father wanted to protect them from small town gossip. Since no one but you and I knew what happened between us…” His voice trailed off, and he shook his head.
“Why didn’t you tell Rachel?”
“I was traumatized. And humiliated.”
Gabriel winced. He reached over to take her hand in his, his eyes burning into hers. “Don’t you remember what happened between us?”
Julia threw his hand back.
“Of course I remember! That’s the reason I’ve been so screwed up.
Sometimes I’d think back to that night and I’d believe what you said. I’d try to convince myself that you must have had a reason for leaving.
“Other times, all I could think about was how you abandoned me, and I’d have nightmares about being lost in the woods. But do you know what the sickest thing is? I hoped that you would come back. For years I hoped you’d show up on my doorstep and tell me you wanted me. That you meant what you’d said about being glad you’d found me. How pathetic is that?”
