Paul watched her head go down and her teeth clamp onto her lower lip. He wondered what he’d done…should he not have touched her? Was she worried that Emerson would find out she had his cd?
“Julia?” His voice was quiet, and he made no move toward her. “I’m sorry. Did I do something wrong?”
“No. It’s nothing.” She glanced at him nervously and placed the cd on the shelf. “I love Mozart’s Requiem, and Lacrimosa is my favorite part. I didn’t know he liked it too. I’m just…um…surprised.”
“Borrow it.” He placed it in her hand. “If Emerson asks, I’ll say I have it. But at least if you borrow it you can upload it to your iPod and give it back to me on Monday.”
Julia looked at the cd. “I don’t know…”
“I’ve had it all week, and he hasn’t been looking for it. Maybe his mood has shifted. He started listening to it after he got home from Philadelphia.
Not sure why…”
Julia impulsively slid the cd into her decrepit knapsack. “Thanks.”
He smiled. “Anything for you, Julia.”
He wanted to hold her hand. Or at least to squeeze it for an instant.
But she was skittish, he could see, and so he gave her a wide berth as he led her into the hallway so that he could continue giving her a tour of the library.
“Uh, the Toronto Film Festival is on this weekend. I have a couple of tickets to some films on Saturday. Would you like to join me?” He tried to sound casual as he led her to the elevators.
“What films?”
“One is French and the other is German. I prefer European films.” He smiled half-heartedly. “I could trade the tickets for something more local…”
Julia shook her head. “I like European films too. As long as they’re subtitled. My French is almost non-existent, and I only know how to swear in German.”
Paul pressed the button for the elevator and turning, gave her a very long, very studious look. Then he grinned mischievously. “You can swear in German? How did you come by that?”
“I lived in the International House at Saint Joseph’s. One of the exchange students was from Frankfurt, and she really liked to swear — a lot.
By the end of the semester, we were all swearing in German. It was kind of a res hall thing.” She turned a light shade of pink and shuffled her sneakers.
Julia knew that Paul was a doctoral student, which meant that he’d already taken language courses in French and in German, in all probability.
No doubt he would make fun of her amateur linguistic skil s, as Christa had after a seminar. She waited for a snide remark or a dismissive wave of the hand.
But he only smiled and held the elevator door open for her. “My German is terrible. Maybe you can teach me to swear in it — that would be an improvement.”
Julia turned to him and smiled back. Widely this time. “Maybe. And I’d like to go to the movies with you on Saturday. Thanks for inviting me.”
“No problem.”
He was pleased with himself. The lovely Julia was coming to the Film Festival with him, and afterward, there would be dinner. He had yet to introduce her to his favorite Indian restaurant. Or perhaps he should do that tonight and take her to Chinatown after the double feature. Then he would take her to Greg’s for homemade ice cream…and invite her to accompany him to the Art Gallery of Ontario to see Frank Gehry’s architectural addition next weekend.
As they continued their tour, Paul resolved in his heart to be patient.
Very, very patient. And cautious, whenever he reached out a tentative hand to offer her a carrot or to gently stroke her soft fur with his fingers. Or else he knew he would frighten Rabbit away, and he wouldn’t have the opportunity to help her become Real.P
The next morning Julia sat on her narrow bed with her old laptop, working on her thesis proposal and listening to Mozart. Professor Emerson’s choice of music surprised her. How could he go from listening to Nine Inch Nails to this? Was he only listening to it because of Grace? Or was there some other reason he was torturing himself by repeating the same depressing track over and over again?
Julia closed her eyes and concentrated on the words to Lacrimosa, sung loudly and hauntingly by the multi-voice choir in Latin…
Day of Weeping,
on which will rise from ashes guilty man for judgment.
So have mercy, O Lord, on this man.
Compassionate Lord Jesus, grant them rest.
Amen.
What is wrong with Gabriel that he listens to this over and over again?
And what does it say about me that I can’t help but feel close to him when I listen to it? All I’ve done is replace his photograph with his cd — I’m just not sleeping with it under my pillow.
I am one sick puppy.
Julia shook her head and tried to concentrate on her thesis proposal, distracting herself from the sound of classical weeping with thoughts of Paul and the previous day’s activities.
He’d been very helpful. In addition to giving her a key to The Professor’s carrel, he’d offered advice about how best to structure her thesis proposal, and he’d made her laugh more than once — more than she had laughed in a very, very long time. He was a gentleman; he opened doors and carried her ugly, heavy knapsack. He was chivalrous, and Julia could not help but like him. It was nice to be around someone who was both handsome and sweet — an oft overlooked and frequently rare combination.