Gabriel's Redemption

Chapter Sixty-five

December 2011

Near Essex Junction, Vermont

Two nights before Christmas, Paul was working in the barn, deep in thought.

(Parenthetically, it should be noted that he was also deep in something else. Something organic.)

“Hey.”

His sister Heather had wandered almost silently into the barn and was now staring at him, arms folded across her chest.

“Hey yourself.” He continued working, speaking to her over his shoulder. “What are you doing?”

“Chris had to look at one of the Andersons’ horses. They think it has colic. He’ll be out most of the night, so I asked him to drop me off. How are you?”

“Fine.”

“You don’t sound fine.” She stared at him until he met her gaze.

“I’m just preoccupied with my upcoming interviews. I’m meeting with six different colleges at the Modern Language Association convention in January. That’s a lot of pressure.”

“Right.” Heather gazed at her big brother skeptically.

“I have an interview with St. Mike’s. If they hire me, I could help Dad out on the weekends.”

“That’s great news. I’ll put in a good word with St. Michael, himself, asking that he see to it that you get the job.”

Heather cocked her head to one side and listened to the music that was playing in the background. It was a cover of “In the Sun” and Paul was listening to it on repeat, over and over again.

“If you’re excited about your job prospects, then why the hell are you listening to this? I’m ready to slit my wrists already and I just got here.”

He glared at her and began walking in the opposite direction.

She followed.

“I ran into Ali the other day at Hannaford’s.”

“Mm-hmm.”

“Why don’t you ask her out?”

“We go out once in a while.”

“I mean on a date, not as friends.”

“We broke up.” He laid emphasis on the words. “A couple of years ago.”

“Chris wants to go snowboarding in Stowe for New Year’s. He’s going to rent a place so we don’t have to drive back and forth. Invite Ali and come with us.”

“That’s not a good idea.”

Heather reached out and caught her brother’s arm, stopping him midmotion. “Yes, it is. It will be like old times. Ask her.”

“We can’t leave Mom here by herself.”

“That’s why you hired extra help. Virgil.” Heather gave him a toothy grin.

“I’m not Virgil. I’m Dante,” he mumbled.

“What?”

“Nothing.” He turned away.

“Look, big guy, you need to blow off some steam. You’re letting things fester. I can see it.” She grinned at him impishly and tried to tickle him. “Fester, fester, fester.”

Paul swatted her hands away. “If I say yes, will you bug off?”

“Absolutely.”

“Fine. Now get lost.”

“Fine. I’ll make coffee. And when you come to the house, I’ll expect you to call her.”

Heather disappeared from the barn and Paul stood still for a moment, wondering what he had just agreed to.