been off limits. I had begun to notice the reaction men were having to me. My hair, which had once been characterized by its unruly, untamable craziness, now fell in soft curls around my face. My skin had an even glow and my eyes were a gray blue that matched the northern Massachusetts sea. My body was strong and lean with developed muscles from years of swimming against the current. I was tall, taller than most of the girls I knew, just like the women who had preceded me in my grandmother's family.
The summers when I would wander around our beach community barefoot and free—with only a bikini and T-shirt on, going unnoticed and happy in my solitude—seemed to have ended this past season. I thought that it was because of him, my grandfather and his
work,
the unusual presence of the world famous physicist in the small oceanfront community. But for the first time, the thought occurred to me that it might have nothing to do with him at all.
"Did you hear what I just said, about meeting your grandmother."
I turn back to him. "No, that won't happen to me. Not now."
My hand tightens unconsciously around the amulet, my special gift, the treasure from so many years ago, being given to me now as a symbol of the transition.
His past, my future.
"Take it, Gabriella, and remember that you are right."
"It's hard enough for me without her, but, you, how can you—"
"You are right to feel that those who love you are always with you."
"Papa, to see you like this, I could never imagine your life without each other. How you would go on."
"But you do, you must."
"I hope that I can find what you two had."
The right side of his wise, beautiful face begins to suggest a smile. Almost imperceptibly he raises his eyebrows, a mix of gray and brown, and smiles at his own personal secret.
"You will."
I look back at him and meet his eyes.
"I just remembered." I stop and face him. "That music. The music you were just playing." I point to the table where the stereo sits. "She told me it was composed by someone she knew very well."
He shakes his head and turns away.
"She said he was someone special, the composer, that she knew him. Do you remember now?"
"No."
But he says it too quickly. I see a flash, a room in a white stone house, a party, and a piano. A young man playing with many people listening and watching. My grandmother is looking into his remarkable green eyes, and my grandfather is looking at her.
"Actually, I might vaguely remember something, but it was such a long time ago."
"When we were on the roof together one night, Papa, she said it was the kind of thing that could make you fall in love or break your heart. I always wanted to ask her what she meant. She meant the music, right?"
"Yes, of course. The music." He looks at me for a few seconds then turns back to his reading.
As I walk slowly out of the library, I hear him behind me mutter something under his breath. It's my words "someone special," a strange irony in his voice. More than that, I feel his eyes on me, sealing the fate he seems to know awaits.
A mixture of joy and apprehension.
----
12
----
I RUN TO FIND a seat among the many students waiting for the assembly to begin. Excitement, uncertainty, and reverence for the campus fill the great open plaza of the university. We are all taking our place along a wavelike continuum that will create the history of our culture. Humbled by the traditions we were taking on, we have come from colleges all over the world. In this moment are all those who have come before and their accomplishments. I feel the endless possibility and promise that the opportunity holds. This is what fuels the burning desire in every one of us to make our mark and be different, add something new.
The dean of the Graduate School of Architecture takes his place at the podium and looks out at the expectant students.
"Welcome. You have come here to search. To begin a lifelong journey of clarification, the challenge of what your lives will mean
Lisa Black
Margaret Duffy
Erin Bowman
Kate Christensen
Steve Kluger
Jake Bible
Jan Irving
G.L. Snodgrass
Chris Taylor
Jax