Gaby hesitated outside the front door, catching her breath. The walk from the subway had been mostly uphill. She looked up and down the street, apprehensively. Was she too early? There did not seem to be more cars in front of this house than elsewhere. She thought about walking around the block a couple of times. But Professor Hill had said six thirty and it was almost seven o'clock. She cleared her throat and reached for the heavy brass knocker.
Professor Hill opened the door and smiled at her. "Gaby! I'm glad you could join us. Please come in." He wore a tuxedo. With his ruddy skin, silver hair and white eyebrows, he looked like an Old West hero, dressed to receive an Academy Award.
"Most of the guests have not yet arrived. Let me take your coat, dear. Would you like a tour?"
"Oh, yes, please," she gushed, "I'd love to see your home, sir." Inwardly, she cringed. She had called him sir!
"Please, Gaby, call me Alfred. Or Fred. We've gone past the student-teacher relationship, haven't we? And after all, you're not a child like your classmates. We should be able to speak to each other as adults, no?"
Gaby relaxed. He was right. She was in her first year at the university, but had enroled as a mature student. Why, at forty, she was less than a decade younger than Professor Hill.
Alfred, she thought. The name suited him. Alfred Hill taught an art history class that Gaby was taking. She had found him impressive from his first lecture and during the mid-lecture break, while her classmates rushed outside to smoke cigarettes and discuss beer bashes and dorm life, Gaby had timidly approached the professor and started a conversation. Now, several weeks into the semester, they had established a routine of walking to the cafeteria to get a coffee and, last week, he had surprised her by suggesting she attend a dinner party at his home. He had said something about celebrating his birthday.
He gently placed her coat on a hanger and hung it in a closet. Just then they were joined in the entrance by a striking young woman. Tall and slim, she had short black hair and wore a black dress that looked like it must have cost what would be a month's salary for Gaby. Elegant heels and sheer stockings completed the ensemble.
"This is Gaby," said Alfred, "She is taking my Wednesday night art history class. Gaby, I'd like you to meet Lacey Greene."
"Welcome to our home, Gaby," said Lacey, "May I show you around?" Gaby's nervousness had returned. It seemed that Lacey must be Alfred's living companion. But she was so young!
"I have already arranged for the grand tour." said Alfred. He took Gaby's arm and walked her through the living room. Some of the guests were there already, and their elegant clothing made Gaby feel relieved that she had worn her best. Alfred introduced Gaby to several people, then led her into the dining room. The food was already laid out, buffet style. He talked about the sculptures and paintings he collected, some of which were on display. Gaby was somewhat overwhelmed by all she saw, but by the time they had moved upstairs she began to feel at ease again.
The last room in Alfred's tour was a small bedroom. There was an oblong table with a sewing machine on it. A small bed was made to look more like a couch, with a long fringe and many large cushions. A rolltop desk stood by the door. "Lacey has been using this room for her sewing," said Alfred, "But we've decided to convert it into a study for me. I might even use this desk, though it is rather small."
Gaby tried to picture Alfred correcting papers in the room. He would need a comfortable armchair, of course. In her imagination, he was smoking a pipe. She knew he did not smoke, so she made bubbles come out of the pipe. That was no good either, of course. She made the pipe disappear.
Alfred looked at her with a curious expression. She realized her mind had been wandering. It must be her turn to say something, but what? "Happy birthday," she said. She handed him the present.
He was flustered. "Oh, yes, I mentioned to you that it was my birthday. I didn't expect a gift. But, thank you."
She fidgeted. She had been sure that a gift was not necessary, but she wanted to give him something. This had presented a problem, as she did not have enough money for an appropriate present. The solution had come to her at work, just a few hours ago. Gaby worked at an Italian furniture shop, in the north end of town. Her job was to arrange the floor displays, so that they looked like real bedrooms and living rooms. Her office at work was a storeroom full of ornaments, hardcover books and artificial flowers, that could be placed on shelves and coffee tables to make them look as if someone really used them. The bell had been among these props for years, and she had never really noticed it, but today she had picked it up and, seeing that it was of good quality and in perfect condition, decided that it was an appropriate present.
She was not in the habit of stealing things from work, not even such little things as pens and pencils. Mr. Capelli, the owner of the store, would certainly fire her if he found out. But she decided there was no risk, and she promised herself that this would be the last time she would do such a thing.
The bell lay in a cream-colored cardboard box, wrapped with metallic red paper. It was packed with brown waxy paper that had been crumpled and shaped to protect it from harm. Made of porcelain, the bell was white and had two oval patches of the lightest baby blue, one on each side. Within these patches, ribbons of a darker blue coiled and looped in a meaningless script. Inside, the ringer was also porcelain and hung by a copper wire. More of the brown paper held it away from the sides of the bell, to prevent the gift from betraying its nature by ringing too soon.
Alfred removed the red paper and opened the box. "Thank you very much, Gaby," he said, holding up the bell, "This is lovely." He removed the paper from the inside, then gently rang the bell. "You know, what I think I would like to do with this is to keep it in my study." He placed the bell on top of the desk. "There. It will be safe there." As they left the room, Gaby wondered if he would ever notice the bell again, lost as it would be in this house full of beautiful things. She felt silly for giving it to him, but felt happy as well, proud of herself for having been brave enough to do it.
Downstairs, Alfred made Gaby a drink, then she left him in the dining room. She did not want to seem to be clinging to him. She found a seat in the living room and spoke briefly with a young assistant professor she recognized from school. Everyone else was a stranger to her, and she felt rather shy. She took frequent sips from her drink, to give herself something to do, and soon began to feel lightheaded. She was thinking about how soon she could decently leave when she heard a familiar voice.
"Well, well, Gabriella! What a surprise to see you here!"
Shocked, she turned to see her boss standing above her. "Mr. Capelli," she stammered, "What are you doing here?"
"Yes, thank you Gabriella, it's nice to see you too," he laughed, "and you look quite lovely in that outfit." He was leaning over her, looking down the front of her dress.
Fortunately, someone who knew Mr. Capelli came along and engaged him in conversation. Gaby slipped away as soon as he was distracted. By then, an awful thought had occured to her. What if Mr. Capelli saw the bell? He would surely recognize it immediately. She remembered now that it was featured on at least a dozen pages in their catalog, and Mr. Capelli always insisted on personally approving every photograph that was in there.
Later, while most of the guests were eating, Gaby positioned herself near the staircase and scanned the dining and living rooms. There was Alfred, placing a salad bowl on the table. She slipped up the stairs.
On the upstairs landing, she was surprised in the hallway when the bathroom door opened and two women emerged. They smiled at her and, not wanting to be seen lurking in the hallway, she went into the bathroom and shut the door. She pressed her ear against the door, waiting for the women to go down the stairs. Drat! She could hear nothing. To be safe, she stayed in there for a few minutes, then quietly opened the door and peeped out. The coast was clear.
As she walked to the sewing room, she decided not to take the bell back to the store, but to just hide it in the desk drawer, so that Mr. Capelli would not see it. This would only take a few seconds. She quietly twisted the handle all the way to the right, and silently swung open the door.
"Gaby! What are you doing?" It was Alfred. He emerged from the master bedroom and approached her, "Did you change your mind about giving me the present?" He was joking. But then his smile disappeared as he looked past her into the sewing room. She swung around.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, their arms wrapped around each other, were Lacey and Mr. Capelli. They turned their heads to face Gaby and Alfred, and their facial expressions underwent a sudden change. Lacey flushed and a look of chagrin swept across her face. Mr. Capelli smiled. He seemed to find the situation amusing, almost as if he was proud to have been caught in this way.
Gaby stood helplessly by as Alfred and Lacey began a heated argument. Accusations flew. Mr. Capelli's laughter did not help matters. Gaby glanced nervously at the bell, but could not risk drawing attention to it. She left it where it was and fled from the room.
Riding home on the subway, Gaby felt waves of conflicting emotions. She was afraid that Mr. Capelli would find out about the bell. She felt guilty about Alfred's hurt feelings, and about her role in his unpleasant discovery. She was angry with Lacey for the way she had treated Alfred.
The next day, Mr. Capelli came in to the showroom and, in a low voice, informed Gaby that her services were no longer required. He had a large bruise on his cheek. He said nothing about the stolen bell, and if that had been his reason for firing her, she would have expected him to come right out and say so. Discretion was not Mr. Capelli's strength, she thought. She decided instead that he must be embarassed about the bruise, and to him that would be reason enough to fire her.
The next Wednesday, Alfred apologized to Gaby for the scene in the sewing room. When she told him about losing her job he was shocked, and within a week had arranged a job for her, in the graduate periodicals room. She met him for lunch a couple of times, and was a good listener as he talked sadly about his breakup with Lacey.