Chapter 34

Dusk was falling as Lauren pulled into the parking lot of Millvale’s small hospital, pulling in beside the abbey’s old station wagon. She sat, her hands clenching the steering wheel, flooded with memories of the last time she’d been here, after Mother Theodora’s fall, when Mickey had had to perform emergency surgery. That was when I knew I’d fallen completely in love with her.

It felt a bit surreal to be back, and for a moment, it seemed Mickey might be waiting to greet her.

“Don’t be stupid.”

Lauren got out and strode to the entrance. Inside, the woman at the information desk must have been expecting her, because she immediately asked, “You’re here for the Reverend Mother?”

“Yes.”

“Down that hall, room 113.”

“Thank you.”

When Lauren heard lowered voices from inside the room, where the door was half-closed, she knocked tentatively. The door opened wider, and Sister Isadore greeted her.

“Thank you for coming.”

“Of course. I said I’d do anything.”

Lauren stepped into the room to find another nun sitting beside Mother Theodora’s bed. “Sister Paula.”

She greeted her former co-worker from the vestment room with a tight hug. “What are you—”

“I’m prioress now,” Sister Paula said with a glance in Mother’s direction.

Lauren reached for Mother Theodora’s hand and kissed her on the cheek, noticing how wan she looked as she lay with the head of the bed elevated. “How are you?”

“Better than they would have you believe,” Mother said drolly. “I’m heartily embarrassed at all the fuss.”

“Don’t listen to her,” Sister Isadore said. “The scans all came back negative, thank the Lord, but Dr. Allenby said she is completely exhausted, anemic, and generally run-down.”

Mother gave a dismissive wave of her hand, but Sister Paula shook her head.

“Don’t even try,” she said sternly. “You have been temporarily relieved of duty.”

“She received an infusion for the anemia, but he said she needs an extended rest,” Sister Isadore said. “And she won’t get that at St. Bridget’s.”

“We came here this evening with a proposal for our Mother,” Sister Paula said, reaching up to adjust her wire-rimmed glasses. “One which we hope she’ll consider.”

“She is right here,” Mother reminded them sarcastically.

“What’s the proposal?” Lauren asked, hiding a smile. “I’ll happily drive her to St. Anne’s,” she added, thinking of the community where she herself had gone on a retreat when she was trying to decide whether to leave St. Bridget’s.

“No.” Mother Theodora’s reply was firm. “I will not slink away to another convent.”

Sister Isadore gave Lauren a droll smile. “You can see what we’re dealing with. So, we think we’ve arrived at a compromise.”

“What’s the compromise?” Lauren asked, her mind spinning.

“Would you be willing to let Mother come home with you?” Sister Isadore asked.

Lauren’s mouth gaped for a few seconds, and Mother Theodora said, “I told you, it’s too much of an imposition.”

“No,” Lauren said hastily. “It’s not an imposition at all. I’d love to have you. I’ve more than enough room. You’ll have all the quiet you need. Plenty of room to walk and get some fresh air. You will have to put up with a demanding cat, though.”

“See?” Sister Paula threw a hand up. “We told you it wouldn’t be a problem.”

Mother Theodora gave Lauren a hard stare. “You give me your word it’s not putting you out?”

Lauren smiled and reached for her hand. “How many times have you told me I’m too direct and lacking in tact? You know me well enough to know I will always tell you the truth. I would be honored to share my home with you.”

She turned to Sister Paula. “What will you tell the community?”

Sister Paula frowned. “I don’t want to lie,” she said carefully. “But I’m afraid if they know Mother is this close, but not at the abbey, it will cause more alarm.”

“I think,” said Sister Isadore, “we can truthfully say that Mother needs a period of rehabilitation to rebuild her strength.”

“That works,” Lauren agreed. “When will you be discharged?”

“Now.” Mother Theodora started to tug off the covers.

“Whoa!” Sister Paula said.

“I will not stay in this hospital another night,” Mother Theodora said. “There is nothing wrong with me.”

Sister Paula turned to Lauren with a frazzled sigh. “I think Dr. Allenby is still here. Will you ask one of the nurses to page him?”

“Of course.” Lauren started toward the door but stopped and glanced back at Mother Theodora. “Then I’ll bring the get-away car to the door.”

From long habit, Mother Theodora woke at her accustomed time of four-thirty, but lay for a moment, trying to remember where she was. Oh, yes. Lauren’s home. What glorious quiet here. The hospital, for all the kindness of the staff there, was the least restful place she had ever been—with its harsh lights and constant noise.

She started to get up, but the thought of the energy required to get into her habit was more than she could muster. She said her morning prayers in bed and drifted off to sleep again.

It was fully daylight when she woke again. This time, she did force herself to rise. She went down the hall to the bathroom, where her eyes were drawn to the face in the mirror. She’d avoided looking into the mirror over the hospital sink, but now, she studied her reflection with something of a shock. I do look horrible. No wonder they worried. Sunken eyes with dark circles, jowls framing her mouth, permanent frown lines between her brows. But still… hints of what she’d seen of Josie in that photo—the sharp dark eyes, that slight cleft in the chin they’d inherited from their mother. She gave an impatient shake of her head and got dressed.

Downstairs, she found Lauren already up, coffee made.

“Good morning.” Lauren jumped up from the kitchen table, where she was reading the paper.

“Good morning, Lauren.” Mother stood there uncertainly. It felt so odd to be in someone’s house where she wasn’t certain of the routine or the expectations.

“Sit down.” Lauren went to the counter where she had a second mug waiting. “If I recall, you take just cream.”

“Good memory. Thank you.” Mother lowered herself into a chair, surprised at how tired she was just from the small amount of activity it had taken to get dressed and come down the stairs.

Lauren joined her at the table and placed a steaming mug before her. “How did you sleep?”

“Very well. That bed is almost sinfully soft.”

Lauren laughed. “How about breakfast? Are you hungry?”

“Not really, but I suppose I should eat.”

“From what I heard, you haven’t been eating nearly enough lately.”

Mother made an impatient noise, and Lauren nodded sympathetically.

“I remember how hard it is to make yourself eat when…” She rose. “How about one scrambled egg and a piece of toast? I think several small meals will be easier to take.”

“Thank you.” Mother stood, too. “Please let me do something.”

“Okay.” She pointed. “The bread’s in that drawer below the toaster. Put two slices in, if you would.”

At the sounds of food being prepared, Kyrie came trotting in, meowing loudly to wind around Lauren’s ankles. She came over to sniff curiously at the skirt of Mother’s habit.

Mother bent down to stroke the sleek coat. “She’s very pretty.”

“And she knows it,” Lauren said drily.

By the time Mother had the bread toasted and buttered, Lauren was finishing with the eggs. They sat back down with refills on their coffee, and Mother was surprised to find she was hungry. The food tasted wonderful.

“I think you’re right,” Mother said, sitting back with her coffee. “A few small meals will be more tolerable.”

Lauren placed the plates in the sink to soak and returned to the table. “I’m glad you agreed to this. I think the community has been truly worried about you.”

“I know they have.” Mother lowered her eyes. “How did you know to look for my sister and…?” She couldn’t bring herself to say Jacqueline’s name.

“Sister Isadore.”

“Ah.” Mother nodded. “She probably knows me better than anyone. She always saw everything, more than I realized.”

“When…” Lauren hesitated. “When I left you, with the envelope, I alerted her that I had done so. She was the first to your office, the first to find you. Everything is safe.”

Mother closed her eyes in relief. “Thank you.”

A heavy silence settled between them. “Can you tell me,” Mother said uncertainly, “how you found them?”

“Gail and her father. I don’t have a computer or internet here. I almost asked Jennifer, but when I mentioned it to Gail, she told me her father has an intense interest in genealogy, and he has several ways of tracking people down.”

Lauren rose and left the kitchen, reappearing a minute later with a folder. “I kept copies of everything I gave you. Plus, there are a few other things we found. Take as much time as you like. I’ll be in the other room.”

She laid a gentle hand on Mother’s shoulder and left her.

Feeling more prepared this time, Mother Theodora opened the folder into her past.

Lauren closed her book when Mother joined her in the living room over an hour later, taking the other chair near the fireplace. “Are you all right?”

“I am,” Mother said, feeling weary again. “I just never expected… after all this time, to see them again. To know what happened.”

Kyrie stretched from where she’d been curled up on the sofa and hopped down, coming to paw gently against Mother’s leg. Mother patted her lap, and Kyrie accepted the invitation, jumping up to settle, purring loudly.

“You probably guessed that Jacqueline was special to me.” When Lauren merely waited without speaking, Mother continued, “I don’t know if Mickey ever told you, but I had confided to her—the only person I ever told—that there had been someone.”

She looked at Lauren to find those hazel eyes watching her. “You had already left the abbey, and Mickey was struggling to find her path when her rehab was ending. I would never have pushed either of you in either direction, but it made my heart happy when you were finally together.”

“What happened?” Lauren asked softly.

“I fell in love.” Mother focused on the cat. “It sounds so simple to say. Now. But it wasn’t then. She was…” She paused. “Jacqueline was everything to me. No.” She shook her head. “She was nearly everything. But that was the problem. For me, there was still this. This damned call to religious life. She begged me to leave, to make a life together with her. And I wanted to.”

Still, Lauren listened, not interrupting, and Mother had a sudden sense that she was on the receiving end of one of Lauren’s retreat sessions.

“I struggled for a long time.” She stared into the empty fireplace, lost in memories for a few moments. “I guess I had a similar spell to this one, because I ended up in the infirmary for a few days. When I got back to my cell, someone had left a small card on my bed. Isaiah 43:1.”

“You are mine.”

Mother swallowed past the sudden lump in her throat. “I’ve never known who left it, but it felt like God used whoever it was to speak directly to me.”

“So you stayed,” Lauren murmured. “And she went.”

Mother nodded. “I never knew what happened to her. Until now. Thank you for that.”

Before that first day was done, Lauren realized the flaw in their plan. She left a note and slipped away from the house while Mother Theodora took a nap that afternoon, returning with two multi-packs of underwear and socks, a couple of loose tunics, and two pair of flowing linen slacks with elastic waist and drawstring.

“I could have dug out some of Mickey’s sweatpants and sweatshirts for you, but it’s getting a little warm for those.”

“I couldn’t,” Mother protested. “And you shouldn’t have.”

“Well, unless you want to stay in a bathrobe while your habit is being laundered,” Lauren pointed out, “we need alternatives, even if you only wear them for a few hours.”

She held up a pale blue scarf. “You can use this as a veil.” She dug into a different bag. “And I got you an inexpensive pair of reading glasses. I hope they’re enough for now.”

Despite Mother Theodora’s initial protests, after the first day of wearing the new clothes while her habit was in the wash, she opted to stay in them. She insisted on helping with meals, and even baked some fresh bread for them.

“I may never let you return to the abbey if you keep this up,” Lauren commented as she buttered another slice.

Lauren showed her what she was working on out in the garage, and even spent a few hours out there to give Mother some solitude. Mother read, took naps, walked up to the gazebo to pray and think. Sometimes Lauren accompanied her, but Kyrie had become Mother’s shadow, following her up the hill, curling up with her while she read.

Lauren relaxed a little as Mother’s face lost its gaunt appearance. Her cheeks got some color in them, and her eyes didn’t seem to be so deep-set once the shadows were gone.

In the evenings, they read or simply sat watching the fire that Lauren lit on the cooler nights.

“You do have a beautiful home here, Lauren.”

“I know. Mickey thought of everything. I’m very lucky.”

“I’m in the way,” Mother said. “You haven’t spoken to Gail since I got here.”

“We often go days without calling, and you are not in the way. Did Sister Paula call today?”

“Yes,” Mother said. “I know she waited a couple of days to give me time, but she’s been calling every day now, just to make sure I’m doing well and to reassure me the abbey hasn’t fallen down without me.”

She absently played with Kyrie’s soft ear. “I’ve been thinking.”

“Yes?”

“I’ll never have another chance to—” She paused. “This time is a gift, as you are. I hate to impose further, but… could we take a trip?”

“A… where to?”

“You said Jacqueline is buried in Waddington?”

“Yes. She taught at the high school in Canton, but lived in Waddington. You want to go there?”

Mother nodded, her eyes bright. “And to see my sister and her husband. I want to see their inn, all that they’ve built.”

“Of course we can do that. Would you mind if I called Gail, asked her to come along? Her father has considered this quest to be something of a personal challenge. He may have dug up more information by now.”

“I don’t mind at all. I know Gail will be discreet.”

Lauren stood, but Mother reached for her hand. “Thank you.”

“You’re more than welcome.” Lauren squeezed her hand and went to the kitchen. Picking up the phone, she dialed Gail’s number.

“Hey,” she said when Gail answered. “I’ve got some news to share and a big favor to ask.”