In This Small Spot (14 page)

“When it becomes exclusive,” Mickey
volunteered. “When you don’t want anyone else around while you’re
with someone, warning bells should go off.” She deliberately
avoided looking at Abigail or Wendy, but Abigail suddenly got up
and left the room.

Two days later, word spread through the
abbey that two of the novices had opted to leave. All that was said
formally was that they had realized their vocations did not fit
with life at St. Bridget’s, but Mickey suspected there was a lot of
private speculation as to why these two novices decided to leave at
the same time.

There was almost a collective sigh of
relief, though, among the other novices. The others may not have
known why exactly, but Wendy and Abigail had been generating a
tremendous undercurrent of tension. With the two of them gone,
“it’s so much easier to talk now,” Sister Miranda observed
innocently.

Mickey hadn’t really known how much Sister
Josephine had seen or noticed until one day about a week after
Wendy and Abigail had left. Mickey was the last one to leave the
classroom when Sister Josephine said casually, “There’s been an
enormous change in the dynamics of this group recently. I can’t
help but wonder if Wendy and Abigail had help in making their
decision?”

Mickey looked into Sister Josephine’s green
eyes. With the tiniest hint of a smile, she answered, “Good
question.”

Chapter 17

Snow was falling in sparse flakes from a
leaden Christmas Eve sky as Mickey and Alice drove from their house
in Baltimore to spend Christmas with Alice’s family in central
Virginia. Holiday music played on the car stereo, and Alice’s hand
rested on Mickey’s thigh as Mickey drove. Near Warrenton, they
passed an intersection of two rural highways with a flea-market
site on one corner. During nice weather, this flea-market was very
busy, filled with buyers and sellers exchanging money and re-cycled
treasures. Today it was deserted except for one woman with her
for-sale items set up on one of the tables. She had no coat, just
an old men’s sweater wrapped tightly around her.

Mickey looked questioningly over at Alice
who smiled and nodded. Mickey quickly turned into the flea-market
and parked near the woman’s stand. There was an old station wagon
parked there also, with three children inside who pressed their
faces against the window to watch. Mickey and Alice got out,
zipping their jackets against the penetrating cold.

“Hi,” Mickey said, smiling.

“Hello,” the woman answered, looking at them
hopefully. She was thin, and as Mickey got closer, she saw that the
woman was probably only in her thirties, although she had initially
seemed much older. Spread out on the table before her was an
assortment of kitchen pans and utensils, Tupperware containers and
knickknacks. All of them were clean, but clearly well-used.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” Mickey chattered.
“We really need a few more gifts for a niece who is moving to her
own apartment, and we were sure we wouldn’t find any stores open.
She could use a lot of what you have here.” She picked through the
items, taking some of the most worn things, and asked, “How much
for these?”

The woman looked at the pots and utensils
Mickey had picked up, and said, “Fifteen dollars?”

“Oh,” Mickey said, frowning. “I’m sure
that’s a fair price, but…” she reached into her jeans pocket, “all
I can afford is ten.” She looked up at the woman. “Would you
consider a trade? Ten and my jacket? It’s old, but it’s still in
pretty good shape.”

“I don’t know,” the woman replied, looking
out at the highway where the few cars passing sped by, showing no
sign the drivers even noticed her.

“Please?” Mickey pressed. “I can’t afford to
give my niece new stuff, and she really could use these
things.”

The woman looked back at the car where the
children were still watching everything. “All right,” she said
finally.

“Oh, thank you so much,” Mickey smiled,
taking off her jacket and handing it and the ten dollars to the
woman.

“Merry Christmas,” Alice said as they
gathered up their purchases and took them to their SUV.

Waiting until they were back on the road,
Alice asked, “How much was in the jacket?”

Mickey smiled sheepishly. “I’m not sure. Two
or three hundred.” Pointing to the back of the vehicle, she said,
“I’m not sure what to do with the things we bought.”

Alice smiled back. “I’m sure the women’s
shelter can use them for someone who actually is setting up a new
apartment.” She reached out and took Mickey’s hand in hers. “I love
you so much.”

“Why?” Mickey asked, smiling over at her
tenderly.

“Because you’re you.”

Chapter 18

The heat soared into the nineties, unusual
for this region of New York. The stone architecture of the abbey
kept it cool for the most part. A few areas within the abbey had
been updated with the luxury of air conditioning: the kitchen, the
laundry, the library and the vestment room. Mickey still hadn’t
figured out how most of the older nuns managed to look perfectly
comfortable in the habit when she was sweating ceaselessly, and she
was very grateful she was still assigned to the laundry.

Fortunately, the last hay cutting had been
baled and stored in the barn before the heat hit. Those nuns who
did opt to go outdoors during Recreation tended to stay in the deep
shade of the enclosure’s stone walkways and trees, only a few
intrepid souls venturing out to water and tend the poor plants
which were suffering in the heat. Mickey stepped outside, the heat
hitting her like a wall. There, on the bench under the cherry tree,
sat Sister Linus.

“You don’t need to bring the meal trays
anymore,” Sister Cecilia had said to Mickey the day after Father
Andrew’s talk with Mother. “I was told that he will be eating here
in the refectory with us from now on.”

He was accompanied by another monk, an
elderly man introduced to the community as Father Raymond, “who
will be using our library in his research for a book he is
writing,” they were told.

The nuns didn’t gossip, but there was still
a kind of telepathy vibrating through the community that told them
something had been amiss, even if they didn’t know the details.
“Small ripples get noticed in a small pond,” Mickey wrote to Jamie
as she confided her guilt at being the one to bring the chaplain’s
house of cards crashing down. “And speaking of houses,” she added,
“the postulants are now tasked with cleaning his house weekly. I’m
guessing that’s so there is no more hiding bottles.”

“What does this mean for Sister Linus?”
Mickey had asked even more guiltily, but no one would answer that
question.

“That is not an appropriate question for a
junior to ask,” she was told by Sister Josephine, who added more
gently, “She has been in religious life longer than we have been
alive. She will understand.”

Since then, Mickey had hoped for an
opportunity to speak with her, but “how can she disappear in a
community of only seventy-five women?” Mickey asked in frustration
when day after day went by with no sign of her.

Now, spying her under the tree, Mickey
debated whether to go to her. Screwing up her courage, she sat down
next to Sister Linus.

There was only silence for long minutes.

“Brrr,” Mickey said, shivering. “I might
have to step back out into the sun to warm up.”

Sister Linus turned away.

“I hope you’ll forgive me,” Mickey said
sincerely. “I felt like I was lying to Mother, and I just couldn’t
do it any longer.”

Sister Linus remained silent for several
seconds, then said, “I should be asking your forgiveness, Sister.
I… I became so prideful of the secrets I knew, things only I knew,
that I lost sight of my duty to my Abbess. That is the danger of
secrets. They become power, and I… I liked it,” she admitted
softly.

“What are you doing now?” Mickey asked.

Sister Linus barked a bitter laugh. “I have
been retired.”

“Really?” Mickey asked in surprise. “You
weren’t offered another duty?”

“I was offered the laundry,” Sister Linus
sniffed dismissively.

“Oh,” Mickey nodded. “I’m working in the
laundry.” She looked around at the garden. “But I can see how
demeaning that would be after taking care of the abbey’s
chaplains.”

Sister Linus opened her mouth to retort, and
then closed it. “Mother Felicita warned me that pride would always
be my downfall,” she said contritely. “The faults that enter with
you never truly go away. Excuse me. I must go speak with
Mother.”

The next day, as Mickey arrived in the
laundry, she smiled to see Sister Linus already there, folding some
sheets. “Would you like me to take the other end, Sister?”

After that, Sister Linus was in the laundry
every day, cheerfully waiting for Mickey. “How does she have so
much energy in her nineties?” Tanya asked with a shake of her head
as Sister Linus stuffed numbered bins with folded piles of
laundry.

It was here, folding a large pile of linens
with Sister Linus, that Sister Lucille found Mickey one morning.
“Sister Michele? You have a visitor.”

“I’m not expecting anyone,” Mickey said in
surprise. “Do you know who it is?”

“She said she was your little sister,”
Sister Lucille smiled.

Puzzled, Mickey followed Sister Lucille to
the visitors’ parlours. Entering the one Sister Lucille indicated,
Mickey went white.

“Mickey? Is it okay that I came?”

Mickey had to sit before answering.
“Jennifer, I’m sorry. It’s just… for a second, it was like Alice
was standing there.”

Thirteen years Alice’s junior, Jennifer was
the youngest of Alice’s seven siblings. “I know. No one can tell
our pictures apart,” she said with a resigned sigh. “I’m not even
sure Mom really knows the difference when she looks at old photos.”
She sat next to Mickey on the sofa. “I should have called or
written.”

“Don’t be silly,” Mickey insisted,
recovering enough to give Jennifer a hug. “You look wonderful!”

Jennifer looked Mickey up and down. “You
look… different,” she laughed.

Mickey grinned. “I’m sure I do. Fill me in
on what’s been going on with you and your family.”

“Well, I finished my Master’s in art history
this past May,” she beamed. “And I just got hired as the assistant
to the curator of textile art at the Mannheim in New York. Since I
was so close, I decided to come out and see you.” Jennifer caught
her up on all the family news. “I’m sorry I haven’t written more. I
was so busy in school.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” Mickey
assured her. “I remember what it was like in school.”

Jennifer looked deeply into Mickey’s eyes,
and took Mickey’s hand like she used to when she was younger. “I’ve
really missed you,” she said softly. “I feel like I’ve lost two
sisters.” Her eyes filled with tears.

“Shhhh,” Mickey whispered, putting an arm
around Jennifer’s shoulders.

“Nothing’s been the same since Alice died,”
Jennifer sniffed. “I don’t think I realized how much she held our
family together.”

Mickey sighed. “I sure came unglued without
her.”

Jennifer wiped her cheeks. “Is that why…
this?” she asked, plucking at Mickey’s sleeve.

Mickey laughed. “No. They don’t let you in
to have a breakdown. They’re not that desperate. I had to work
through the worst of it on my own before I felt I could ask to
enter. But it still catches me off-guard sometimes. I’ll see
something she loved and I’m flooded with memories. I can’t believe
how much I miss her.”

“I still don’t understand why you’re doing
this,” Jennifer insisted, and suddenly Mickey could clearly see her
as a stubborn ten-year-old.

Smiling, Mickey admitted, “I guess it does
seem like a strange choice. It’s actually something I almost did
right after high school, but I decided to try college first, and
then I met your sister, and…” She sighed again. “I felt so utterly
lost after she was gone. I buried myself in work for a while, but
it got to the point where I couldn’t stand going to the hospital. I
started coming up to my brother’s just to get away. I literally got
lost one day and found the abbey by accident.” Mickey smiled as she
pictured Mother saying, “Or perhaps not by accident.”

“It’s hard to explain, but it felt like I
was coming back to a place I used to know.”

Jennifer frowned. “But don’t you miss being
with someone?”

Mickey looked into those dark eyes so like
Alice’s. “Whether I was here or not, I don’t think I’d be with
anyone else.”

“Are you allowed to leave?” Jennifer asked,
looking at the windows as if she expected to see bars.

Mickey laughed again. “We choose not to,
except for the nuns who do the abbey’s shopping, or for doctor’s
appointments, things like that.” The bell for Sext began
ringing.

“Is it okay if I come out to see you
sometimes? Or do you not want reminders of your old life?” Jennifer
asked timidly.

Mickey placed her hands on Jennifer’s
shoulders. “You are family. Past, present and future. I would be
very disappointed and sad not to have you in my life. I’d love for
you to come out whenever you can.” She hesitated a second. “It
probably sounds corny, but I keep you and your family in my
prayers.”

“I don’t think it sounds corny at all,”
Jennifer said solemnly.

Mickey walked her to the door and hugged her
tightly. “Thank you so much for coming,” she murmured.

As she watched Jennifer drive away, Mickey
felt an awareness that life was not linear, but moved in
slow-moving circles, like an eddy in a stream, a current inexorably
pulling people back into her life.

╬ ╬ ╬

August 15 was the Feast of the Assumption,
one of the “Mary Feasts”, as Mickey used to call them. “Probably
the only reason I’m still Catholic,” she used to tease Christopher,
“is that they had the sense to keep Mary in a place of prominence
in all this Father, Son and Holy Maleness.” Christopher,
unperturbed, would nod and say, “You’re right. But I don’t think
the Creator really cares what gender we assign it. Calling it
Father just made it something we could understand, that’s all.”