Lovers in Enemy Territory (10 page)

He smiled, deeply impressed. “That’s a lofty ideal for one so young.”

“I don’t believe age has anything to do with it. Many of the sisters come to the convent at an early age, their lives already set on a certain path. It’s not remarkable.”

Jeffrey remembered that nuns didn’t take credit for the good they did. She had a difficult time accepting praise graciously. “Why did you become a nun?” The question was out. All day he’d wanted to ask her. Maybe he’d gone to far, but something had come over him. He wanted to know everything about her.

Catherine didn’t know if she should tell him anything more. The Holy Mother had been right! There was no precedent to follow. Yet the man seated across from her had asked a simple question in all sincerity. Was it wrong? She didn’t know.

“You don’t have to answer that,” Jeffrey said, noticing her perplexed look. “I’ve no right. Forgive me.”

“It’s all right. When my brother Paul died, I became quite despondent. It seemed such a waste. He was my dear friend. We were close like you and your brother. Paul had always wanted to become a priest. Even as a youngster, he wasn’t like the other boys. He had a more serious nature. Anyway, the priesthood was a dream for him and I was inconsolable, knowing it could never be a reality.”

“He must have loved you very much.”

“We were close. As the years went by, I found myself turning more and more to the Lord for comfort. One night the thought came to me that I could serve God in Paul’s place. That idea grew.”

Jeffrey listened, haunted by the depth of her religious zeal.

“Later, when my mother was ill, I told her of my desire. It shocked her deeply and she didn’t want me to do this. She did everything in her power to persuade me otherwise. I believe it was because she and my father had been so happy together. I suppose she wanted me to have that same fulfillment.”

“You can’t really blame her, can you?” he questioned.

“No, of course not. Because of her I went through a long period of self-analysis. Was I doing this to fulfill my brother’s dream, or was I committing myself to God for me. Do you understand what I mean?”

Jeffrey nodded. She had great wisdom and maturity for one so young. Again it baffled him.

“When mother died, I went to the convent to live and learned to love the spiritual life. That’s when I made the decision to stay. I’ve never regretted it,” she spoke with fervor. Jeffrey shifted position in the chair, completely engrossed.

"In my eighteenth year, I became a postulant, a period of testing. It’s a time when you learn about the life of an oblate to see if you’re ready to make vows to God, and to see if God wants you. During that year, I began to find joy in my service to the Lord, and when the time came for me to enter the novitiate, I did so willingly. After that year, the war broke out, and the children began to arrive. It was then I knew I’d chosen the right vocation.”

"Thank God you were there for Michael! I thank Him for you, Sister." They were both quiet for a long while. He reflected on their conversation. She was completely sincere and honest in everything she said. There was nothing artificial about her, a pearl beyond price. He couldn't take his eyes off her.

Forcing himself against his will, he stood up, and put the chess set away. "Good night. Thank you for indulging me in the chess game. Thank you for everything," his voice broke. "I’ll see you tomorrow.”

After he left the room, Catherine stood in the same spot for several minutes in turmoil. When she was with him, another dimension of life unfolded, and she had to admit that she enjoyed it. So much so in fact, she really hadn't wanted him to leave just now. He had many fine qualities and was exciting!

The times she recalled with her brothers had been different. The room seemed dim without his vital presence. She looked at Michael. Holy Mother of God-- even his father realized her attachment to the boy was not accepted by the rules of the sisterhood. Her love for him was obvious to all. She would have to go back to the convent as soon as Michael was able to leave the hospital. Everything was becoming much too complicated.

The next day Jeffrey came so the three of them could have breakfast together. He seemed to bring the sunshine with him. She immediately lowered her eyes, determined to keep from looking at him. The doctor said Michael could go for a ride in the wheel chair, just around the floor and back. Dr. Endicott felt that at the rate he was recovering, he'd be able to go home in another week.

It was marvelous news, but the good doctor was totally unaware of its impact on her. Catherine couldn't bear to think about leaving Michael, and Jeffrey simply refused to think.

That afternoon after a short nap, Michael had visitors. Philip and Elinore had come to spend some time with their nephew. It was the opportunity Catherine needed to be relieved from responsibilities. But it was their presence, Michael's and his father's, from whom she needed a vacation. They'd been together constantly. Catherine planned to go for a walk in the fresh air. There would be time for meditation in new surroundings.

"Sister?" Jeffrey called to her in the hall. He’d just stepped out of Michael's room, afraid she'd already left.

She turned in his direction. "Yes?"

"I thought that since Phil and Elinore are here to be with Michael for a while, I'd drive you over to Shepherd's Cross where there’s a cathedral. After our conversation last night, I realize how much you must miss your life at Our Lord of the Lamb. I have to go over there on a personal matter anyway."

He was always so considerate, she mused. How did he know she wanted to go to church right now? To surround herself with the religious life, if only for a while. "Thank you. If you're sure it won't put you out."

Jeffrey shook his head, as if what she'd said was absurd. "I want to. One of the fellows of an old crew was shot down last week. His wife lives right around the corner from the church. I would like to look in on her and the children. See if there’s anything I can do."

Her face sobered. Death was everywhere, yet again she was touched with his compassion for others, his decency. She followed him outside the hos-

pital and they were off. She felt self-conscious in the front seat with him and kept her face straight ahead, clasping her hands rigidly in her lap.

Jeffrey stole a look at the woman seated so demurely beside him. The haunting profile just barely appeared from the edge of her wimple. Her nose turned up a bit, and the curve of her cheek was noticeable. He needed to stop admiring her and fastened his attention on the road once more.

The sun had made an appearance earlier in the day, but now dark clouds had gathered overhead and drops of rain were pelting the windshield before they arrived at Shepherd's Cross. When he finally pulled up in front of the cathedral, a solid sheet of rain fell from an angry sky. She felt his eyes on her. It was disturbing. Even if she were drenched by the time she entered the cathedral, she couldn't bear his nearness any longer. "Thank you for bringing me here, Commander Norwood."

"You're entirely welcome, but I think we should wait a few minutes before going inside. You'll be soaked to the skin if you go now." He was enjoying sitting with her. Heavens what was happening to him?

"I don't mind the rain," she blurted and opened the car door. Jeffrey was at her side in an instant and together they dashed up the steps of the cathedral, dodging pools of water on their way to the foyer inside the massive doors. Catherine shook out her skirt and turned to him. "I'll be ready when you return from your visit."

He didn't move. His eyes searched hers with an intensity she'd never felt before. "I'd like to stay with you, if you don't mind," he whispered. His tone was solemn. "I haven't thanked the Lord properly."

After a pause, she nodded and side by side they entered the gothic interior. No one was about and their footsteps reverberated in the huge nave. This was her domain, her sanctuary of refuge, but this time a man was at her side. It was a very strange feeling.

Jeffrey knelt and made the sign of the cross at the first pew. Catherine studied the tall, dashing figure which had retreated from her momentarily. His head was bowed in prayer. She'd always thought it a lovely sight to see the sisters at prayer, but as she continued to gaze at Jeffrey, she realized there was nothing more beautiful than a man subjecting himself to God, kneeling in reverence before the Lord.

Michael's father was one of God's finest creations. Suddenly she felt overcome with a strong emotion, an intense feeling of admiration, even affection for him. He sensed her eyes on him, and like a magnet, they drew his gaze. A feeling of love for her all but consumed him as they looked at each other. Perhaps she belonged to God's kingdom, but she’d touched his life and it could never be the same again.

Catherine finally found the strength to continue down the aisle where she knelt before the shrine of the Virgin and focused all her attention on the Mother of God. She closed her eyes, making the sign of the cross, but she couldn’t concentrate. She tried to pray, but she kept seeing Commander Norwood's eyes and captivating smile. She tried to block him from her mind, but the more she tried, the more she felt his presence.

She couldn’t forget he was there with her. It began to haunt her. She could find no peace before the sacred altar and finally came to the conclusion that worship and communion here were impossible. He was coming between her and God. It wasn't his fault. He'd brought her here as a kindness, yet her feelings were anything but tranquil. Never in her life had she ever found it impossible to put herself in total communion.

A half hour passed and she rose to leave. As she walked down the aisle, she noticed he was no longer there. He’d probably gone out to the car to leave her alone. He always knew the right thing to do. She hurried out to the car and Jeffrey helped her inside.

"Betty's house is right around the next corner. It won't take long." She nodded but said nothing. She couldn't speak right now. They pulled up in front of a row house which looked like all the other houses in the village, their exteriors of dull red brick. Jeffrey climbed out of the car once more and came around to her side. She didn't understand when he opened the door for her.

"I can stay here, Commander."

"Sister," his voice pleaded, "would you come in with me, please? This is difficult for me to do alone. I need you at my side."

Hesitantly she got out of the car and walked up to the door with him. He knocked and pulled the collar of his dark coat up around his ears to keep out the rain which was still coming down, though not as heavily as before. The door opened. The wife's face was a picture of misery. She recognized Jeffrey and threw her arms around his neck.

"Jeff," she sobbed against his chest. "Andy's gone," the forlorn voice cried out. He comforted her for several minutes. Finally the woman raised her head and looked at Catherine. "I'm sorry, Sister. Please forgive me. Won't you both come in?"

They stepped inside the humble house which looked as if it needed a thorough cleaning. "I haven't been up to keeping things the way I usually do. You'll have to forgive the way the house looks," she apologized. "Just a minute. I have to check on little Andy.” She hurried to a back room.

They looked at each other. Here was the real tragedy of the war, an awful reminder of what life was really all about

"Come on, Andy," the mother coaxed a two year-old into the room. "Come and see Commander Norwood. Come on, that's a love.” She picked him up. The child had bright red hair like a copper penny and ruddy cheeks. Their roundness half hid the large eyes. Catherine smiled and reached for him. "May I?" she asked.

"By all means. Please do. There Andy, go to Sister.” The boy hesitantly went into her arms. He pulled his head away from her face and stared, examining everything.

"I guess I'm something of a curiosity, aren't I, Andy?" Catherine laughed and cuddled him. After a moment, when she no longer seemed suspect, the child showed her a block he held tightly in his fist. There were more on the floor. She bent down and put the boy next to them. "Shall we build something?" she asked and did it with him.

"Sister, you have a way," the mother sighed the words. Yes, Jeffrey thought as he watched the two of them. She had a way.

"Come on, Jeff. Sit down and tell me about Michael."

"Betty," he put a hand on her shoulder. "I'm sorry. Andy was the best. I wish I knew the words to say to you right now."

"You've been through it yourself, Jeff. There isn't anything anyone can say. You just have to go on."

"How well I know. Is there anything I can do for you? Please name it. Andy and I always looked out for each other."

"Nothing, Jeff. Just be my friend."

"Do you have enough money?"

"Does anyone? Oh, I'm all right. I have a job at the factory. It's enough, and Roger has a job after school. It all helps." She sniffed again. "Is Michael better?"

"He's coming along splendidly." His eyes wandered to the nun's face.

"That's wonderful, Jeff. If I didn't have the kids, I don't know what I'd do.” She broke down. Catherine was listening. "Why did it have to happen, Jeff? I love him. It hurts, you know? I reach out for him in bed. Nothing. I lie awake all night, pretending I'll wake up and find it's not real. But it is. He was my whole life. The sun rose and set with him, even if he was an old grouch before his first cup a tea in the morning," she choked.