“Sure,” she replied, grabbing her coffee cup and following him into a consultation room where a few medical students sat, going over some x-rays.
“Guys, could you give us a minute?” he asked.
They got up and left the room as David tapped computer keys, bringing a series of MRI images up on a large screen mounted on the wall. Mickey stepped closer to look at the images.
“Holy cow, David. Look at the extent of that spinal tumor. And look here,” she pointed, “it’s already spread into the lungs, the liver…”
Her eyes flicked to the corner of the monitor where the patient’s name was printed. Her coffee cup crashed to the floor, and she felt the room spin. David grabbed her and helped her into a chair.
“I’m so sorry, Mickey,” he said in a low voice. “I should have ordered an MRI right away.”
Her white face was expressionless. “A few weeks wouldn’t have mattered,” she waved her hand toward the images, “not with all that.”
He sat miserably, not sure what to say next.
“Have you told her?” Mickey asked.
“No,” his voice cracked, “not yet.”
She got up and walked over to the telephone on the wall. She punched the numbers and waited. “Alice? Can you meet me at the office?”
Chapter 25
When Mother Theodora finally regained consciousness, Mickey was hovering. “You look terrible,” Mother said in a weak voice.
Mickey smiled in relief. “You’ve looked better yourself.”
When Father Andrew and Sister Mary David had returned to the hospital the day after the accident, they brought Sister Scholastica with them. Mickey had permitted them to come into the recovery room, but warned them that Mother was not yet conscious.
“I’ll stay until she is out of danger,” she said firmly, knowing full well that she was speaking to the acting Abbess, and that she should have asked permission. It barely registered that Sister Scholastica didn’t chastise her.
When they left, Sister Anselma returned to the abbey with them, leaving Mickey to her solitary vigil. She stayed in the recovery room, sleeping fifteen to twenty minutes at a time in the next bed before starting awake and rushing over to check on her patient.
When she was finally stable, Mother was transferred to a regular room. Greg Allenby stopped by two or three times a day and someone from the abbey, usually Father Andrew, came daily to check on Mother and provide updates to the community where, Mickey was certain, a round the clock vigil had been held, the nuns rotating through shifts in an unceasing prayer for Mother’s recovery – “and for you,” they would tell Mickey later. Greg introduced Mickey to Ian Zakovski, a general surgeon in practice in Millvale. They discussed Mother Theodora’s continued care, and finally, five days after the fall, Mickey felt comfortable leaving her. She called the abbey to ask for a ride home.
Sister Scholastica came with Sister Mary David to the hospital. They visited Mother briefly, reassuring her all was well at St. Bridget’s and conferring with her as to her instructions for the abbey during her absence. By the time they left her room, Mickey had changed back into her habit and was waiting for them.
She sat silently in the back seat of the station wagon. Sister Mary David watched her worriedly in the rear-view mirror. Mickey looked gaunt, and there were dark circles under her eyes. The habit hid much, but Sister Mary David was sure Mickey had hardly eaten. “Mother said you are to go to bed for the rest of the day, and tomorrow you are not to work or attend classes. You may stay in your cell all day if you wish,” she said to Mickey’s reflection. Mickey nodded but still said nothing.
When they got back to the abbey, Sister Scholastica pulled her aside. “Sister Michele, you have done an immeasurable service for the community.” Her sharp, hawkish features softened a little. “I… I would like to apologize for my earlier hostility.”
Mickey looked at her tiredly. “Sister, your hostility was based on what you learned about my past. That hasn’t changed. I’m the same person I was then. The only thing that has changed is now I’m a lesbian who operated on someone important to you. I will accept your apology for the sake of the community, but unless it’s based on a change of heart, it doesn’t mean much.” And with that she went to her cell where she undressed, fell into bed and slept for over twenty-four hours.
╬ ╬ ╬
Two weeks from the day of her fall, Mother Theodora was released from the hospital, but “what a weird two weeks,” Mickey would tell her later.
She encountered Father Andrew in the garden a couple of days after she got back, where he was rebuilding a trellis that had partially collapsed the previous winter under a heavy snow.
“I didn’t know you were a carpenter,” she said.
He looked down at her from his ladder. “I didn’t know you were a surgeon.” He climbed down and surveyed his work. “I’ve discovered it helps to stay busy.”
“So, you’re doing okay?” Mickey asked tentatively. “You haven’t…?”
“Fallen off the wagon?” he finished for her. “No. I can’t say this accident of Mother’s didn’t shake me up. It would have been so easy to… but, I can’t do that to her. She trusted me, argued with the abbot that I should be allowed to stay here, even if it means having to have a permanent roommate. I can’t betray her by drinking again.”
He looked at her. “How about you?”
Mickey gave a half-laugh as she looked around at the garden in early bloom. “It’s been almost as strange as it was during the Wendy and Abigail fiasco. People avoided me then because they were afraid of being found guilty by association, but now… it’s almost as if they’re afraid to come near me out of deference or awe.”
He nodded. “It can be lonely, being singled out, left to yourself. It should get back to normal, assuming you don’t have to save lives too often,” he smiled.
Frowning, Mickey asked, “Why were you assigned here? I mean, did you want it? Isn’t it lonelier than being at St. Dominic’s?”
He bent over, picking up another handful of nails. “I didn’t want it at first. I was pissed when Abbot Daniel assigned me here, but…” He looked around the garden and up at the stone bell tower. “There’s something about this place, something that’s not present at St. Dominic’s.”
“Women, maybe?” Mickey grinned.
He laughed and Mickey wondered if she had ever heard him laugh before. “Maybe that’s it. There’s a gentleness and peace that’s just not there in a monastery full of men. I love arguing philosophy with Sister Stephen – who has read Plato and Socrates in the original Greek, by the way – and the day to day conversations I used to have with Sister Linus, about homely things, nothing important. It’s like living in a family where I have seventy-five sisters instead of the five I grew up with. Maybe that’s part of it.”
Mickey laughed. “I only had one brother. And every now and again, having seventy-five sisters feels a little crowded.”
“So,” he held his hands out, “enjoy this time where they’re leaving you alone.”
When Mother Theodora got back to St. Bridget’s, one of the first things she did was summon Mickey to her room. Mickey had never been to Mother’s private room which was actually three rooms: a larger bedroom than a typical cell, a sitting room with a desk and, tucked into its own alcove, a small chapel with a prie-dieu. She found Mother Theodora sitting up in a chair, in her nightgown with a blanket on her lap and a short veil on her head. She still looked frail, and suddenly seemed much older to Mickey than she had ever seemed before.
Mickey knelt beside her chair, taking Mother’s hand in both of hers. “How are you feeling, Mother?”
“I am being compliant with my doctor’s orders,” she replied with a wan smile.
“Then it’s worse than I thought,” Mickey grinned.
“Sit. And stop taking my pulse!”
Mickey laughed and pulled a second chair closer.
Mother Theodora shifted, wincing in obvious discomfort. “I don�
�t know how to adequately thank you,” she said. “Not only for what you did in the operating room, although I understand that was quite remarkable, but for being willing to take the risk of failing.” She looked kindly into Mickey’s eyes. “There really is a light that beckons.”
In a rush of emotion, Mickey fell to her knees again, pressing her forehead against Mother Theodora’s knee and clutching the blanket. “I could feel you,” she whispered, “I knew you were on the cusp of making that choice. I was so terrified you would leave.” She felt Mother’s hand on her head.
“I know you were, child,” Mother said softly. “I couldn’t do that to you, although I was quite willing to go.” She grasped Mickey’s shoulders. “Please sit, Mickey. I want to know how things have been for you since you got back.”
Mickey resumed her seat, wiping her eyes. “It’s been… strange. Sister Scholastica apologized to me, but I’m afraid I wasn’t very gracious about it. I basically told her it was meaningless unless it was prompted by a change of heart.”
Mother’s eyes narrowed as she considered her next words. “Sister Scholastica very nearly became Abbess when Mother Benedicta died. It took eleven votes before I was elected, and I think she was truly crushed not to have been chosen, although why anyone would ask for this is beyond me. She has always felt that I am too liberal, and she feels the need to be vigilant to safeguard the abbey. It may be small comfort to you, but I believe she truly thought, probably still thinks, that you represent a threat to religious life.” Mickey nodded resignedly. “How about the others?”
Mickey shrugged. “They’re behaving a little oddly, but…”
Mother smiled. “Things will return to normal.”
“That’s what Father Andrew said.”
“On a different note, have you been contacted by Millvale General’s administrator?”
Mickey laughed. “Oh, yes. He was hovering around the recovery room waiting to talk to me, but Greg wouldn’t let him come in and disturb you. He is so afraid you may sue them for permitting an unlicensed, out-of-state surgeon to operate on you. I told him he should be more worried about being sued over not having the ER adequately staffed.”
Mother smiled. “Yes, he sent flowers. He has been very solicitous. Poor man. It must be terrible to live in such a constant state of distrust.”
Mother shifted again with a grimace of pain, and Mickey insisted she get back in bed and rest. She helped get her settled as comfortably as possible, and left as Sister Mary David came in to check on her. As she walked down the corridor, back toward the Chapel, Mickey paused to look out a window. The trees were just beginning to bud, waving tiny leaves in the spring breeze.
Even Sister Anselma was different, although Mickey suspected it wasn’t for the same reasons as everyone else. Every time she looked at Mickey since her return, she seemed to get the same flush to her cheeks she’d had in the hospital. For her own part, Mickey had found that she was disturbingly aware of how beautiful Sister Anselma was.
She shook herself from these thoughts. “Mother is right,” she told herself, “this will pass. Things will return to normal.”
╬ ╬ ╬
Greg Allenby began making weekly trips to St. Bridget’s. He brought medical supplies to Sister Mary David, including things he knew Mickey could administer, such as suture kits and IV bags of saline. He began seeing some of the sisters as patients for minor injuries and check-ups. He usually found time to visit with Mickey, and she got the feeling he was enjoying his role as the abbey’s physician. He also took over Mother Theodora’s post-operative care, which Mickey welcomed now that Mother was out of danger. It had been difficult being a very junior subordinate of the Abbess one minute and her physician the next. Every time Mother Theodora tried to talk to Greg about payment, he would laugh and tell her he was putting it on account. “Who knows?” he would say, “I might need to make a withdrawal someday.”
Things did begin to return to normal for Mickey as predicted. The most notable exception was the three new novices; though they had been open and talkative in their first weeks in the Novitiate with Mickey and the others, now they just couldn’t seem to get past their intimidation whenever they were asked to participate in group discussions in front of Mickey. “This is getting us nowhere,” Sister Josephine said in frustration, but she couldn’t find anything that would prompt them to speak up.
In June, Sister Regina needed their help again with the first hay cutting. The six novices and two new postulants all went out to stack and store the bales. Mickey and Sister Kathleen were on the wagon stacking the bales as they were tossed up by the others. Sister Kathleen was a tiny woman, maybe five feet tall and Mickey guessed about ninety pounds. This was hard work, but she wasn’t complaining. They wore gloves to protect their hands as they grasped the bales by the binding wires on either side and, together, tossed them into position. Sister Kathleen had grabbed her side of a bale and, as she and Mickey tossed it on top of the stack, her glove got caught on the wire. The weight and momentum of the hay pulled her over.
“Oh my gosh! Are you all right?” Mickey asked, rushing over to see if she was okay and help her untangle herself.
“I’m fine,” Sister Kathleen said, brushing herself off.
“I wish we had a video of that,” Mickey laughed. She stood up and was just starting to turn back to Jessica and the others on the ground when a bale hit her in the chest, knocking her backwards. She tripped over the bale behind her and fell head over heels, landing with her legs sticking straight up in the air, her skirts around her waist.
Sister Kathleen was laughing so hard, she had to sit down on another bale. “No, I wish we had a video of that!” she giggled.
In a few seconds, all the others were doubled over with laughter also. Sister Regina turned around on St. Jude and saw a trail of bales behind her, still on the ground as the juniors wiped tears off their faces. Mickey was laughing, too, still sitting with her butt stuck between bales.
“Well, I never!” Sister Regina exclaimed indignantly. This just make them laugh all the harder.
The next day, they were still giggling about how ridiculous Mickey had looked. After that, getting them to talk in Sister Josephine’s discussions was not a problem.
What was a problem was Tanya. Mickey had been so pre-occupied with Mother Theodora’s accident that she had forgotten about whatever was bothering Tanya, so it had been with some surprise that she saw how Tanya’s surliness had increased while she was away. During their discussions of vows with Sister Josephine, she was stubbornly silent. Finally, even Sister Josephine was at her wit’s end. She asked Jessica and Mickey to speak with her. “I just can’t get through to her,” she said in frustration, “but you three are closer than most after all you’ve been through together. Please try.”
Mickey and Jessica walked Tanya up to the cemetery one afternoon so they could talk privately.
“Won’t you tell us what’s wrong?” Jessica asked.
Tanya stared at the ground, refusing to look at either of them. Jessica started to reach her arm out around Tanya’s shoulders, but Tanya quickly pulled away. “Don’t touch me!” she snapped.
Jessica jerked her arm back as if burned. Tanya quickly apologized. “It’s not you…” She let out an exasperated breath. “I need a good fuck!”
Jessica put a hand to her mouth in genuine shock at this outburst. Mickey coughed as she choked in her surprise.
“How old are you now, Tanya?” she asked.
“Twenty-eight. I’ll be twenty-nine in October,” she answered sullenly, mashing an acorn under her heel.
“Just a guess,” Mickey said, “but are you wondering if you wouldn’t rather be married, raising a family?”
Tanya surprised them again by bursting into tears. They let her cry, guiding her to a bench and sitting with her.
“You know, there’s nothing wrong with that,” Mickey said softly.
“But,” Tanya hiccupped, “I’ve wanted to be a nun all my life.” She snif
fled a few times. “And Wendy and Abigail –”
“– were jerks,” Mickey finished for her. “No one was upset because they left. It was the way they left and what they tried to do after.”
Jessica bravely reached out to Tanya again, and this time Tanya let her. “No one will think anything bad about you if this isn’t where you feel you’re supposed to be,” Jessica said gently.
“But I’d miss you two so much,” Tanya protested weakly.
“We’d miss you, too. But that would be eased by knowing you’re happy,” Mickey pointed out. “And you’ve got to talk with Sister Josephine.”
Tanya nodded, sniffing. “I know. I’ve been horrible to her.”
“She’s worried about you.”
Tanya pulled them both to her for a group hug, and they walked back down the hill. As they walked, Mickey caught Jessica’s eye and she knew they were thinking the same thing: their group of five looked as if it might soon be whittled down to two.
Chapter 26
“Would you mind if we went home for Dad’s birthday?” Alice had asked. Charles and Edna Worthington still lived in the family home in Orange, Virginia. Alice and her seven siblings and the spouses and children of those who were married all came home for that birthday. No one said it out loud, but they all knew it would probably be the last time they would all be together.
Alice hadn’t complained once, so Mickey had taken to asking her frequently if she was in pain. By choosing not to have chemotherapy, Alice hadn’t gotten really sick, though the cancer was wasting her physically. She had had enough energy to visit friends and places that were special to them. But Mickey could tell the pain was getting worse, despite Alice’s constant good mood.
Mickey had hastily arranged for an extended leave from teaching and from the practice after Alice’s diagnosis. She knew it was a matter of weeks. She watched Alice laughing and talking with her mother as they iced Charles’s birthday cake. Unexpected tears sprang to her eyes, and she had to go outside for a few minutes to get her emotions under control.
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