Sister Anselma came to her and held her tightly. Mickey wrapped her arms around Sister Anselma in return, clutching at the fabric of her habit. They stood like that for a long time, then Sister Anselma led Mickey to the sofa where they sat side by side.
“There are some things you must understand,” Sister Anselma said in a very quiet voice. “I told you before that my family was dysfunctional. I had never truly loved anyone in my life – not my family, not people I went to school with, no one – not until I met Mother Theodora. My love for her is a love born of respect and gratitude for all she’s done for me. But I have lived my life here coldly, in isolation. The solitude of monastic life has never been a problem for me. Mother told me when I was newly professed that I should expect religious life to become difficult at some point, but it never has – until now.”
She looked so frightened at that admission that Mickey asked, “Have I done anything – or said anything to –?”
“No,” Sister Anselma insisted, looking helplessly at Mickey. “You haven’t done anything – except to be you. Alice was right. I can’t help but be drawn to you, for so many reasons. You were so trusting of me during your retreat; I’ve watched the joy and laughter that follow you, with Sister Linus and Jessica; at the hospital, you were so sure, and so kind and so gentle as you cared for Mother, and then in the infirmary... Every time I turn around, you’ve broken through my defenses. You touch me in ways no one ever has before – and I find I don’t want to push you away.” She looked down at her hands. “I know loving you is wrong, at least within these walls, but loving you has made me a better person, a better nun. How ironic is that?”
Mickey pulled some tissues from the box on the end table. “Vows are coming up in a couple of months,” she reminded both of them again as she blew her nose.
“If not for this,” Sister Anselma asked, “would you be questioning your vows? Would you be happy here?”
“I still have a house and all my furniture to sell, and I have to admit that’s a scary leap to make, but yes, I would do it if not for this.”
Sister Anselma turned to face her. “I know it’s selfish, but I don’t want you to go. We’ve acknowledged our feelings; there’s nothing we can do about the fact that we feel this way, but we can control what we do about it. The feelings may pass in time.”
Mickey looked at her dubiously. “Can you be content, living with me here and being faithful to our vows? Because we cannot betray Mother’s trust in us.”
“You forget who you’re talking to,” Sister Anselma replied as her face hardened into the mask it so often wore. “I’m the ice queen, remember?”
Mickey smiled tenderly. In the only physical expression of her feelings she would permit herself, she gently laid her hand on Sister Anselma’s cheek. “You have never been that to me,” she murmured. She picked up her cloak and Alice’s letter and left without looking back.
╬ ╬ ╬
That night with Sister Anselma felt a bit like an exorcism for Mickey. Having finally been able to admit her feelings, they seemed easier to control. She was able to sleep most nights, and felt like she was back on solid ground emotionally. She wrote to Carol Barnes, her realtor in Baltimore, asking her to put the house on the market. When she mentioned all of this to Jamie, he surprised her by asking her to hold off selling her furniture. “I always liked the way you and Alice furnished the house. I might be interested in buying it,” he said vaguely.
Mickey and Sister Anselma both exercised stringent self-control and discipline, refusing to seek each other out at Recreation or to glance in each other’s direction in choir. Sister Josephine had told the novices about the old custom of “custody of the eyes,” used by monks and nuns to avoid eye contact with one another in an age of strict discipline. It seemed so extreme, the novices had laughed at it, but “I’m not laughing now,” Mickey said to herself.
A heavy snow fell across the region in early February. The juniors were asked to shovel the paths throughout the enclosure. Mickey shoveled the snow from around the enclosure gate and opened it to find Father Andrew shoveling the porch and walk of his residence. Together, they cleared the walk, their breath hanging in vapory clouds as they puffed with their exertions. When their shoveled paths met in the middle, they paused, catching their breath.
“Thanks,” he gasped.
Mickey looked up at him. “Are you okay?” she asked.
“Just out of shape,” he smiled. He eyed her more closely. “How about you?”
“Oh,” she said, scraping her shovel against an icy spot on the walk. “Um…”
“I know a little bit about sleepless nights,” he said. She looked up at him, wondering how many of her sleepless nights he had noticed and why he’d been up. “It’s okay,” he said, anticipating her reaction. “I’m not drinking. I just hope things are better.”
“Things are better, now, thanks,” she said.
She kept repeating that to herself as she paced in the corridor outside Mother’s office later in February. She and Jessica were each required to meet with her prior to taking vows, but Mickey had never felt so anxious at the prospect of talking to her. She had never lied to Mother Theodora and desperately hoped she would not be asked any questions she could not answer honestly. “Just remember, things are better now,” she said to herself one more time as she took a deep breath and knocked.
“Venite,” came the expected response.
“Pax tecum,” Mickey replied as she entered.
“Et cum spiritu tuo, my child. Come in, Mickey, sit.”
Mickey sat, as she had so many times before, in the chair facing Mother Theodora’s desk.
“How are you?” Mother Theodora’s dark eyes were probing. “You seem to have been struggling lately.”
“I have been,” Mickey admitted. “But… it’s getting better.”
“Do you feel prepared to take your vows?”
“Mostly.”
Mother smiled. “But you still have reservations?”
“I wish I could say no.”
“An honest response.” Mother Theodora continued to study Mickey’s face as she asked, “Is there any reason you should not proceed with your simple vows?”
Mickey paused for several seconds before answering. “No, Mother,” she said pensively, “but if circumstances became such that I felt I should not remain here any longer, I would come to you.”
Mother Theodora didn’t break her gaze. “I hope that will not be necessary, Sister,” she said quietly. “You have made a very real contribution to our community, and I would not like to see you leave, so long as you are confident it is God’s will that you be here.”
Once again, the community was asked to vote on the candidates for the novitiate and for simple vows. If Mickey thought she was nervous the last time her future at St. Bridget’s hung on a vote, it was nothing to the nerves she felt this time. She’d now been at St. Bridget’s for three years. Going back to the outside world would be very difficult, but so much had happened over the past two years, bad and good – the accusations from Wendy and Abigail, Mother’s accident and surgery – that she honestly couldn’t tell how the balance of those things might affect the vote.
The meeting with the Council went smoothly enough, although Mickey found it difficult to look Sister Scholastica in the eye. There were what she supposed were the standard questions: “Do you understand the gravity of the vows you will make?” “Are you prepared to live in accordance with your vows and the Rule of this abbey?” “Do you see any reason why you should not proceed in your vocation?” Mickey was very glad Sister Scholastica couldn’t read minds as she answered this last question, trying to maintain a neutral expression. When she received word this time that she had been accepted, she went to her choir stall and prayed fervently, “Please let me be worthy of their confidence.”
On Holy Thursday, Jessica and Mickey were again part of the foot-washing. Mother Theodora couldn’t help a quiet grunt as she lowered herself to her knees –
“your abdominal muscles will never be as strong again,” Mickey had warned her after her surgery – and it took all of Mickey’s self-control not to assist Mother to her feet after she had washed the last woman’s feet. As always following the Mass, the Eucharist was temporarily removed from the main Chapel, but this year the common room was to be used as the choir and chapel for the next two days. The altar in the main Chapel was closed from view by a floor to ceiling drape. Mother Theodora would only say that the Chapel was being remodeled. The nuns could hear workers on the other side of the drape.
As the Easter Vigil Mass began Saturday night, back in the main Chapel, a partial drape was still in place above the altar. Mickey glanced into the public chapel and was surprised to see Jamie and Jennifer sitting there. She had been expecting them for Easter Sunday, but neither had said anything about being there that night. Communion was distributed, and as the Recessional music began with the organ reverberating and voices joyfully proclaiming, “Exsultet iam angelica turba caelorum exsultent divina mysteriosa…”, the drape was released, falling dramatically to the floor. Mickey gasped and forgot to sing. Behind the altar, seemingly suspended in mid-air, was a larger-than-life sculpture of Jesus, arms raised overhead, body arched. It was simultaneously the posture of the crucifixion and an expression of triumph. She turned to Jamie who was smiling proudly.
Mickey got to speak to him only briefly through the grille following Mass. “It’s absolutely beautiful,” she said, her eyes shining. “I am so proud of you.”
“Thanks,” he said, taking her hand through the grille.
Mickey glanced at Jennifer and was shocked to see her looking at Jamie with a radiant expression. “I want to talk to you tomorrow,” she said to him with the twin look.
Bishop Marcus returned to the abbey the next day for the profession of Jessica and Mickey into simple vows. Together, they sang the Magnificat as they approached the altar where the Bishop and Mother awaited them. Bishop Marcus gave Mickey a small nod of recognition.
Lying facedown on the floor, Jessica and Mickey made their vows, signed the agreement and received the plain silver bands signifying this stage of religious life. Mickey choked up as she felt the weight of the band where Alice’s ring used to be. After their short, white veils were exchanged for long, black ones in the side chamber where they had first received the habit, they went to their choir stalls while the two postulants were Clothed. Mickey was barely aware of what was happening to them. Though the Clothing was a much more elaborate ceremony, this one – this simple exchange of promises and veils felt so much more profound. “Well, it would be after all the drama you created to go with it,” she reminded herself. “Why do you always have to make everything so hard?”
When Mass was over, the two newly professed nuns and two new novices went through the traditional receiving line, ending with the Abbess. As they had when Mickey and the others had been Clothed, many of the hugs were accompanied by wishes of encouragement, “I’m so glad, Sister,” or “God bless you, Sister.” Sister Josephine’s green eyes twinkled with a smile as she said, “You’ve aged me ten years in the last few months. I didn’t think you’d make it this far.”
Mickey laughed. “For a while, I wasn’t sure either. Thank you for everything,” she said sincerely as she gave Sister Josephine a hug.
When she got to Sister Anselma, neither trusted herself to speak. For a couple of seconds, they allowed themselves to let down their guard as they looked into each other’s eyes. Their embrace was the only touch they’d shared since admitting their feelings to one another. Reluctantly, they released each other and Mickey moved on.
Mother Theodora gave Mickey a tight hug, whispering, “My prayer for you is that you find peace, Mickey.” Mickey noticed she didn’t say “find peace here,” but “you’re just being paranoid,” she told herself.
There was a reception in the refectory for the families of the four women celebrating the day. Mother Theodora introduced Jamie as the sculptor of the figure hanging in the Chapel. He received an enthusiastic round of applause. Mickey had to wait for the crowd around him to disperse before she could talk to him.
“Jamie,” she beamed as she hugged him tightly. “Why in the world didn’t you tell me? It’s incredible!”
He smiled, still red-faced from all the attention. “Thanks. I’ve been working on it for the past year. Mother Theodora asked me to come up with some sketches, and we worked out the design. She asked me not to say anything to you; she wanted it to be a surprise for the community.”
“Isn’t it wonderful?” Jennifer appeared at Mickey’s side and hugged her also. “I’ve seen some of his other work at galleries in New York, but there’s something special about this piece.”
Her dark eyes focused intently on Mickey. “How are you? The letter…?”
“It was rough for a while,” Mickey admitted. “It was like hearing her talk to me five years after she’d gone… but it’s better now,” she smiled. Keep saying it and someday you’ll believe it.
“You look wonderful,” Jennifer said. “I can’t believe I’m saying that about one of these.” She made a face as she tugged at the sleeve of Mickey’s habit.
Mickey laughed and caught Sister Anselma’s eye. Beckoning her over, she introduced Jamie and Jennifer. “Sister Anselma is in charge of the vestment room.”
Jennifer’s interest was piqued. “Really? Could we… I mean, I don’t mean to impose, but I would love to see some of your work.”
Sister Anselma smiled curiously. “Why is that?”
“Well, I’m an assistant curator of cloth art for a museum, and I’ve been studying Renaissance and medieval ecclesiastical vestments, and I would love to see a modern example of that type of work.”
Sister Anselma nodded. “We will need to ask Mother’s permission first.”
Jennifer and Sister Anselma went to find Mother Theodora. Mickey turned to Jamie. “Well?”
“Well, what?” he countered, but he was turning red.
“You and Jennifer,” she said with mock sternness. “You know exactly what I mean.”
He grinned and scratched the back of his head. “We’ve stayed in touch since Christmas.” He looked seriously at Mickey. “She’s really special, Mick, but if this is too weird for you, we’ll stop.”
She looked into his earnest blue eyes. “Do you love her?”
“I think it’s going in that direction.”
“Jamie,” she said, laying a hand on his arm, “you and Jennifer are two of the people I love most in this world. I would be thrilled if you fell in love.”
He let out the breath he had been holding. “I was hoping you’d say that.”
A short while later, Jennifer and Sister Anselma returned to the reception. Jennifer was gushing, “I can’t believe I never knew you were here! Your work is exquisite! And the techniques you use are just like it was done hundreds of years ago.” Her face lit up as another thought occurred to her. “Would you consider taking on some restoration work? It pays very well.” She clapped a hand to her mouth. “Is it okay to talk to a nun about money?”
Sister Anselma smiled again. “You would need to discuss that with Mother Theodora.” She looked around and spied Mother across the room. “She’s over there.”
“Come on,” Jamie said, taking Jennifer’s elbow, “Let’s see if she’ll schedule a meeting.”
“She certainly is enthusiastic,” Sister Anselma said to Mickey after they left. “Is she your brother’s girlfriend?”
Mickey’s eyebrows went up. “Apparently she is. She’s also Alice’s baby sister.” Sister Anselma looked at Mickey in surprise, and then back over to Jennifer and Jamie. “That’s almost exactly what Alice looked like when we met. The resemblance between them is remarkable.”
“She’s beautiful,” Sister Anselma murmured, studying Jennifer with greater curiosity. She turned to Mickey. “Are you all right, being around such a strong reminder of Alice?”
Mickey smiled. “I have to admit, the
first time she came to visit me, it was like seeing a ghost. It took me a few minutes to collect myself.” She looked over at Sister Anselma. Here, in the midst of the celebration, it seemed safe to talk. “How are you?”
Sister Anselma looked down at the floor, rather than at Mickey. “About as you’d expect. For over sixteen years I’ve never doubted being here, never was unhappy, never struggled with anything. Nothing feels the same anymore.”
Mickey didn’t know what to say, but Sister Anselma seemed to sense her guilt. “This is not your fault,” she insisted quietly.
Mickey nodded, but didn’t trust herself to look at Sister Anselma again. Further conversation was cut off by Jamie and Jennifer coming back over to say good-bye. Jennifer promised Sister Anselma she would follow up on the restoration work as Mickey walked them to the entrance.
Jamie paused and looked at Mickey. “What is it?” he asked, placing a hand on her shoulder.
She knew better than to lie to him. Neither of them could fool the other, and the truth always came out eventually. Instead, “It’ll be okay,” she reassured him.
As she watched them drive away in her old SUV, the realization struck that there were no more classes or ceremonies to distract her. Now, there was only the daily life of the abbey stretching out before her without interruption. For a few seconds, Mickey almost ran down the drive after them, begging them to take her with them. She got her panic under control. Damn, she thought, with another quick thought that she really should stop swearing, that was almost the shortest vows on record.
In This Small Spot Page 18