In This Small Spot

by Caren Werlinger

  She hesitated, looking down at her hands. “I will try to be less controlling. Please let me know if I slip back into my old habits.”

  There was an uncomfortable silence. Looking around, Mickey realized no one there would tell Sister Anselma any such thing. “I get it,” she quipped, “old habits, nun humor.”

  Sister Anselma shook her head and smiled, breaking the tension, and the others laughed. As they all went back to their work, Sister Anselma gave Mickey a look of such tenderness and gratitude that it put a smile on Mickey’s face for the remainder of the afternoon.

  ╬ ╬ ╬

  Mickey hurried past the common room and heard the juniors rehearsing for their Christmas concert for the community. Sometimes, it still seemed strange – “and a little sad,” she would have admitted – that she wasn’t doing those things anymore. Mother Theodora had asked to see her, their first private conversation since before Mickey took her vows.

  Mickey knocked impatiently, waiting for, “Venite.”

  “Pax tecum, Mother. Are you all right?”

  “Et cum spiritu tuo.” Mother Theodora came from behind her desk to greet Mickey with a hug. “I am fine, Mickey. That is not why I sent for you. I know I shouldn’t keep calling you Mickey, but somehow, it just suits you, even in a habit,” she said with a smile. She joined Mickey, taking the other chair in front of her desk.

  Clasping her hands together, Mother Theodora looked at Mickey with a serious expression. “I asked to see you because I have heard from Abigail Morgan. She’s asking to re-enter St. Bridget’s.”

  Mickey stared at Mother Theodora, certain this must be some kind of bad joke, only Mother wasn’t smiling. She felt as if someone had knocked the wind out of her. “What about Wendy?” she finally asked.

  “She claims she and Wendy parted company soon after the affair with the attorney. She seems to be deeply penitent about her role in that matter.” Mickey got up and went to the window as Mother Theodora continued. “She realizes that she was partly to blame for causing you a great deal of humiliation and possibly ending your time with us.”

  “What did you tell her?” Mickey asked from where she stood, looking out at the grounds and trying to control the angry retorts that leapt to her tongue.

  “I told her that the legal matter had affected more than you, that it had embroiled the entire community in an atmosphere of distrust and paranoia. I told her that, of course, I would need to speak with you, but that it would also be necessary to ask the entire community for a vote on whether to accept her back here.”

  “Why here?” Mickey asked in frustration, turning to look at Mother Theodora. “Why doesn’t she just start over somewhere else?”

  “I asked her that, too. She said if she is to pursue her vocation, she needs to face her mistakes and be accountable for them.”

  Mickey returned slowly to her chair and stared down at her clasped hands. “How do you feel about this, Mother?”

  Mother Theodora sighed. “I am of a mixed mind. On one hand, we, in theory, should be able to forgive if we are convinced that someone’s remorse is genuine. In this case, I think that is a great deal to ask,” she added sympathetically. “On the other hand, if she does return, I fear Abigail would be a target of excessive scrutiny and unrealistically stringent expectations.”

  Mickey pulled absently at a hangnail on her thumb, frowning as she considered. “I wish I were a big enough person to say I’m ready to forgive her and move on.” She glanced up at Mother Theodora. “May I take a couple of days to think about it?”

  Mother Theodora nodded. “Of course. I would like to discuss this with the entire community later this week so I can give Abigail an answer. Do you think you could be ready to participate in a discussion of the matter by, say, Friday? And I want you to be candid, Mickey. Whatever we decide must be based on an honest dialogue.”

  “I understand.”

  As the nuns gathered in the common room Friday evening after Compline, Mickey guessed she was the only one who knew why they were meeting. She sat, a queer sick feeling in her gut, while all around her were curious whispers speculating as to why they had been called together. She had suspected all along that Wendy was mostly responsible for the legal blackmail, but that didn’t excuse Abigail of her involvement. No matter what had led to their split-up, she couldn’t help feeling resentful at this intrusion into her world. “I earned the right to be here!” Mickey wanted to shout, but she knew that wasn’t true. “None of us has earned any special favor as far as our Lord is concerned,” she could hear any number of the nuns say, and furthermore, she knew if it hadn’t been for Mother Theodora’s trust and support, she herself would never have been given the chance to test her vocation within these walls.

  “Sisters.” Mother Theodora’s voice immediately quieted the room. “I have called you together, ironically, to discuss another chapter in the same matter we met about the last time I called you together like this. Abigail Morgan, one of the two young women who falsely accused Sister Michele two years ago, has contacted me, asking to be re-admitted to St. Bridget’s as a postulant. She deeply regrets her involvement in the previous incident. We do not normally meet like this to discuss a candidate’s request for admission, but due to Abigail’s history with us, and the fact that it involved the entire community, I told her it would have to be a community-wide decision.” She paused for a moment to let her news sink in. Mickey saw several heads turn in her direction, including Sister Anselma’s. “We will open the floor for comments or questions.”

  There was a stunned silence for a few seconds and then Sister Scholastica stood. “I think the entire idea is preposterous,” she huffed indignantly. “An abbey is no place for a woman who…” She paused with a quick glance in Mickey’s direction and Mickey had the feeling she was weighing her indignation over Abigail’s request against her reluctance to champion Mickey in any way. “For a woman of her character.”

  “I disagree,” Sister Cecilia said, standing also. “None of us were saints when we entered, and the last time I looked, none of us are yet.” There was some laughter at this. “Isn’t the point of religious life to try and overcome the faults and temptations that would pull us away from God – whatever form they take?”

  “Mother, do you feel Abigail is truly sorry for what she did?” someone asked from the back of the room.

  “I do,” Mother Theodora responded.

  “I’d like to know what Sister Michele has to say about this,” someone else said.

  Mickey took a deep breath and stood, her cheeks hot and flushed as all eyes focused on her. “Mother told me of Abigail’s request a few days ago,” she began. “I’ve been wrestling with the issue since then, and I confess I’ve felt more anger than forgiveness, but –” She paused. “When I was nineteen or twenty, I went through a period where I was so extremely self-centered that I did and said a lot of things that were cruel and hurtful to people around me. For a long time afterward, I wished I could undo those things, but as I got older, I realized that, as humiliating and regrettable as it is to think that I left such a trail of hurt feelings and that those people will always remember me like that, the lessons I learned during that period were largely responsible for making me the woman I eventually became. To undo those events would be like,” she glanced at Sister Anselma who was watching her closely, “like pulling apart the tapestry of my life. With the perspective of time, I would not now choose to change my past, but I also would not want to be forever judged by who I was then.”

  She lifted her head and looked at Mother Theodora as she continued. “If we decide to accept Abigail back among us, and I am willing to do so, we have to let her start fresh. As Sister Cecilia said, there are no saints here yet. Abigail has some apologies to make, but… if she’s humble enough and brave enough to return here, knowing what we all know, I believe she should be given the chance.”

  There was not a sound as Mickey sat.

  Mother Theodora let the silence stretch on for a minut
e or two that felt like an eternity. “Are we ready to vote then?”

  Later, as the nuns dispersed, Sister Linus waited for Mickey. Leading her off to one side, she peered up into Mickey’s face. “I’m not sure we’re not making a mistake,” she said, “letting her back in. I think I agree with Sister Scholastica – ha! There’s a first.” Mickey smiled. “But, I figure you’re the only one with any real right to complain, and if you’re willing to give her another chance, who are we to stand in her way?”

  Sister Anselma approached. “Sister Linus is right,” she said. “With one word, you could have ignited the righteous indignation of nearly everyone in that room, and no one would have blamed you if you had. Instead, you gave us an example of forgiveness and generosity of spirit no one could argue with. Sister Scholastica looked as if someone had slapped her.”

  Sister Linus chuckled. “Something I’ve wanted to do many times over the years.”

  Mickey shook her head. “All I did was remember that nearly all of us have done regrettable things, sometimes horrible things, in our youth. No one should be judged by that for the rest of her life.” She glanced from one to the other. “And I keep reminding myself I haven’t been face to face with Abigail yet. What if I lose my temper and punch her in the face? What will you two think of me then?”

  Chapter 34

  “Hey, sis,” said a male voice behind Mickey as she sat for one of Jennifer’s lectures.

  “Jamie! What are you doing here? And what are you doing here?” she asked in surprise.

  He laughed. “It’s all right. I got permission from Mother Theodora and drove up with Jen this morning.”

  “You survived Mom’s Christmas visit? How was she with Jennifer?”

  “She was… okay. She was civil.”

  “That’s more than she ever was with Alice,” Mickey said with a trace of bitterness.

  “You just have to ignore some of the things she says, not take them personally,” he said sympathetically.

  Mickey made a grimace. “You’re a better person than I am.”

  Jamie stood suddenly. “Hello, Mother Theodora,” he said, extending a hand. “Thank you again for granting me permission to sit in on this lecture.”

  “Of course, James,” she smiled. “I’ll talk to you later.”

  Jennifer was set to begin, and the lights were dimmed for her slides. This was the first lecture since before Christmas. She was talking today about Chinese weaving and tapestries – “some, like this one,” she said, holding up a piece of what looked at first like solid amber silk until she moved it in the light, “were woven for meditation, with only subtle, abstract variations in the weave, while these,” she held up a tapestry depicting a battle, “are as intricately woven and embroidered as anything produced in Europe.”

  An hour later, as the nuns filed out, Mickey and Jamie stayed to help her pack up her materials.

  “Uh, Mickey,” Jamie said with a quick glance at Jennifer, “could we talk to you for a minute?”

  They pulled three chairs aside and sat, Mickey waiting expectantly.

  “What is it?” Mickey asked when neither of them seemed able to start.

  “We,” Jennifer stumbled, “we wanted to talk to you, to tell you that… uh…”

  “We’d like to get married,” Jamie finished.

  “Married?” Mickey sat stunned for several seconds. “Are you asking my permission?” she asked finally.

  “Yes, actually,” Jamie answered, blushing furiously.

  “You are so important to both of us,” Jennifer said, reaching for both Mickey’s and Jamie’s hands. “We want to be sure you’re okay with this.”

  “Of course I’m okay,” Mickey said, pulling both of them to her for a hug. “I think it’s wonderful!”

  “There’s one other thing,” Jamie added, “We’d like to be married here at St. Bridget’s.”

  “You’re kidding!”

  “No, we’re serious,” Jennifer said. “We feel like the abbey, and you, are so much a part of what brought us together. We can’t think of any place else that would mean as much to us.”

  “Do you think Mother Theodora would give her consent?” Jamie asked.

  “I think she might,” said Mother Theodora from the doorway, making them all jump. She smiled as she came in. “St. Bridget’s would be honored to host the wedding of two people who have contributed so much to our community. Did you have a date in mind?”

  Jennifer looked over at Jamie. “We thought May might be a good time. The abbey will be done with the Easter Clothing and vow ceremonies, and it seemed like it would be relatively quiet.”

  “That’s not far away. Didn’t your sisters need something like a year or more to plan their weddings?” Mickey asked.

  Jennifer laughed. “All we want is family and a few close friends. No bridesmaids, no groomsmen, just us and all of you.”

  Mother joined them as they made tentative plans, and then Jamie and Jennifer took their leave.

  “How do you feel about this?” Mother Theodora asked Mickey as they walked down the corridor toward the Chapel.

  “I really am delighted for them. I hope they’ll be as happy as Alice and I were.”

  Mother Theodora stopped outside the Chapel and looked at Mickey quizzically. “And are you happy here?”

  Mickey thought for a moment before answering. “It’s different from the happiness of sharing your life with someone who loves you… but, yes, I am happy here.”

  “Is this life as satisfying as your old life?”

  Mickey paused. “That’s difficult to answer. There are many things I miss, but there are a lot of trivial, meaningless things that can consume you in secular life if you let them. This life can be lonely at times, but it feels full. Every moment seems to matter more somehow. Each life has rewards the other can’t offer, and each would be a sacrifice to leave. Why do you ask?”

  “I was just curious,” Mother answered with an expression Mickey couldn’t interpret.

  By the time Jennifer returned the following week, most of the community had heard about the wedding plans. She received numerous congratulations.

  “Where’s your engagement ring?” Sister Anselma asked after the lecture as they helped Jennifer fold up the samples she had brought with her.

  “Don’t have one. I told Jamie I didn’t need for him to make a downpayment on me as if I were a car. As far as I’m concerned, buying Mickey’s old furniture and a new washer and dryer is all the declaration I need of his intentions.”

  “This is going to be an interesting marriage,” Mickey laughed.

  “I hope it’ll be as good as yours was,” Jennifer said sincerely.

  Mickey blushed deeply, and Sister Anselma looked at her with an amused expression.

  “Oh, shit,” Jennifer gasped, “I forgot, I mean, I figured, oh shit…” she repeated with her hand over her eyes.

  “It’s okay, Jen. Sister Anselma knows about Alice,” Mickey reassured her.

  Jennifer looked with relief from one to the other. “Good.” She gathered up her bags. “Mickey, could you give me a hand with this stuff?” Mickey helped Jennifer carry her things to the car. Closing the trunk, Jennifer turned to Mickey and asked, “Does she know?”

  Mickey’s eyebrows raised in surprise. “Well, yes, I told you inside that she knows about Alice.”

  “No,” Jennifer chided, laying a hand on Mickey’s arm. “Does she know that you’re in love with her?”

  Mickey leaned against the car, suddenly feeling dizzy and nauseous. “How did you know?” she asked weakly.

  “I’ve wondered for a while. Actually, Jamie noticed first. The way you look at her when you’re not aware. But just now, when we were inside, you were so embarrassed… she knows, doesn’t she?”

  Mickey nodded, looking at the ground.

  “And she feels the same way.” This was a statement, not a question. Mickey nodded again. “Oh, Mick, what are you going to do?”

  “I don’t know, Jen,” s
he answered quietly. She looked up suddenly. “Are you okay? I mean, I don’t want –”

  “Mickey,” Jennifer interrupted, “this isn’t about Alice or me. It’s been years. Alice would have wanted you to be happy. I just don’t know how you’re going to find happiness in this situation.”

  “Neither do I.”

  Chapter 35

  “Damn,” Mickey cussed under her breath. She squinted again at the topographic map she pulled from her fishing vest, trying to identify some feature that would tell her where she was. Four hours ago, she had left her SUV parked alongside a dirt logging road, and started following the stream adjacent to it, but along the way, she had cut across a ridge to get around a section of the stream swollen with run-off from the spring thaw, and now she had no idea which way the logging road was.

  Jamie would be getting worried if she wasn’t back soon. The most frustrating part was, she knew the reason she’d gotten lost in the first place was because she’d only half been paying attention as she wandered away from the main trail – “you know better. What the hell were you thinking?” she muttered as she looked around for some identifying landmark. “Concentrate.” But that was the problem. She’d arrived at Jamie’s two days ago, and had found that, without the focus and concentration required by her work, she couldn’t keep her mind from drifting to thoughts of Alice. “And Kara,” she reminded herself angrily. In all her years of teaching, she had never crossed the line with a student or resident. Her face burned with guilt every time she thought about it.

  “Come on, you idiot,” she chastised herself, “there’s got to be something here.”

  The deep toll of a bell broke through her self-recrimination. She looked around to figure out which direction the sound was coming from, and began picking her way through the woods toward the bell. It stopped ringing, but she hoped she was still going in the right direction. She had to stop several times as her fly rod got tangled in bushes and undergrowth, but finally, she saw a stone belltower rising from an enclosed cluster of buildings in the next valley.