A few days after her conversation with Greg, Mickey was at the hospital, visiting a patient who had been admitted for a knee replacement, when she heard her name. She turned to see one of the hospital’s maintenance men. He ran his hand nervously through his blond crew cut as he approached her.
“You were working in the cafeteria the other day,” she recalled.
He grinned and nodded. “I’m Hank Matthews.” He was caught off-guard when Mickey let go of her crutch and extended her hand to him. Hesitantly, he reached out and shook it. She could feel the calluses on his large hand.
“What can I do for you, Hank?”
“Well, I hope you won’t think I was listening on purpose, but I heard you talking to Dr. Allenby that day in the cafeteria, and…” He gestured down the corridor in the direction from which he had come. “I’ve got something to show you, if you have a few minutes.”
Puzzled, Mickey accompanied him to a maintenance workshop she’d never noticed.
“I may need to change some things,” Hank said as he led Mickey to a tilted wooden platform, fitted with pads covered with vinyl upholstery. “Get on,” he prompted when Mickey looked at him. She saw there was a foot plate to support her feet as she leaned her knees and hips against the pads. The pads supported her perfectly. “My wife is about your height, so I asked her to keep trying it out to get the pads right,” he said modestly. “I didn’t know how high to build it,” he said, getting more excited, “so I made the upper part removable.” He showed Mickey how the chest piece could be slid out of the main body of the platform. “But in case you do need this part, I cut the edges in so you can move your arms.” He indicated the curved sides of the chest piece. “Is the angle all right? To hold you over an operating table? I could adjust it…”
His voice faltered as Mickey got off the platform and turned away. She swiped her hand across her cheeks and coughed to clear her throat. “Hank, why in the world would you go to all this trouble?” she asked, her back still to him.
“My wife remembers you when the Mother Superior was in the hospital,” he answered, almost reverently. “She said you wouldn’t leave her bedside, and you hardly ate anything –”
“Tammy?” Mickey recalled, turning to face him. “Tammy Matthews is your wife – from dietary?” He nodded. Mickey laughed a little. “I remember – she kept bringing me different things, trying to get me to eat.”
“Well then,” he stammered, getting red in the face, “we all heard about the fire, and how you got hurt pulling one of the other nuns out. Kenny, the guy who did the electrical work out there, used to work here with us.” He looked down at his dusty workboots. “He was fired because he did such sloppy work.” He scuffed one boot against a small pile of sawdust on the concrete floor. “Anyway, when I heard you saying how you couldn’t lean over the operating table now, I got to thinking, and…” he waved a hand at the platform. “If it’s not gonna work, you don’t have to –”
“Are you kidding?” Mickey laughed. “Can we go try it out?”
Now, after her first successful surgery on Hank’s tilted platform, Mickey checked on the hernia patient one last time, then she changed and was walking toward the staff exit to the parking lot. The metallic click of her crutches echoed a little in the tiled corridor.
“Dr. Stewart?”
She turned to see Tammy and Hank Matthews coming toward her. Hank was holding an envelope in his hands. “Dr. Stewart, we can’t accept this,” he said as they got near.
“Why not?” Mickey asked, afraid she had offended them somehow.
“It’s too much,” said Tammy.
Mickey smiled. “It’s one weekend away, just the two of you, at an inn at the Finger Lakes. You probably haven’t done anything for yourselves in ages.” She laid a hand on Hank’s shoulder. “You literally saved my career. Please let me do this one small thing for you.”
They looked at each other and eventually nodded.
“Good!” Mickey said. “I want to hear all about it when you get back… well, maybe not everything,” she added impishly as they both blushed.
╬ ╬ ╬
“Is that everyone?” Mickey asked Sister Mary David as she began packing up her stethoscope and unused gloves.
Her visits to the abbey had been well-received by the community. Over the past few weeks, she had treated several of the sisters for a variety of conditions. Some were as benign as hay allergies in one of the new postulants, but some situations were more serious. Sister Cecilia had finally admitted to having chest pain with the exertion of carrying some of the heavier pots in the kitchen. Mickey was ordering a cardiac catheterization for her as soon as it could be scheduled.
“I believe so,” Sister Mary David replied, pulling aside the curtain they used to give Mickey a private exam space within the infirmary. “Sister Scholastica,” she said in surprise. “I didn’t realize you were here.”
Mickey wheeled around on the stool she used to maneuver within the infirmary.
“I don’t… I shouldn’t…” Sister Scholastica stuttered. She started to turn around, but Sister Mary David deftly blocked her exit.
“You’re here now,” she said calmingly, taking her elbow and steering her toward the exam cubicle. “I’ll leave you to talk to Dr. Stewart privately,” she said as she pulled the curtain closed.
Mickey looked up at Sister Scholastica who still stood, her hands tucked into her sleeves. “Please, sit down,” she gestured to the chair opposite.
Sister Scholastica sat on the edge of the seat, stiff and tense, staring at the floor. Her face was pale, except for a red blotch on each cheek.
“What is it, Sister?” Mickey asked gently.
When Sister Scholastica raised her gaze, Mickey was startled to see the fear there – “I’ve seen many emotions in those eyes, but I never thought I’d see fear,” was Mickey’s immediate reaction.
“Sister?” Mickey prompted again.
“I… I have a lump in my breast that probably should be examined.”
Mickey opened and closed her mouth a couple of times. “How long ago did you find it?” she asked at last.
“I don’t remember exactly,” Sister Scholastica responded. “Probably three or four months ago.”
Mickey quickly decided against lecturing her about the folly of waiting so long. “Has it gotten bigger?”
Sister Scholastica nodded and said in a matter-of-fact voice, “My mother and grandmother both died of breast cancer.”
Mickey felt the goosebumps as a chill settled over her – the same chill she always got when she knew a bad diagnosis ahead of time. “Are you sure you’re comfortable with me examining you?” she asked even more gently. “I could arrange –”
“No,” Sister Scholastica interrupted. “No, Sister – I mean Doctor.” She raised her gaze to Mickey’s again. “I trust you.”
Mickey bowed her head. “All right. I’ll have you change into a gown,” she said as she gathered her crutches and struggled to her feet. “I’ll return when you’re ready.”
Outside the cubicle, she found Sister Mary David waiting for her. “I’m going to need you,” she said quietly.
When Sister Scholastica was ready, they entered the cubicle together. With Sister Scholastica lying on the bed there, Mickey scooted her stool near and carefully pulled aside the gown to expose only as much as she needed for her exam. As she feared, the lump was large, and felt as if it extended deep into the breast tissue.
“I’m going to order a mammogram and an ultrasound to be done this week,” Mickey said as she covered Sister Scholastica again. “I can’t be certain without those results, but this is most likely going to require a mastectomy. Probably both sides with your family history.”
Sister Scholastica nodded stoically. “You’ll do it?”
Mickey searched her face. Sister Scholastica’s features were still sharp, hawkish, but there was an expression of trust in her eyes that Mickey had never seen before. “I will if that’s what you want.”
/>
“I do.” Sister Scholastica sat up. “This will remain confidential?” she asked, sounding much more like her usual self.
“Except for Mother,” Mickey replied. “She should be told.”
Sister Scholastica nodded. “Yes. I’ll go to her at once.”
After Sister Scholastica had left, Sister Mary David said, “I’ve been infirmarian for over ten years, and that is the first time she has ever sought medical care at all that I know of. She always has some excuse for avoiding check-ups.”
“I can’t believe she came to me, of all people,” Mickey said wonderingly. “After everything that happened before… it seems like a miracle.”
Sister Mary David smiled. “Miracles happen all around us if we just take the time to see them. You should know that.”
Chapter 47
Jamie looked out the kitchen window at the sound of tires skidding on the gravel driveway. “We don’t need a doorbell to know you’ve arrived,” he teased as Mickey and Lauren came in. Lauren carried a bowl of tomato salad into the kitchen and put it in the refrigerator.
“Sorry,” Mickey grinned. “I’m still getting used to the hand controls. Whatever is grilling outside smells fantastic.”
“Thanks. I’m cooking chicken and steaks. They’ve been marinating since last night. Hope you like the taste.”
“Hi,” Jennifer said as she came down the stairs. “I thought I heard Speed Racer arrive,” she smiled, coming over to hug both of them.
“Did you just get in?” Lauren asked as she and Mickey seated themselves on the sofa.
“Yes, about an hour ago,” replied Jennifer. “The train is working out really well. And my boss has been very understanding about letting me work from home. Luckily a lot of my research can be done on the internet. I’ve only had to go in one or two days a week. I brought home some pieces to show you. Fourteenth century Italian and we think tenth century Irish.”
“Really?” Lauren’s face lit up.
“After dinner,” Jamie commanded. “Otherwise you two will disappear for hours.”
“And I’m hungry,” Mickey chimed in.
“You’re always hungry,” Lauren laughed.
“Well, I’ve been working up an appetite,” Mickey defended herself.
“Oh?” Jennifer responded in an innocent tone, but with a wicked gleam in her eyes as she looked from Mickey to Lauren.
Jamie snorted with laughter as Mickey’s face turned scarlet and Lauren sat back with her arms folded, eyebrows raised.
“I meant because I’m getting busier at work,” Mickey tried to extricate herself.
Jennifer came around the sofa and hugged Mickey from behind on her way to the kitchen. “You don’t have to explain. We’re happy for you no matter where your appetite is coming from.”
“I’ll go turn the meat,” Jamie said, still laughing as he went out to the grill.
“Sorry,” Mickey murmured when they had both left. “I can’t help that reaction. And I’m a horrible liar.”
“I’ll remember that,” Lauren said, sliding closer to Mickey on the couch. “Actually, I’m not as uncomfortable as I thought I’d be. They’re so easy to be around.” She reached over for Mickey’s hand. “I like not having to hide.”
As if to prove her point, Lauren surprised Mickey by remaining where she was when Jamie came back inside.
“Everything should be ready soon,” he announced.
“I’ll set the table,” Lauren volunteered.
Within a few minutes, they were all seated at the table.
“How was the doctor’s appointment last week?” Mickey asked as she cut her steak.
“She said everything looks good,” Jennifer answered, passing the salad bowl to Jamie. “The ultrasound was fine, and I’ve only gained five pounds since my last appointment.”
“And you still don’t know if it’s a boy or girl?” Lauren asked.
“No,” Jamie smiled. “We want to be surprised.” He turned to Mickey. “We’re turning your old room into the nursery for now.”
“What about the addition?” Mickey looked up from her plate.
“We decided to wait. If we started now, we’d still be in the middle of all the construction mess when we bring the baby home.”
“Any decisions on names?” Mickey asked.
Jamie and Jennifer looked at each other with expressions equal parts amusement and exasperation. “It’s an ongoing discussion,” Jennifer said diplomatically.
Deciding it was a good time to change the subject, Jamie turned to Mickey. “How have your visits to the abbey been going?”
“Really well. It’s strange to be back there. I wasn’t sure what kind of reception to expect,” she said. Remembering her visit with Sister Scholastica, she added, “but I feel like I’m meant to be there in this role.”
Jennifer looked at Lauren. “Have you been back yet?” She thought she saw a shadow pass over Mickey’s face, but it was just a flicker and then it was gone.
“I have an appointment to see Mother Theodora next Tuesday,” Lauren replied. “It’s been nearly a year since I last saw her. I have to admit I’m a little nervous. There are a few details of my gift to the abbey that we need to talk about.”
After dinner, Mickey and Jamie went out to the barn to see his latest sculpture while Jennifer and Lauren went upstairs to look at the vestments Jennifer had brought home.
“Oh, Jennifer,” Lauren breathed in awe, “these are exquisite.”
“Aren’t they?” Jennifer smiled. “All most people see is the damage, but I knew you would appreciate the workmanship. We think this Italian piece may have traveled to Avignon with one of the popes during that period. And this Irish vestment,” she held up a much less ornate and more fragile piece of embroidered linen, “was found not too long ago in the cellar of an Irish monastery. Are you interested in restoring them?”
“Absolutely.” Lauren bent to get a closer look at the fine stitches still visible through centuries of dirt and water damage.
Jennifer watched Lauren’s skillful hands as they gently probed some of the broken threads. “I don’t mean to pry,” she said hesitantly, “but is Mickey upset or worried about your visit with Mother Theodora next week?”
Lauren sat back in her chair and looked at Jennifer. “You picked up on that?”
Jennifer nodded.
Lauren frowned a little. “I think part of her still worries that she pulled me away from my vocation.”
Jennifer looked puzzled. “She’s afraid you’ll want to go back to St. Bridget’s?”
“It’s the opposite of being afraid I’ll leave her; she’s afraid I won’t. She thinks I feel so guilty about her injuries that I wouldn’t be open to hearing that call if it were still there.”
Jennifer’s protective instinct prompted her to ask, “Is she right?”
Lauren looked past Jennifer, considering her response. “I don’t know if I can explain it in a way that anyone else can understand. If I had never met her, I could easily have lived the rest of my life at the abbey. St. Bridget’s, and Mother Theodora, gave me the chance to rebuild a shattered life into one with meaning, and I was content there.” She shifted her gaze back, and Jennifer was struck by the hypnotic quality of those grey eyes. “But when I met Michele, my entire world changed. She’s not good in a saintly way, not like Mother. She got into trouble, she swore and was very unmonastic at times,” Lauren remembered with a tender smile, “but underneath that is a person of such incredible goodness that my heart could burst trying to contain all the love I feel for her.”
Lauren was usually so reticent in discussing anything personal that Jennifer was unprepared for this unabashed outpouring of emotion.
Lauren continued, “She forgave horrible wrongs aimed at her, more than once, giving even the holiest women in the abbey an example they would have a hard time emulating. She sacrificed herself for days when Mother had her accident and again when we were all ill. She nearly gave her life saving mine, and it didn’t h
ave to be me – she would have done it for any of the others. She gives of herself more completely than anyone I have ever known.” Lauren seemed to have a little trouble continuing as her voice cracked slightly. “I don’t know what I ever did to deserve to be the next one she loved after your sister, but… I adore her. I will not feel called back to St. Bridget’s because the contentment I knew there pales in comparison to the joy I feel at being around her. How do I tell her that just being with her is the greatest blessing I have ever known?”
Lauren and Jennifer both jumped at the sound of Mickey’s crutches in the hallway. Jamie was standing at the door, looking in the direction of the stairs where they could hear Mickey’s uneven footsteps as she descended.
“I think you just did,” Jamie said quietly.
╬ ╬ ╬
Lauren was at her loom when she heard Mickey’s car pull into the new garage. A few minutes later, the door to the workshop opened, and Mickey came in.
“Hi,” Lauren smiled as she looked up. “How was your day?”
“It was good,” Mickey replied, coming over to sit next to Lauren like she used to at St. Bridget’s. “We did a double mastectomy on… a patient with breast cancer, and I think we got everything,” she said as her eyes tried to follow the rapid movements of Lauren’s hands.
“I’ve been meaning to ask you,” Lauren glanced at her curiously, “when you operate now, is it any different from the way you used to? Before the abbey?”
Mickey reached up to run her hand over Lauren’s blond hair. “I always remember the way you prayed before Mother’s operation, and now I say a similar prayer before every procedure.” She paused. “I never make the mistake any more of thinking I’m in charge. What are you making?”
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