“Sometimes the careers we choose when we’re young aren’t the right ones for us. You gave up writing, and you had a lot more talent than I did. When I went to L.A., I realized acting and Hollywood weren’t for me.”
“That’s different. I couldn’t do it anymore after Robbie died. Feeling anything was just too painful. I wanted to be numb. You have to feel everything in order to be a decent writer. You can’t run away from the truth. And after Robbie, the truth just hurt too much, that he was gone and I’d never hold him in my arms again. I stopped feeling anything for Carson, or for anyone. It’s why I never blamed him for having an affair. I needed to stop anything I was feeling, for a long time.”
“And now?” Hattie asked, worried about her.
“I love my house, and I’m happy to see you again,” she said. She hadn’t opened the door wide to her, but it had opened a crack, and for now it was enough. “And sitting here like this, you don’t seem like a nun, just the sister I grew up with.”
“Thank you for letting me come,” Hattie said, deeply moved by Melissa’s openness with her.
“I think I needed to see you. It was very strange. The fire that almost took my house was started by an arsonist. When I found out, I hated him. I wanted him to rot in prison for what he’d done. I went to see the arraignment, like going to a public hanging, and all I saw was this terrified seventeen-year-old kid who’s had a terrible life, and is probably very sick. He wasn’t the monster I expected him to be, and as I drove away from the courthouse, I realized that I had forgiven him. He has bigger problems than my hating him, and he’ll probably never have a decent life in a mental hospital or in jail. Hating him was too heavy a burden to carry, and I realized then that I wanted to see you, and I couldn’t blame you forever for becoming a nun. You weren’t part of what happened at Saint Blaise’s. I can’t blame you for that. And if you’re happy with the life you’ve chosen, I don’t understand it, but I’m happy for you, and I’m okay with it.” A tender look passed between them, as Hattie reached out and touched her hand.
“I’m a nurse too, don’t forget that. I love the hospital work I do. My best years were at the orphanage in Kenya. Maybe it was a little bit like this house is for you. Being there healed a lot of my old wounds. I’d like to go back again one day, if they’d send me. But for now I’m satisfied with what I’m doing. And maybe we can see each other from time to time.” Hattie really hoped so. She had missed her so much.
“Do you want to spend the night?” Melissa asked her gently, and Hattie answered with regret.
“I can’t. I promised I’d be back tonight, and I’m on duty at the hospital tomorrow. They’re short-staffed and I can’t let them down.” Melissa nodded, and understood. She was grateful for the time they’d had.
“Next time. I want you to come up again,” Melissa said. “But I’m never going to turn this into a convent retreat,” she said, and they both laughed. It had been an important day for both of them, and explained some things that Hattie had never fully understood before. She was horrified by Melissa’s story about the convent in Ireland where she had given birth to her first baby and given her up. Hattie suspected that it would haunt Melissa until her dying day. She wished that she could do something about it, but it was too late. Melissa had lost both her children, and she had to find a way to live with it. She seemed as though she had, but it had marked her deeply, just as events in Hattie’s life had marked her. Life was like that, and they both knew it. The old wounds healed eventually, but the scars remained. And Melissa was deeply scarred by the baby she had given up at sixteen. There was no guilt involved in Robbie’s death, they had done everything they could for him and it had been a cruel turn of fate. But she would feel forever guilty for giving up a baby girl named Ashley, and allowing the nuns to take her away and sell her to strangers. Her mother had made it happen so she wouldn’t be embarrassed with her friends. There were some things Melissa could never forgive, and Hattie had paid a price for it too. Melissa’s profound hatred of nuns as a result had separated them for years.
They spent the rest of the day walking around the property, and sat at the edge of the stream, with their feet dangling in the cool water. Melissa served her a hearty lunch, and packed some fruit and snacks for her, and a sandwich for the drive back.
They hugged each other and meant it for the first time in years. They had cleared the air, as much as it was possible, and no longer blamed each other for the choices they had made and things they hadn’t done. Some of it just couldn’t be helped. In different ways, their mother’s zealous Catholicism had marked both of them. But in spite of all of it, they still loved each other.
Melissa stood in the driveway and waved as Hattie drove away. It had been a perfect day for both of them, and some old mysteries had been explained and ghosts laid to rest.
Hattie saw her in the rearview mirror as she headed toward the road and waved. Melissa was standing there, still strong and tall and beautiful, as she always had been, no matter how badly she had been injured, or how scarred she was as a result. In all the important ways, she hadn’t changed. They were still sisters. There was only one thing Hattie wished that she could do for her now. It seemed impossible, but maybe it was feasible. As she drove back to New York, thinking of the sister who had done so much for her when they were young, she knew she had to try, no matter how impossible it seemed.
Chapter 4
Hattie had been called Sister Mary Joseph for the last eighteen years, which her sister, Melissa, had continued to ignore. Her friends in the convent called her Mary Joe, and those closest to her simply “Joe,” but her convent life didn’t exist to Melissa. Hattie thought about her older sister constantly for the week after their visit, and sent her an email, telling her what a lovely time she’d had and how much it meant to her. Melissa responded warmly for the first time in years.
Her confessions had brought them closer, and had given Hattie new insights into Melissa. She had known about the baby she had given up for adoption, but had never realized the hell she’d been through while she was away, or that she still mourned the baby girl thirty-three years later, and how deeply she regretted giving her up. She had no idea that Melissa had reached out to the convent, and that finding her now was beyond hope, with all the records destroyed in the cover-up. Hattie didn’t like the sound of it, and hoped that it wasn’t as mercenary and sinister as Melissa thought. It didn’t sound like a proud moment for the Church.
Fearing she would lose her beloved home in the recent fire had humbled Melissa somehow and made her feel vulnerable again, something she hadn’t felt in a long time. She was more open as a result, and grateful to see the sister she had shunned for nearly two decades. Hattie had seemed as sweet and kind and innocent during their visit as she always had been, and Melissa thought about her a lot in the ensuing days.
Hattie was tormented by what she had learned, and finally went to see the mother superior about it. She knew what she wanted to do, but had no idea if they would allow it. It seemed unlikely, but she was a dedicated serious member of their religious community, and had never asked for anything before. She had given all her worldly goods to the Church when she entered the convent, much to her older sister’s disapproval. She had even given up the little she had left of what her parents had left her. She had spent a good part of it on college, as her parents intended, and acting lessons to further her budding career as an actress. But she willingly gave up what she had when she took her vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience. There was a very small trust left that she couldn’t assign to the Church and would go to Melissa or her heirs when Hattie died, and if Melissa had no heirs and predeceased Hattie, only then would the remaining money in the trust go to the Church. Hattie had never touched a penny of it and it was still intact. She had written a will, leaving the small amount in trust to Robbie, and then changed it to Melissa after he died according to the conditions of the trust, and to the
Church, if Melissa didn’t outlive her. Melissa was not in need of money, but it was all Hattie had to leave her. Hattie had never requested to take money out of the trust and intended it all to go to her sister. But if the mother superior allowed her to use it now, it would be a gift of sorts to Melissa in her lifetime, and put to good use.
The mother superior, Mother Elizabeth, was a stern woman, but she cared deeply for the nuns she was responsible for, and was fair, even if strict. The younger nuns were in awe of her, and afraid of the punishments she meted out for serious infractions, but the nuns who’d been there for longer, and were wise to her ways, knew her better and loved her. She was a role model for them all, a traditionalist, but compassionate as well. Hattie had no idea how the older nun would react to what she had to say. She made an appointment to meet with her early one morning, before Hattie left for work. Hattie had thought of the trust on her drive back to New York after she saw Melissa.
“Peace be with you,” the mother superior said as Hattie entered her office, and Mother Elizabeth invited her to sit down. It made Hattie feel like a novice again, or even a postulant. She seemed worried, as the older nun smiled at her. “What can I do for you?” They saw each other constantly, but all of the nuns were busy, most of them were nurses or teachers, and she couldn’t remember Hattie ever asking to see her. She quietly observed the way Sister Mary Joseph fingered the rosary beads at her waist as they spoke.
“I’d like to take a trip, Mother,” Hattie said in a trembling voice. It had been years since she’d been able to make her own decisions and do as she chose, and she knew this was a big request to make.
“A trip?” Mother Elizabeth looked puzzled. “What kind of trip? A retreat of some kind?” She knew how much the younger nun had loved her years in Africa, and wondered if she wanted to go back for a visit. It wouldn’t have surprised her. She had a gift for dealing with young children, and had embraced the ravaged children she had worked with there.
“Not a retreat, Mother. I’d like to go to Ireland.”
“For a vacation?” The location surprised her. They had a house in the Adirondacks where they all spent two weeks in the summer. They swam and played tennis and went for long walks. But none of the nuns went to Europe for a vacation, and certainly not on their own. And this wasn’t a pilgrimage to Lourdes, Jerusalem, or Rome.
“Not a vacation either.” Hattie realized with a sinking heart that there would be no way to convince the mother superior unless she told her the truth, the real reason she wanted to go. “It’s kind of a long story. It’s something I want to do for my sister. She took care of me after our parents died. I was only twelve and I owe her a lot. She had a baby out of wedlock at sixteen. Our parents, really my mother, sent her to Ireland, to a convent there, to have the baby and put it up for adoption. It was thirty-three years ago. She married eventually, at thirty-two, and had a little boy. He died of a brain tumor six years ago. She never recovered. She gave up her marriage and a successful career, and became a recluse. I saw her for the first time in six years two weeks ago, and we talked about the baby she gave up.” Sister Mary Joseph didn’t want to malign the convent in Ireland the way Melissa had, so she was careful about what she said. Mother Elizabeth was a staunch defender of the Church, and their sister nuns all over the world.
“A lot of young girls who got in trouble went to Ireland to disappear for a while, or to England to the mother and baby homes there, as they called them. The convents there were well set up to take care of them, and handled the adoptions for them. It was often the best solution for the girls and their parents. They left their babies there and came home, and resumed their lives, and no one knew what had happened,” the superior explained, “and they placed the infants in good homes, from what I’ve heard. The English mother and baby homes were often privately owned and not run as responsibly.”
“That’s pretty much what happened to my sister at the convent in Ireland. Except now she has lost her son, and the baby she gave up. She tried to contact the convent, to see if she could meet her daughter now, as an adult. She’d be thirty-three years old, but she was told that all the records have been destroyed by a fire. She has no way of finding out where her daughter is. She was adopted by Americans. That’s all she knows. And that they were going to call her Ashley. It was all she was told about them.”
“I’m sure the nuns in Ireland who handled those adoptions chose good parents for her. She can be assured of that,” the mother superior said through pursed lips.
“Even the state has changed their rules about not contacting the children women gave up for adoption. Many people have found their birth parents through the Internet. But there is no way for my sister to find out anything if the records were destroyed.” Hattie didn’t imply that Melissa believed the fire was intentional, but the superior seemed to know about it.
“I’ve heard stories that the records were destroyed. I think the nuns in charge of those convents thought it was for the best, to let the past stay buried. Many people never even told their children that they were adopted in those days. And many of those young girls never told their husbands and subsequent children that they’d given up a baby for adoption when they were teenagers. The truth can cause a great deal of damage.”
“My sister says she told her husband before they got married. And she’s alone now. I think it would help her recover from her losses if I could find out something about her daughter and put her mind at rest. Mother, I’d like to go to Ireland and visit the convent where she gave the baby up, near Dublin, and maybe some of the other convents, to see if any of those records survived or any of the nuns remember something about her.”
“It’s a needle in a haystack, Sister Mary Joe,” the superior said with a disapproving look. “And if you did find something out, what if it disrupts her daughter’s life to have her birth mother show up? The records were destroyed with good reason, and undoubtedly a great deal of thought.” But Hattie wondered what they were thinking now. Was Melissa right? Had they only destroyed the records to protect the Church? Melissa had called those convents baby mills, that had been run for profit, not just with good motives to provide babies for childless couples to adopt. All of the adopting couples had been rich, according to her sister, and a great deal of money had ended up in the hands of the Church. But she didn’t say that to Mother Elizabeth, or Hattie knew she’d turn her down. She didn’t want to make trouble for the convents. All she wanted was to help her sister find the baby she had given up, and had regretted all her life. Or at least find out something about where the baby had gone.
“I’m not proposing to make contact with her daughter, if I’m lucky enough to find out where she is, or where she went. I just want to find the information. It will be up to my sister after that. She may not have the courage to contact her, but at least she would know something about her, who adopted her and where she grew up.”
“I’m not sure I believe in raising the ghosts of the past,” Mother Elizabeth said. But she could see the distress in Hattie’s eyes and how much she cared about her sister. “And how would you propose to pay for the trip? We don’t have funds for anything like that, and I can’t justify it to the bishop on our books. I suppose your sister would be willing to pay for the trip.”
Hattie shook her head. “She doesn’t know that I want to go. I don’t want to raise her hopes, and then disappoint her if I can’t find anything out.”
“Which is more than likely,” Mother Elizabeth reminded her.
“I have a small trust left from my parents. I wasn’t able to transfer it to the Church. I had to follow the conditions of the trust. I left it for the benefit of my nephew when I took my vows, and to my sister, if anything happened to him. I’ve never touched it, and it could cover the trip.”
“And how long would this take?”
“Maybe a few weeks. I could go when all the sisters go to the lake house in the Adirondack
s, if you allow it.” The superior sat silently for several minutes, thinking, while Hattie waited, praying that she would look favorably on the request.
“This is a very unusual proposal, Sister. I’d have to send you alone. I can’t spare anyone to go with you. We need all the younger sisters to help with the older ones at the lake. And I want to remind you of how quickly people jump to criticize the Church, unjustly. There have been stories about those convents, trying to malign them, claiming there was greed and profit involved. I am certain that’s not true. Only grateful people donating honestly to the Church. I don’t want you getting caught up in any controversy, or becoming confused about our motives and theirs. Those nuns who ran the convents that took those young girls in provided a loving service to all concerned, homes for the babies no one wanted, and a place where the unwed mothers could take refuge, to spare their reputations, and their families’. The couples who were unable to have children of their own went home with an infant in their arms, to give them a solid future and a good life. The motives involved were entirely pure. But I also understand your wish to help your sister find her way back from a very dark place. Losing her son must have been heartbreaking for her. Did their marriage recover?”
Hattie shook her head in answer. “He left her and married someone else. She didn’t fight it. She was frozen in grief at the time, and she’s alone.” Hattie had the feeling that if Melissa had remarried, Mother Elizabeth wouldn’t have looked favorably on the request. She didn’t want to indulge curiosity or a whim, but she was willing to help heal the broken heart of a mother who had lost both husband and son. And maybe, as Hattie hoped, this would help, although nothing would bring her sister’s son back, or turn back the clock for the baby girl she’d given up. But perhaps the truth would free her aching heart. It was the only reason Mother Elizabeth would allow Sister Mary Joseph to go.
Finding Ashley Page 6