Melissa took them to their bedrooms, and the children dove onto their beds with feather comforters and the brightly colored quilts. There was an antique canopy bed in Michaela and David’s bedroom. The house shone with all the burnished wood that Melissa had hand-waxed herself, and the doors she had sanded that summer.
“The house is so beautiful!” Michaela exclaimed, and Melissa beamed.
“Norm and I have worked hard on it. I did a lot of the work myself.”
“She’s become a master carpenter and cabinetmaker in the past four years,” he teased her, but it was true. She had taken classes in furniture making. The desk in her office looked like an antique, but she had made it herself. She was proud of every inch of the house and everything in it. It was a labor of love, which David and Michaela appreciated. Before starting dinner, Norm took Andrew and Alexandra outside and built a snowman with them. He’d had plenty of practice with his five nephews over the years.
Michaela sat in the kitchen with her mother after she unpacked, and David went outside to join Norm and the children.
“This place is fantastic.” Michaela admired everything around her. They had restored it as closely as they could to the original. It looked like an authentic Victorian home, with the finest pieces of the period, and all the comforts of a modern house.
“It kind of became my obsession,” Melissa said sheepishly, but the results were what she had envisioned. “It was part of the healing process for me when I left New York. I learned a lot from Norm about craftsmanship and restoration.”
The children were wet and happy, and their snowman was as tall as their father when they came inside when it got dark. It had started snowing, and made the place look like a Christmas card. Melissa had music playing on the stereo, the tree was lit, and Norm poured wine for the adults and started dinner. He had done all the prep work before they came. The meal he cooked for them that night was superb. He had his spaghetti Bolognese for the kids, delicate sole meuniere for the adults, with flawless mashed potatoes and tiny Brussels sprouts. They had cold crab to start, and chocolate and caramel soufflés for dessert. David and Michaela were in awe of his cooking, and said that it was better than any restaurant in L.A.
“He’s an incredible chef,” Melissa said, smiling at him, and leaned over to kiss him, as the children giggled. They had opened their gifts before dinner and loved them all. Melissa had bought a handsome heavy navy blue sweater for David, and a soft, off-white cashmere one for Michaela.
After dinner, they sat by the fire, while the children played quietly with their iPads, and then the visitors went upstairs to bed when they got sleepy, and Melissa helped Norm clean up the kitchen.
“Your dinner was a huge hit,” she thanked him. “David’s right. You should open a restaurant,” she said, as they put the clean pots away.
“I’d rather cook for people I love,” he said happily. “I’m trying out a new recipe tomorrow for Southern fried chicken, bouillabaisse to start, and chocolate cake for dessert, Sacher torte from Vienna, with whipped cream.”
“I’m going to get fat if you stick around.”
“No, you won’t. And I plan to stick around,” he told her, as they turned out the lights and left the kitchen, and they went back to sit in front of the fire. He didn’t want to leave her, but agreed that it was the right thing. He didn’t want to shock the kids.
Michaela told her about her job the next day, when they went for a long walk. There was a foot of snow on the ground from the night before, and it looked like the trees were covered in lace. Michaela was dedicated to her work, and enjoyed it, and she liked the contrast to the life she had grown up in, with Marla, and David’s clients, whom she met with him occasionally.
They took the children skating that afternoon, and the next day they were planning to go skiing. When they did, Melissa and Michaela stayed with the children, while David and Norm took off, and raced down the slopes together. David was faster, and still an expert skier, but Norm loved the sport and could hold his own.
Melissa thought of Hattie in Vermont, and wished that she could call her. She was worried about how she was after giving her testimony to the police. More names had been added to the list of sex offenders, and several more shows had been canceled. A number of politicians had recently been accused too. David said he thought it was going to touch every sector of business before it was over. Michaela said that Marla’s co-star in the next movie had been replaced at the last minute. It was a major purge. Hattie’s story wasn’t unusual, and many girls much younger than she had been assaulted. A famous child star had come forward, in her late teens now, and said that she’d been raped when she was twelve by a highly respected director, whose films were blackballed immediately. Two of the films favored currently for Oscars had been taken out of the running, because both the director and the male lead had been accused of rape. The entertainment industry had been hit hardest so far, but it was slowly seeping into other areas, and causing shock waves, in big business too. Men on Wall Street were running scared. Inevitably, there were some false accusations by dishonest women hungry for attention, but for the most part, the stories had the ring of truth, and even more shocking, the perpetrators were making no attempt to deny it. They had all been caught red-handed by angry women who had been assaulted by them in some way.
Their time together went too quickly. Every day was packed with fun outings and adventures. Breakfast was lively and fun for Melissa. It reminded her of Robbie when he was that age. They ate lunch on the run. At night, Norm cooked memorable gourmet meals for them. Michaela asked him for some of his recipes. She wanted to try them herself when she went home, when she had the time.
On the last night, Melissa brought up the idea of their going on a trip together in the summer, to Italy or France or both. They loved the idea.
“Marla invited us to go on safari with her, but I think the kids are too young,” Michaela said thoughtfully. “A trip to Italy and France sounds like fun and would be easier.”
“We could rent a house somewhere, maybe at a beach, and go on a driving trip together,” David suggested.
“We could even invite Marla to come,” Melissa added, although she suspected that Marla would say a driving trip would be a bore. Michaela said she visited friends in Saint-Jean-Cap-Ferrat on the Riviera every summer, and some of her friends owned yachts or chartered them, but that wasn’t a safe trip for young children either. Marla’s summer plans were always more geared to adults.
“I’ll check the Internet for rentals in Europe,” David promised.
Melissa would have liked to invite her sister to come with them, but she doubted that the convent would let her.
On the last morning, they all had breakfast together. Their suitcases were packed, and the children were wearing warm clothes for the trip back. They could peel off some of the layers once they took off. It was warm in L.A.
Their snowman was still intact on the front lawn, and Melissa said it would remind her of them after they left.
After breakfast, the van for the airport arrived, and Michaela thanked her warmly for a wonderful time.
“We all had so much fun. And I think I gained ten pounds. Nobody will want to eat my cooking after Norm’s.”
Melissa hugged her, Norm and David brought the bags down, and a few minutes later, with frantic waves and shouted goodbyes, they took off for Boston to catch their flight.
Melissa looked forlorn when they went back inside. Norm put on a fresh pot of coffee, and she looked at him sadly.
“I wish they didn’t live so far away. I loved having them here.” There were tears in her eyes. Now that she had Michaela in her life, she wanted to spend more time with her, but living in Los Angeles, she wouldn’t see them often. Melissa loved the idea of a vacation together in the summer. She wanted to see her and watch her children grow up. It all went too fast, and she had learned that yo
u never knew what would happen. Sometimes the future was not as long as you hoped. She tried not to think about the fact that Robbie was only two years older than Andrew when he got sick.
“You’ll see them again soon,” Norm tried to console her. He pulled her onto his lap and kissed her. “I’ve missed you, alone in my bed at night,” he grumbled good-naturedly. “What would we do on a trip? Would we have to have separate rooms?” He didn’t like that idea. She hadn’t thought about it when she suggested the trip.
“They’re used to you now. And Michaela and David are very relaxed. I didn’t want to shock anybody, but I think we could share a room when we travel.”
“Well, that’s good news,” he teased her. He didn’t suggest doing anything more radical about it. He didn’t know how she’d react to it, and it was much too soon. And the summer was a long time away.
He followed her upstairs after breakfast. It was Sunday, and she wanted to go for a walk. He wasn’t going back to work after the holiday until the next day, so they had a full day together now that everyone had left. They hadn’t been alone for four days.
He waylaid her in her closet, putting on her coat, and stopped her.
“Can I make a suggestion?”
“Sure,” she said innocently, not guessing what it was. He unbuttoned her coat after she had buttoned it.
“How about a little nap before we go out?” he said, looking mischievous.
“A nap? I’m not tired. We just got up,” she said, saw the look in his eye, and laughed. “Oh, a nap!” He kissed her then, she dropped her coat on the floor, and they walked into her bedroom. He had been very circumspect while her family was there, but they were alone in the house now and he couldn’t wait to get her clothes off and make love to her.
They jumped into her bed together, while they laughed and kissed, and dropped their clothes on the floor. He was starving for her, as he demonstrated amply, and their walk in the orchard was forgotten.
Chapter 15
Sister Mary Joseph stayed at the retreat house in Vermont for two weeks, until she couldn’t stand it any longer. She was longing to talk to someone, and hear someone else’s thoughts instead of the voice in her own head. Two weeks of silence had been challenging. She sent Mother Elizabeth an email at the end of two weeks and told her she wanted to come home. And the mother superior emailed her back and told her she could come home whenever she wanted to. She was free to leave. She wasn’t incarcerated there or being punished, although it had felt that way.
She emailed Melissa the morning she left, and told her she was going back to the city, and could speak again. The silent retreat had ended. The entire house followed a vow of silence, which Hattie had found extremely trying. In all her years in the convent she had never done that before, except for a day or a few hours. Two weeks of it had nearly driven her crazy. She knew that some people liked it and found it restful, but she wasn’t one of them. They had people come there from Boston and New York, not in religious orders, to do silent retreats. It made Hattie feel more anxious, but as she packed her small bag to go home, she knew what she wanted to tell Mother Elizabeth. So maybe the retreat had served its purpose to help her know her own mind.
The drive back to the city took six hours on snowy roads. There was a shuttle that traveled between various convents, when people signed up for them. They had sent one for Hattie. The driver was extremely cautious, and Hattie thought it made the trip home even longer than it had to be. She was grateful when she saw the lights of the city. She felt a lot better now than she had when she’d left. She had felt paralyzed by the intense police interrogation, and all she wanted was to disappear for a while. Now that she had, she was ready to return, and couldn’t wait to get back to work at the hospital. She longed for normal life again, and the trauma of the rape had receded back into memory, and didn’t seem quite so vivid. She felt back in control as she walked up the familiar steps of the convent. The other nuns were happy to see her. She unpacked her bag, and was wearing jeans and a sweatshirt when she went down to dinner. The first person she saw in the refectory was Mother Elizabeth.
“Welcome back.” The superior smiled at her. She could see immediately in her eyes that Hattie was feeling better. She wondered if she had come to some kind of decision. “How was it?” Mother Elizabeth asked with a look of interest.
“Long,” Hattie answered, and they both laughed. “I would never have made it in a silent order.”
“Neither would I,” Mother Elizabeth admitted, “but it does one good from time to time.” Hattie was just glad it was over. “Why don’t you come and see me in the morning and we’ll talk about it.” She wanted to know how Hattie was feeling now, and what she was thinking. Speaking up about the rape had been a painful revelation. “I’ll expect you at seven-thirty, after breakfast.” Hattie agreed and went to help herself to dinner, and the other nuns had joined them when she came back with her tray and sat down. She already knew what she was going to tell the superior in the morning. She had made the decision at the retreat house in Vermont.
She dreamt of it that night, woke at four a.m., dressed for Mass, and went to the chapel early so she could pray about it.
She ate half a bowl of oatmeal after Mass, and hurried to the superior’s office. Mother Elizabeth was already at her desk, when Hattie knelt and kissed her ring.
“Good morning, Sister Mary Joe.” She was in her nursing habit, ready for work, as Mother Elizabeth peered over her glasses at her. “You may sit down.” Hattie slid into a chair facing her across the desk, like a schoolgirl. “It’s nice to have you back. Is there something you want to tell me?” Hattie nodded, cowed by her for a minute, and quickly told herself she was doing the right thing.
“I prayed about it a lot while I was in Vermont. I want to leave, Mother.”
“Under what circumstances, and to where?”
“I want to be released from my vows and go back to Africa.” The superior had expected it and wasn’t surprised. The relief on the younger nun’s face had suggested to her that she was going to ask to be released from her vows.
“What makes you think that’s the right answer?” she challenged her.
“I feel better since I made the decision.”
Mother Elizabeth nodded, unconvinced. She had heard it all before from others, and in her opinion, leaving the convent was never the right answer. She had thought of it once when she was younger herself, after a disagreement with her own mother superior.
“You don’t have to give up your vows to go to Africa. We can send you there again if you want. Giving up one’s vows is not about geography, or changing jobs. It’s about no longer believing in the principles you promised to uphold. Are you upset with either poverty, chastity, or obedience?” she asked her pointedly, and Hattie shook her head.
“No, Mother, I’m not. I think something happened to my faith in the Church after what I discovered at Saint Blaise’s. Their adoption mill was a scheme to make money for the Church.”
“And to find good homes for abandoned babies born out of wedlock. What’s so wrong about that?”
“They treated it like a business.”
“There may have been some unfortunate actions by the Sisters who ran it, but the motives were right. And to be crass about it, those infants were better off in rich homes than poor ones.”
“True. But poor people should have been able to adopt them too, not just rich ones.”
“Do you know for a fact they weren’t?”
“No, I don’t,” Hattie admitted. “The whole thing seems like such a mess, and burning the records was unforgivable.”
“That was wrong, I’ll grant you. But none of it is adequate reason for you to break your vows.”
“I came here for the wrong reasons, Mother. We both know that now. I lied about my vocation.”
“And can you truly say you haven’t had a vocation
in eighteen years? I doubt that, I’ve seen you work. I know your heart. You’re a good nun, Sister.”
“Thank you,” Hattie said humbly.
“I have a suggestion for you. Take a year’s leave, on a sabbatical, and go to Africa. We’ll put you in one of our missions there, or a hospital. See in a year if you still want to be released from your vows. If you’re sure of it then, I won’t oppose it.”
“And will you oppose it now?” Hattie looked worried.
“No. But I won’t help you. I don’t think you’re doing the right thing. You need to take more time to decide. That’s a very important decision.”
“I know it is. I’ve been thinking about it for months.”
“I think that ex-nun you talked to in Ireland influenced you, and demoralized you.”
“I don’t agree.” But a small part of Hattie thought the superior might be right. Fiona Eckles had been so angry at the Church, and had predicted that in the end it would make Hattie want to break her vows too. Maybe she was right. But for Hattie, the decision was spawned by many things, not just the Church making money from an adoption mill.
“I’d like you to give my suggestion some thought. A year’s sabbatical before you make a final decision, and then we’ll talk. And you can spend the year in Africa, doing the work you love. You can pick the location.”
“I’d like to go back to Kenya, if you agree.”
“It’s not up to me,” Mother Elizabeth reminded her. “The bishop approves the postings.”
“I’ll think about it,” Hattie said, disappointed. She didn’t want to be put off. She wanted to make a decision. And she knew she didn’t have to be a nun to go to Africa. She had researched it, and there were other organizations that had hospitals and programs there. She could sign up for one, she was a registered nurse. It was easier for her with the Church of course. But she was sure that other humanitarian organizations would accept her.
“Take your time with the decision, Sister. It’s important. You’ve invested eighteen years of your life here. Don’t just throw that away. Get the demons out of your head, and their voices.” She was making a strong case for Hattie remaining a nun, and even though she felt guilty leaving, she wasn’t sure that she wanted to stay. “You’ve been on a roller-coaster ride for the past few months, finding your sister’s daughter, the sexual harassment accusations, and your rape surfacing. That was the catalyst that brought you in here, seeking safety. It’s not what made you stay.”
Finding Ashley Page 19
