Mother’s hand flew to her chest. “Oh my word, dear, I don’t really like the idea of you riding the bus home in the dark.”
“I didn’t. A very nice gentleman dropped me home.”
“Sister Abigail,” she admonished. “Who is this man?”
I filled her in; however, I left the part out about Ryder being gorgeous, and his friend almost equally so, and she relaxed... sort of.
“Well, it sounds like you met a nice person. However, I would caution you to avoid bars in the future.”
I giggled. “I have no problem with that.”
“Since you’re home so soon, how about we sit down and have a chat.”
“Ah, sure.” I followed her into her office and sat across from her. I was a little nervous, which was silly. She’d been the only mother I’d known since I was eight, and she was always kind, but she seemed really tense tonight.
“I won’t bore you with the suspense,” she said. “I will get right to the point. I think it’s time you went out on your own.”
“I’m sorry?”
She smiled. “You are not cut out to be a nun, Sister—and I don’t say that as a criticism. I truly don’t believe you’re called to this life.”
“But—”
She raised a hand, cutting me off. “This life isn’t meant for everyone, dear. There are sacrifices and requirements that I don’t think you’ll ever be ready for.”
“Am I not committed enough? I can do better.”
“Sweetheart,” she breathed out, standing and making her way to me. She sat down in the chair beside mine and took my hand. “No one, least of all me, could or would ever question your commitment to God and your students. You are a gifted teacher and you’re a beautiful soul…but you still cannot tell me why you chose to commit to this life.”
I felt my back stiffen. She and I had spoken about this several times, but my answer never seemed to appease her. Deciding to take one more stab at it, I said, “Because I love it here and this is where I want to be.”
“But have you prayed about it? Do you honestly feel you’ve been called to this life? When was the last time you went to confession?”
Each one of her questions felt like a dagger to my heart, because I knew she was right.
She sighed. “Oh, dear girl, you’re so busy traveling down this road you didn’t even stop and ask for directions.” Reverend Mother ran her palm across the top of my hand. “Have you ever felt the calling on your life?”
Did I? I didn’t know anymore. Maybe I never knew. I blinked back tears. “I don’t know how to live outside of these walls, Mother. I have a little money saved, but I doubt it’s enough to live on for very long.”
“You have your trust fund.”
I shook my head. “I gave that to the church.”
“The church didn’t take it.”
“What?” I gasped. “Why not?”
“Because you were eighteen years old. You’d spent ten years learning how to live without your parents and you fell into the role you currently serve. But you didn’t really choose it... you settled for it. It was the balm that soothed the wound of your parents’ death, but it’s not really living, sweetheart. I knew that one day we’d have this conversation, so I kept the money in your name.”
Mother Superior was in fact my great aunt on my mother’s side. Only ten years older than my own mom and barely hitting her sixties, she looked much, much younger. As my only living relative, she’d taken me in (and loved me) when my parents had been killed. At only eight years old I’d survived the accident, although I’d been in a coma for a few days and required several months of physical therapy. She’d been at my side the entire time.
I sank further into the chair. “Wow.”
“None of this is going to happen immediately,” she assured me. “You’ll finish out the term, and in the meantime, you can take some time to look for a place to live and a new job.”
“I have to find a new job?” I rasped.
“We only employ nuns to teach, dear.”
“But I’m happy being a nun.”
Mother gave a sad chuckle. “You’re comfortable being a nun, but you’re restless and you forget I knew your mother.” She reached out and cupped my cheek. “You are just like her, Sadie, and I want you to be as happy as she was. You’re never going to be truly happy confined by these walls.”
I leaned my face into her hand, raising an eyebrow. “You’re not asking me to be the nanny to seven kids in Austria, are you?”
Mother dropped her head back and laughed. “You don’t play guitar, which I believe is one of the requirements.”
“Well, just don’t start singing about solving a problem like Sadie and it’ll be all good.”
“I’m already solving the problem of Sadie, sweetheart. I’m pushing you out of the nest. You need to fly.”
“Touché,” I grumbled.
She patted my hand. “Go and process all of this and we can talk more if you need to. We’ll slowly transition you into your new life, okay?”
I nodded. I didn’t really have a choice. “What about our dinners?”
“Honey, I’m still your auntie. We’re family. Nothing about that will change. Plus, now you can call me Auntie instead of Mother. I kind of like that idea. I’m here if you need me, we’ll still have our dinners, and I hope you’ll give me lots and lots of great-great nieces and nephews.”
Ryder floated into my mind and I shivered.
“Are you cold?”
“No.” I forced a smile. “It’s just that in order to give you those nieces and nephews I’ll have to meet a man, and I don’t know the first thing about dating.”
Mother chuckled. “Let’s get the job and home sorted first.”
I grimaced. “Probably a good plan.”
I rose to my feet, hugged my aunt, and headed to my room. Sparse though it was, it was home, and I now had to come to terms with leaving it.
My phone buzzed as I set it on my dresser, and I smiled. “Hello, Father Michael,” I answered.
“Hey. Sorry, is it too late?”
“Nope. Just got home from my canceled dinner with Laura.”
Father Michael Denton was one of our priests. He was new by our church’s standards—he’d been placed there two years ago, and honestly, he shouldn’t be a priest. I mean, maybe he should, that was between him and God, but I heard a lot of women in our church lament the fact he was too pretty to be a priest and that it was a waste to the female population. They weren’t wrong. He was tall with dark hair and chocolate-brown eyes, broad shoulders, and an easy way about him. He was one of my closest friends, but totally off limits for obvious reasons.
“She canceled?” he asked.
“Well, sort of. She got stuck at work so I had the choice to wait for her or reschedule.” I sat on the edge of my bed. “What are you doing up?”
“Going over a few things from the Bishop.”
“Sounds serious.”
Michael chuckled. “Nothing I can’t handle.”
“Did you know what my aunt was going to do?”
“Yes.”
“You didn’t think to warn me?”
“I’m sorry, Sister,” he said. “It was confidential. If I could have told you, I would have.”
I sighed. “I know. It’s fine. Just sucks.”
“Let’s meet for coffee tomorrow and we can talk.”
“That would be great, Father. Thanks.”
“Better get back to it. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Okay, have fun.”
“Oh, I plan to.”
I giggled. “’Night.”
“’Night, Sister.”
I hung up and dragged myself to bed, prepared for a restless night.
* * *
Ryder
Ryder flopped onto the sofa in his office and dragged his hands through his hair. He was screwed. Totally and completely. The second the beautiful nun walked into his bar, he’d been knocked on his ass, and he wanted to fi
nd a way to see her again.
Damn it! A nun.
In what world did fallin’ for a nun make sense? Sure as hell wasn’t his.
Lifting a glass of whiskey, he took a swig just as his phone buzzed in his pocket. He answered it without checking the screen. “Ryder.”
“Hey man, it’s Cam.”
Cameron Shane was a good friend, a private investigator, and happened to be an expert in all things kidnap and recovery related. He was perfect for it, particularly because you never saw him coming. He was an ex-FBI agent turned pastor, but because of his special abilities, occasionally took on cases where he knew he could help. Like now. Ryder had asked him to look into a family situation and they’d spent almost a month spinning their wheels until a lead popped up a week ago.
“Hey.” Ryder sat up, his body on alert. “You got anything?”
“Followed her boyfriend to Savannah. All roads point to her being with him.”
“Georgia?” Ryder snapped. “What the hell are they doin’ in Georgia?”
“No clue.”
“Damn it!”
“I need to do a little more digging and I may have to do it at home, but we’ll find her, buddy. I promise.”
Ryder sighed. “Yeah.”
“One way or another. I’ve got a guy here who’s going to keep an eye on things and we’ll go from there.”
Ryder squeezed his eyes shut, forcing the panic away.
“Ryder?”
“Yeah, I’m here.”
“Okay. I’ll be home day after tomorrow and we’ll talk,” Cameron said.
“Thanks, man.”
“No problem.”
Cameron hung up and Ryder dropped his face into his hands. If he didn’t find her soon, he never would, and he didn’t know if he’d ever be able to live with himself. He was the reason she was gone. Staring down at his phone, he tried to call Scottie one more time, but it went straight to voicemail. “Scottie, you need to call me, okay? I know I screwed up. I know you’re mad, but I’m worried. Please, baby girl, call me soon, yeah? ’Bye.”
Downing the rest of his whiskey, he forced his thoughts away from his wayward sister and back to the beautiful woman he’d met tonight.
It was just too damn bad she was a nun.
Before he could get too wrapped up in what would never be, he was dragged back out front to deal with a customer service issue. A good ass-kicking always helped to tire him enough to sleep the panic away and if that didn’t work, he had more than enough Jack Daniels at his disposal.
Sadie
Four months later...
I GRABBED A bottled water from my fridge and handed it to Laura. “Laura, thank you so much for helping me with all of this.”
“Holy crap, are you kidding me? It’s Nun Makeover 101. My specialty.”
“Oh really?” I challenged. “Is this a new business venture?”
“Yes,” she quipped. “I do need to work on how to market it though...”
“This is true.”
“Plus, now I can call you Sadie again. Can I tell you now how much I hated Sister Abigail Eunice?” She shuddered. “So not you.”
I laughed as I stood in the middle of my new apartment, a modest one bedroom, one bathroom in Vancouver, Washington, just over the bridge from Portland. It was safe, you had to have a code to even get in through the gates on the property, and I had three very serious locks on my front door. “My aunt apparently couldn’t wrap her mind around it either.”
Even though I knew Auntie was right, being basically ejected from my old life still stung. I would start my new job at a lovely elementary school in Salmon Creek in a little over two months, but for now, I had some time to get used to my new life.
Which started now. Admittedly, I had no idea how it all worked, so when Laura offered to help me, I readily accepted. The vivacious, twenty-two-year-old woman standing before me was still exactly the same as she had been in school and, despite her penchant for not showing up for dinner on occasion, she was always there when it counted. Like now.
“Ready?” she asked.
“For?”
“Um, hello, shopping.” She grinned. “You need clothes. Real clothes.”
She had a point, but I had no idea where to start.
“And you need makeup.”
“I’ve never worn makeup,” I admitted.
“That’s why we’re going to the mall,” Laura said, grabbing her purse. “My bestie’s working the Clinique counter... she can give you some tips. Let’s go.”
I followed her from the apartment and into her car. I buckled my seat belt and gripped the handle, grateful she drove a little slower than she normally would (her words) to accommodate my lingering fear of automobiles.
“You know, you should learn how to drive,” Laura mused as she pulled into a parking spot. “It would probably help you get over your fear. People who are afraid to fly often take flying lessons. I bet it’s the same principle.”
I pried my shaking hand from the door handle and nodded. “Ah, nope, that’s okay.”
Laura giggled. “You might change your mind now that you’re living in the ’Couve. Fewer options for public transportation.”
“The bus is just fine.”
“For now.” Laura smiled. “Come on, lady, let’s get you looking like a normal person.”
I followed her into the mall and we headed to the Macy’s counter where a really pretty brunette turned and silently clapped. “You brought me a new victim,” she said with a weird kind of glee.
Laura laughed. “Bethany Corona, meet Sadie Ross. Sadie, this is Bethany.”
“It’s so nice to meet you.” Bethany shook my hand and then moved from behind the counter. “Now, let’s see what we have here.”
Laura’s “bestie” was funny, bossy, beautiful, and a genius with makeup. By the time she was finished with me, I looked like someone totally different. Someone confident and pretty... someone who was most definitely not a nun.
“Wow,” I breathed out.
“Right? I’m a rock star,” she quipped, jabbing a blush brush toward me. “Remember that.”
“I will.” I giggled. “I don’t even look like myself.”
“Of course you do,” she said, taking the mirror from my hand. “You just look like a better version of you.”
I slid off the stool. “I want everything you used on me.”
“Oooh, I love you already. Girls’ night out. Friday. Sound good?”
“What does that consist of generally?” I asked, despite feeling like an idiot.
Bethany grinned. “A little bar hopping, a little dancing, a lotta drinking and maybe some flirting.”
“Works for me,” Laura said distractedly as she stared at her phone.
“I don’t know,” I said, butterflies flooding my stomach. “I’ve never been to a bar on purpose.”
“You’re not a nun anymore, right?” Bethany asked.
“Right,” I agreed.
“We won’t do anything you don’t feel comfortable with,” Laura promised. “You’ll love it.”
I reminded myself it was time to try out my new life. “Okay. Sounds fun.”
“Awesome,” Bethany said. “We’ll meet you at your place and I’ll do your makeup.”
“That sounds so fun.” I handed my debit card to her and, when she’d rung up my purchases, I slid the bag over my hand. “Thanks for everything.”
“No problem. See you Friday.”
Laura pulled me out of Macy’s and we shopped until I couldn’t take anymore. In the end, I spent close to a thousand dollars on clothing, bedding, and household items. I also let Laura drag me into the twenty-first century and bought a smart phone (which was free if I signed a two-year contract... it blew my mind). Considering the fact I’d once taken a vow of poverty, chastity, and obedience, I’d never spent that much money before (outside of my furniture), so I felt a little sick. But nothing I’d purchased was frivolous, I reminded myself as we lugged the bags back to my apart
ment.
“Oh, crap, I’m supposed to be meeting my parents for dinner,” Laura exclaimed as she set the last bag on my counter. “I hate to cut and run, Sadie, but I’m late.”
“Don’t worry about it,” I assured. “I need to transfer my contacts and learn how to use my new phone anyway.”
She hugged me and I walked her to the door, locking up after she left and turning on the TV. It was the first purchase I’d made when I moved in, sixty inches of flat-screen beauty (priorities and all). One of the many reasons I made a pretty bad nun (in my opinion) was that I was obsessed with television and movies. It could have been called unhealthy, but it was part of me, and my aunt had informed me I got it from my father, and now I was free to embrace my addiction.
Feeling a little rebellious, I grabbed a carton of my Häagen-Dazs stash, turned on the television, and sat down on my gently-used sofa with my old and new phones.
I transferred over the few numbers I had saved and then opened the user manual. As I flipped through the book, my new phone rang. I couldn’t imagine who would be calling, and the caller ID simply said “restricted number.” “Hello?”
“Hey, you called?” a man’s voice asked.
“I’m sorry, who is this?”
“You don’t know who you called?” he asked, sounding distracted.
I suddenly recognized the voice. “Ryder?”
“Yeah, who’s this?”
“Uh, I’m so sorry, I have a new phone. I must have dialed you by mistake.”
“Sadie?”
My heart raced. “You remember me?”
“Yeah, Sadie, I remember you,” he said. “I mean, Sister.”
“I’m not actually a nun anymore.”
“How does that work?”
“Long story.” I bit my lip. “Anyway, I’m really sorry I called. I just got a new phone and forgot your number was in my old one.”
“You wanna get dinner?”
“When?”
“Tonight,” he said.
“Tonight? Really?”
“Yeah.”
“I was thinking about making a sandwich,” I said, although, I was a quarter-tub into the Häagen-Dazs.
“Thinking about it?”
I glanced at the ice cream. “Yes.”
A Nun Walks into a Bar (Nun-Fiction Series Book 1) Page 2
