In This Small Spot Read online

  Sister Anselma was so quiet that Mickey raised her eyes. Sister Anselma’s face wore a peculiar expression, “melting again,” Sister Mary David would have said with some amusement.

  “Michele,” she faltered, the first time Mickey had seen her at a loss for words, “for more reasons than you could know, I consider myself privileged and blessed to have been chosen as your guide and confidante.” She paused. “I think it is just possible that I will take even more away from this experience than you.”

  Mickey emerged from the solitude of her retreat like someone stepping from a dark cave into sunlight. It was difficult to focus, there was so much commotion as she resumed a normal schedule. She had to smile at the thought that the abbey seemed noisy, especially during the somber season of Lent.

  Back among the postulants, Mickey was warmly welcomed by Tanya and Jessica. Sister Anselma had told Mickey about Jessica’s help searching for her the night of the storm, and Mickey was certain that Jessica must have heard some of what occurred while she was ill, since her cell was next door, but as far as she could tell, Jessica had said nothing to anyone else. Jessica did seem to be slightly in awe of Sister Anselma. “She talks to me now,” she whispered to Mickey during Recreation. “She never did that before.”

  Mickey felt as if she had lost a lot of time in their classes. “What’s up with her?” Mickey asked, indicating Wendy who was sniffing and red-eyed as they came into Sister Stephen’s classroom for Latin on her second day back in the regular routine.

  Tanya rolled her eyes. “She’s been like that ever since we were told your retreat was being extended, saying hers was so hard and so painful. She’ll never say what exactly – that, apparently, is personal, but she doesn’t seem to mind being a public snot factory.”

  Mickey choked with laughter.

  “The thing that worries me,” Jessica continued in a low voice, “is that Abby is getting all wrapped up in the drama.”

  She was right. Mickey watched from a distance as Abigail stuck near to Wendy, solicitous and concerned as Wendy seemed to be constantly weeping. “You of all people have no right to criticize that, after this past month,” Mickey told herself sternly, but still… Wendy’s displays seemed so… ostentatious.

  A few days later, Mickey was summoned to Mother Theodora’s office. She was standing, looking out the window when Mickey entered. “Sit down, Mickey.”

  Mickey took one of the chairs and waited for Mother Theodora to speak. They hadn’t had any contact since the morning Mickey’s fever broke. At last, Mother Theodora turned from the window.

  “You look thin, child. I’ve been worried about you.”

  Mickey gave her a wan smile. “I’ve been worried about me, too. I can honestly say I hope never to go through anything like that again.”

  Mother Theodora came to sit in the chair next to her. “When Sister Anselma came to ask me about extending your retreat, I wasn’t sure it was the right thing to do. I was afraid that much of what might surface would be beyond her ability to help you with.”

  “She was incredibly patient and understanding. I’m sure that month was exhausting for her.”

  Mother Theodora smiled. “Perhaps, but I think in many ways, it turned out to be as beneficial for her as I hope it ultimately was for you.”

  Mickey looked puzzled. “She said something to that effect on our last day, but I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

  Mother Theodora looked at Mickey for several seconds before speaking. “Let’s just say that Sister Anselma has maintained a certain… aloofness from the rest of the community. She is highly respected for her work, but not especially loved. Her experience with you has had the unintended side effect of putting a small chink in her armor.”

  Mickey looked worried. “Mother, I’m sorry if I’ve upset the balance of things in any way.”

  “Mickey,” Mother Theodora said thoughtfully, “I have a feeling we’ve only seen a glimpse of how you will affect the balance of life at St. Bridget’s.”

  Chapter 13

  Tanya paced as Mickey sat with her elbows resting on her knees, staring at the floor. Abigail’s foot jiggled in an agitated rhythm while Wendy drummed her fingers nervously on the windowsill as she stared out at the grounds. Only Jessica waited placidly.

  “Before you are accepted for your Clothing,” Sister Rosaria had told them at the beginning of Holy Week, “the community will vote on each of you. If any of you receives ten percent or more negative votes, you will be asked to leave.”

  “But,” Tanya sputtered, “that’s only seven votes!”

  Mickey’s gut clenched as she considered the possibility of being asked to leave. Not now, she thought. Not after everything I’ve been through, but, as if to make the unthinkable more real, she’d received a packet that week from her surgical practice. She didn’t need to open it. Her year’s leave of absence was nearly at an end. Inside, she knew, was the buyout contract, waiting for her signature. It sat, still unopened, on her desk.

  Tomorrow, Holy Thursday, would begin the solemn ceremonies culminating in Simple Vows for Sister Helen and Sister Stephanie and the receiving of the habit for the five postulants, but “will there still be five of us?” Mickey asked herself as they waited.

  One by one, they were called to meet with the Council and hear the results of the vote. Besides Mother Theodora, the Council was made up of six other sisters, including the prioress, the Abbess’s second in command. Sister Scholastica was the current prioress. The other five were elected by the community to serve staggered terms of five years each so that there were never any more than two new Council members, with the possible exception that if the Abbess died, her successor might be new to the Council.

  None of the others returned to the room where they were waiting, so that after what seemed a long time, only Jessica and Mickey remained. When Jessica’s name was called, she gave Mickey an encouraging smile and then Mickey was left alone. She understood that the women in this community took the voting process very seriously, and would not vote no on the basis of petty grievances, but still – there was Sister Helen, and she was sure she must have irritated some of the others as well. How many times had Sister Rosaria and Sister Stephen had to rebuke and correct her? And she knew she hadn’t hidden her irritation with Wendy very well, but “is that enough to make them question my suitability for monastic life?” she wondered.

  When at last Mickey was called in to the Council room, she found the members seated around a long table with Mother Theodora at the head.

  “Sit down, Michele,” Mother Theodora invited, indicating the empty chair at the table. Mickey nervously sat.

  Sister Scholastica apparently was in charge of this process as she was the one who spoke next, saying, “We are pleased to tell you, Michele, that you have been accepted into the Novitiate. Even though you will not be under vows, you will be expected to contribute and live as a full member of this community. If you desire to leave, you may do so at any time, but it is our fervent prayer that your vocation will lead you to stay with us at St. Bridget’s.”

  It took a moment for the words to sink in, so prepared had Mickey been to hear a “We’re sorry,” speech. Mickey bit her lip and swallowed the lump in her throat. “Thank you,” she said simply.

  When she got back to her cell, she took the buyout contract from the envelope and read it over. Now, the final decision was solely in her own hands, needing only her signature to complete the last step of walking away from her old life, “from everything you worked for, everything you built,” said a stubborn voice in her head. She stuffed the contract back into its envelope.

  Thursday evening was the Mass commemorating the Last Supper. Following the reading of the Gospel, Mother Theodora donned an apron and washed the feet of twelve members of the community – “which always includes the novices taking their vows and the postulants moving to the Novitiate,” Sister Rosaria had said, overriding their protests by reminding them, “part of humility is learning to receive graciousl
y.”

  At the end of the Mass, the altar was draped in a black cloth as Father Andrew placed the remaining Communion bread in a small side chapel where the nuns would maintain a constant vigil, rotating half-hour prayer shifts through the solemnity of Good Friday, remembering the anguish of the crucifixion – the long, hushed hours afterward when all must have seemed dark and lost.

  I know that lost feeling, Mickey thought as she knelt through her shift, allowing herself to feel the despair and anguish that she remembered only too well….

  ╬ ╬ ╬

  “Magnificat anima mea Dominum,

  et exultavit spiritus meus in Deo salvatore meo,

  quia respexit humilitatem ancillae suae.

  Ecce enim ex hoc beatam me dicent omnes generationes…”

  Mickey and the other four, wearing simple white robes, their heads uncovered and hair uncut for the last time, processed behind Sister Helen and Sister Stephanie who sang the Magnificat. Behind them, the public chapel was full to bursting – “we haven’t had this many new entrants in years,” the nuns had murmured appreciatively when it became known that all would be moving on to the Novitiate. Mickey felt goosebumps erupt as she listened to Sister Helen’s soaring voice and her throat tightened painfully. “For He that is mighty hath done great things to me and holy is His Name…”

  The community took up the last two stanzas as Sisters Helen and Stephanie prostrated themselves on the floor, their foreheads resting on their hands. The sunlight filtered in through the stained glass window above the altar so that the two women lay in a pool of reds and greens and blues spilling over the flagstones where Mother Theodora and Father Andrew stood with Bishop Marcus who had come to preside over the celebration, looking like one of the magi, with his regal bearing and dark complexion, accentuated by brilliant white robes richly embroidered with gold. He stepped forward.

  “Sister Helen Bennington, are you prepared to make your vows before this community, to God and to your Abbess, to live in poverty, renouncing material and worldly possessions; to live chastely, renouncing human love in favor of the love of our Lord; and to live in obedience to the Abbess who stands in Christ’s place as the head of the community?”

  “I am,” Sister Helen replied.

  “Then rise, and receive this ring as a token of your commitment,” he said, sliding a plain silver band onto her left hand. Sister Helen then moved to Mother Theodora who handed her a pen with which to sign her vow agreement. The process was repeated for Sister Stephanie, and then both of them disappeared into the sacristy where their short white veils were exchanged for long, black ones. They took their seats in the choir as the postulants now prostrated themselves on the cool stone floor.

  “What do you ask?” Bishop Marcus asked each in turn. Their reply, “To enter the Novitiate of St. Bridget’s Abbey and try my vocation here.”

  “My heart was pounding so hard,” Mickey would tell Jamie later, “I didn’t think I was going to be able to speak. I saw myself lying there, gasping for air like a netted fish.”

  As they rose to go to the sacristy, Mickey was so light-headed, she thought she might pass out. Inside, Sisters Teresa and Fiona waited for them. They took off the white robes, and had their hair cut short. Mickey’s had grown longer over the past year than it had ever been, but the others all had much longer hair. They were then all helped to change into the habit with its full-length robe, then the yoke which hung front to back, girded with a rope belt through which was hung a wooden rosary. The white, starched wimple was placed on their heads, framing their faces with the laces in the back pulled snug. Then the white novice’s veils were pinned into place.

  All of the senior nuns remembered those milestone moments, and many had happily shared their reminiscences with the postulants recently. “You should have seen my gown,” several of the older ones recalled, as before Vatican II, full wedding gowns were the norm for the Clothing. “We were real brides of Christ back then,” they said fondly. “Not like now, where there is no formality and the young ones act as if they are just ‘buddies’ with our Lord,” they added, not so fondly.

  Mickey and the others were grateful there were no longer wedding gowns – “I would have had to wear a tuxedo,” Mickey joked.

  “But nothing we wore before compares to this,” the older nuns all also said, running their hands affectionately over the sleeves of their habits. “Just wait. It will fit,” – “or it won’t,” a few could have said.

  Back in the Chapel, the five stood before Mother Theodora who said to them, “Receive the habit, a symbol of your commitment to a life of poverty and simplicity, girded with a rosary so that prayer will be your constant companion. Receive also your new names in Christ. Jessica Thomas, you will now be known as Sister Jessica. Tanya Peterson, you will now be known as Sister Tanya. Abigail Morgan, you will now be known as Sister Abigail. Wendy Barnes, you will now be known as Sister Wendy. Michele Stewart, you will now be known as Sister Michele.” As she addressed them in turn, she laid a hand on each head and blessed them.

  Following Mass, the nuns formed a line in the corridor connecting the Chapel to the cloister so that the two newly professed nuns and five new novices could be welcomed by each member of the community. Most offered small whispers of encouragement along with an embrace. When Mickey got to Sister Anselma, there were no words, but an especially tight embrace and one of Sister Anselma’s rare smiles.

  Last in line was Mother Theodora. When Mickey was standing in front of her, she held Mickey at arms’ length, looking at her for several seconds before embracing her. “It suits you,” she said approvingly.

  “Wow,” said Jamie a little while later, fingering the sleeve of Mickey’s habit. The community and visiting family members of the seven women celebrating the day – “nope, not seven families, only six,” Mickey muttered to Jamie when she noticed Wendy again had no family present – had gathered in the refectory for a small reception.

  “This is a big deal,” he said, looking around.

  Mickey smiled. “It’s a very big deal.” The wimple felt stiff and tight under her jaw. “I’m not sure how they work in these,” she said, sliding a finger under it and tugging on the starched fabric, “but I guess I’ll get used to it.”

  “Should I take a picture for Mom?” he grinned, pulling out his phone.

  “Oh, shut up,” she grumbled.

  “Is that any way for a nun to talk?” he teased.

  Back in her cell that evening, Mickey signed the contract ending her partnership in the surgical practice.

  Chapter 14

  A warm night breeze blowing off the bay evaporated the light sweat covering Alice and Mickey’s naked bodies. They were enjoying a rare weekend alone with no friends or family joining them. Mickey lay with her head resting on Alice’s shoulder, an arm and leg draped over Alice’s body, sifting Alice’s silky dark hair through her fingers.

  “That was amazing,” she said, still breathing heavily. “You know exactly how to read me and give me what I want.”

  Alice traced a fingertip along Mickey’s earlobe. “We’ve learned together, and it’s only gotten better with time.”

  Mickey sat up to pour them both more wine. “The best things really do get better with some age on them,” she said as she handed Alice her glass.

  “Are you sure?” Alice asked, propping up against the pillows.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, I feel silly admitting it,” Alice said softly, “but, I still get afraid sometimes that one of those beautiful, adoring young medical students will catch your eye, and you’ll take off for a new life with fewer obligations and better sex.”

  Mickey shook her head. “No one is more beautiful to me than you are,” Mickey murmured, running her fingers over Alice’s stomach. “I love our life just as it is.” She tilted her head, looking down at Alice. “Besides, why in the world would I want to start over having to break in someone new? It’s taken me ten years to get you trained.”

 
“If this were white wine and I didn’t have to worry about stains, you would be wearing it about now,” Alice said wryly.

  Mickey laughed and leaned down for a kiss. She drained her wine glass and lay back down beside Alice on the day bed they had put on the porch outside their bedroom. “I’m so glad we had this porch screened in.”

  Alice smiled in the dark. “I know. We wouldn’t want your delicate freckled skin to get mosquito bites in sensitive spots.”

  Mickey rolled on top of Alice and grinned. “You’re the only one allowed to bite my sensitive spots.”

  Chapter 15

  “It’s about time,” Sister Linus said as she opened the door to let Mickey in with a breakfast tray.

  Almost as soon as Mickey had ended her retreat, Sister Cecilia had called upon her to resume bringing the food trays to the chaplain’s residence.

  “I don’t know how you did it,” Sister Cecilia said, “but you’re the only one whose head Sister Linus hasn’t bitten off. It’s like pulling teeth to get anyone else to do this.”

  Even once Mickey was in the Novitiate and her duties were supposed to have changed, Sister Cecilia had pleaded with the Novice mistress, Sister Josephine, “Please, give Sister Michele leave to keep doing this.”

  “I don’t mind,” Mickey said in response to Sister Josephine’s questioning glance.

  Sister Linus had, in fact, seemed to have missed her. “I saw you,” she said now as she laid out the dishes on the table. “When you were on your retreat. Under the cherry tree. That tree was planted the year I entered. Seventy-six years ago.”

  “Really?” Mickey said in surprise. “So, you’re…?”

  “Ninety-four,” Sister Linus chuckled. “Back then, we entered at eighteen. But I think some of the seniors had bets on whether I’d last.” Her smile turned to a scowl. “But now, they think I can’t do anything. ‘You should rest,’ they say. ‘You’ve earned your retirement.’ Want to sit me in a corner, let me darn torn sheets until I just stop one day.”