True Believers(6)

What she did instead was to put the big mug she’d brought from the motherhouse on the table, and to put a tea bag into it. Sister Harriet’s note was sitting right there at the edge of the place mat, written in thick black letters that must have been made with a felt-tip pen. She caught the kitchen crucifix out of the corner of her eye and nodded to it, automatically, the way she’d been taught to nod to churches when she was young. The memory surprised her. When she was in grade school and all nuns wore habits even more obvious than her own, Catholic men used to tip their hats when they passed a Catholic church. They used to do it on the bus and on the sidewalks, all the time, so that even non-Catholics never thought anything of it. The kettle began to screech, and she took it off to pour water over her Red Rose. What a very odd thing to remember—and to pine for, which was really what she was doing. Men tipping their hats when they passed a church. Parishes with three priests in the rectory to see to all the parish business. Nuns who knew when to shut up. Sister Harriet Garrity. Scholastica put the kettle back on the stove.

Please inform the parents of the girls in the First Communion   class, Sister Harriet’s note said, that it is no longer considered religiously appropriate for girls to dress like brides for their First Communion  .

Scholastica picked up the note, folded it in half, then unfolded it again. She put it down. She picked it up again. She put it down again. The kitchen door snicked open, then shut. Scholastica looked up to see Sister Peter Rose coming across the floor to her, dressed in one of those infamous bathrobes and with nothing at all on her head. Some of the older nuns wore their veils or their old white linen nightcaps just to get out of bed to go to the bathroom, but Peter Rose was barely twenty-six. She had a good head of hair, which now seemed to be held back by a rubber band.

Peter Rose stopped in front of Scholastica and bowed slightly, the way they’d all been taught to do in the novitiate.

Scholastica said, “Well, since I make the rules for this house, and I’m talking, I suppose we’re not observing the grand silence this morning.”

Peter Rose pulled out a chair and sat down. “You’ve been pacing for hours. Are you all right?”

Scholastica passed the note across the table. Peter Rose picked it up and read it.

“Ah,” she said. “Harriet, up to her usual. I think she already suspects that you’re not going to be as much of a pushover as Marie Bernadette.”

“Was she a pushover?”

“She was sick, that was the problem,” Peter Rose said. “Cancer makes you weak, and chemotherapy makes you weaker. She didn’t have a lot of fight in her, at the end. She shouldn’t have been kept on here so long.”

“She wanted to stay. It seemed like the best thing to do, as long as she was able.”

“I suppose. I’m glad you’re here, though. Things have been insane around this place far too often lately. And the school needs—more energy than it’s been getting.”

Scholastica took the tea bag out of the mug and put it on a small square paper napkin. She dumped a heaping teaspoon of sugar into the mug and stirred. The clock on the wall seemed to be moving incredibly slowly, far more slowly than it ever had before. It was as if the world had decided to stay dark and asleep forever.

Scholastica put the teaspoon on the napkin. “Tell me something,” she said. “Does Father Healy know about this?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Why not?

“Because he isn’t having a fit about it.”

“Exactly,” Scholastica said. “He’s going to have a fit about it. You know that, and I know it. It’s just the kind of thing he can’t stand. And after he’s had a fit about it, the parents are going to have a fit about it, because they’ve probably already bought those First Communion   dresses. White dresses. Little veils. Crown things for the tops of the heads.”

“I had a really gorgeous one when I made my First Communion  ,” Peter Rose said. “The crown had pearls all around it, and the veil had pearls in it. I kept it for years, just to look at.”

“Well, I used to close the door of my room and put mine on and pretend I was getting married. My point, I think, is that this is going to be a very unpopular decision. It won’t stand, because I don’t think Father Healy will allow it to stand, but between the time it’s made and the time it’s countermanded, there’s going to be a very big fuss. I resent this woman attempting to make that fuss center on me.”

“But it won’t center on you,” Peter Rose said, startled. “You’ll tell Father Healy it was Harriet’s decision and—”