“We are ordinary people, and yes, the Church does make mistakes. But they make good decisions too. There will always be some rotten apples in the barrel, in every situation, every group. But don’t forget there are good apples too. You’re one of them. A very good apple. I don’t want to see you give that up.”
“What if it’s wrong for me?” Hattie tried to plead her case, but the superior wasn’t swayed.
“Why would it be wrong now?” the superior challenged her, her eyes looking deep into Hattie’s. “Who turned you against this life of ours? You need to look at that.” They both knew Fiona Eckles had. Mother Elizabeth was fighting for her soul. And suddenly for the first time in eighteen years, Hattie wanted freedom. For more than just a year. She didn’t want the equivalent of a trial separation. She wanted a divorce.
“I’ll think about it,” Hattie said, looking anguished. She kissed the superior’s ring, left the office, and hurried off to work. She called her sister that night and told her what had happened.
“Why do you have to go to Africa? Why can’t you work with the poor here?” Hattie was exasperated. The mother superior didn’t want her to leave the religious order. And her sister didn’t want her to leave New York.
“I was happy there,” Hattie said, annoyed.
“Can’t you be happy here? Africa is dangerous, you could get sick or injured, or caught in an uprising of some kind. I don’t want you killed.”
“I’d rather be dead than wasting my life. And I’m beginning to think that’s what I’m doing here. I came in under false pretenses. I don’t belong here, Mel.”
“I’ve been telling you that for eighteen years. And now you believe me and want to leave. I don’t want to lose you, Hattie. You’re all I have.”
“You have Michaela now,” she reminded her.
“That’s not the same. You and I have history, our whole lives. Michaela is brand new.”
“She won’t be new forever. You’ll make a history with her. I need to do this. Africa is the only place where I felt I did some good.” Melissa didn’t know what to say to that. Hattie sounded frustrated.
“Just don’t rush into anything. This is a huge decision. You rushed into the convent. Now don’t rush out.”
“I said I’d think about it some more, and I will.” But she didn’t like the options. All of a sudden Hattie felt like she was in jail and wanted to be free. And it was ironic that, after years of opposition, now Melissa was encouraging her to stay in the order and remain a nun.
She stayed up late, reading and praying that night, and got nowhere.
Hattie knew she had done a good thing finding Michaela, but everything had changed when she did. Not only for Melissa and for Michaela, but for herself too. And in her case, not for the better. Michaela had been found. But she felt lost now.
* * *
—
Melissa was worried about her, and talked to Norm that night. He could see how upset Melissa was about her sister, although he wasn’t sure why. Hattie sounded like an intelligent woman and he trusted her to make the right decision.
“Would it be so terrible if she left the convent? I thought you weren’t happy about her being a nun.” He was confused by her reaction, after what she’d said when they first met.
“I wasn’t happy. Her going into the convent made no sense to me for all those years. Now I know why she went in. She’s been protected for all of her adult life. First by me, then by the Church. She’s an innocent. Look what happened to her when she got raped.”
“She was twenty-five years old then. Now she’s forty-three. She’s not naïve.”
“She’s never lived on her own, or had to pay rent or take care of herself. Now she wants to go to Africa. What’ll happen to her there? She could be killed.”
“She could be killed crossing the street in the Bronx, or mugged leaving the hospital at the end of her shift. She loves it there. Maybe she needs her freedom. Maybe she wants to marry and have kids, it’s not too late.” Melissa looked shocked at the idea.
“It’s taken me eighteen years to get used to the idea of her being a nun. Now she wants to quit.”
“Mel, there are chapters in our lives. I’ve had them, you too. My marriage was right when I did it, and so wrong nine years later, or even five. It ended for you with Carson. You had a huge success as a writer, now you’re done. Maybe she’s just tired of being a nun.”
“You’re not supposed to get tired of that,” she said, and he smiled.
“She’s human. People change. Maybe she’s outgrown it. She seems to have had some kind of crisis of faith. She should have the right to leave if she wants to.”
“I agree with the mother superior. She should take a year to think about it.”
“Maybe she will. But your worrying won’t change anything. She’s a smart woman. Trust her to make the right decision for herself.”
“I never thought so before because I don’t like nuns. But I think the convent suits her. She was happy there before.” Mel was being stubborn about it. She was frightened for her sister if she stepped out into the world.
“I was happy with my wife when I married her. We would have killed each other if we’d stayed married.” She knew that what he said was true, but she didn’t want to hear it. She wanted Hattie to stay in the little pigeonhole where she’d been for nearly twenty years, not fly off the branch into open skies. It was too risky.
When she said it to Norm, he shook his head. “Maybe she wants a little risk in her life. Not a lot, but just enough to feel she has a voice in her own fate. Let’s see what she does before you panic.”
“Maybe it’s a good thing I never had to deal with my kids growing up. The stress of it would have killed me.”
“Just remember, your sister isn’t a teenager. She’s forty-three years old, six years younger than you are.”
“She’s never had to fend for herself. And as soon as she did, she ran straight into the convent to hide. That tells you something.”
“All it tells me is that she was severely injured when she got raped, and did the only thing she could think of. She’s grown up.”
“Africa is not safe, even as a nun.”
“It’s what she loves.”
“She’s running away again.”
“Maybe she is. She has the right to. You hid here for four years, before you opened the door and took a chance on life again. We all have to do it our own way.”