“We’ll be glad to have a new face in the community, for sure, Sister,” said the sheriff kindly, totally oblivious to the heated glances Father Kent and I shared.
After a bit more chit chat on their part, I heard my name being called behind me and gave my goodbyes to the men, then went back to the booth, where I spent the next three hours counting down the seconds until I could be alone with Solomon.
Tonight, he had said.
Was I nervous? Absolutely. And I didn’t even want to think about when I’d have to leave Trevorstone. It was going to break my heart. Every time the thought came sneaking up on me, I’d push it away. Solomon had promised that I’d have my questions answered, so I was going to wait. Then I’d find a way to stay and never leave.
We’d left the majority of our things in bins back at the booth in town, so there wasn’t much to unload now that we were back at the parish. On the way, Sister Hazel and a few others had driven by the grocery store to pick up sandwich stuff for our dinner. All of us were dog-tired and wasn’t about to cook a thing.
I ate my dinner quickly and quietly, which gave me enough time to spare a quick shower before evening mass. I scrubbed and washed every inch of myself, preparing my body for him—just thinking his name made me feel giddy.
I was combing my hair after I dried off, wondering if I should even bother to braid it, when a knock sounded on the bathroom door.
“Just a minute, hold on!” I grabbed my things and opened the door.
“I was just checking on you. Come, I have something for you.” Sister Diane held the door for me as I slipped out and went to my room. The light was on, allowing me to see the three Sisters standing by the bed, smiling. Behind me, the door shut softly.
“What is it?” I asked, curious, putting down my things. That’s when I noticed the white dress laid out on my bed. It looked like satin, like a wedding dress. I looked at them, totally confused.
“Father Solomon sent us to ready you, dear,” the Sister named Olivia said sweetly.
My cheeks started to burn with embarrassment and… anger. He’d told them about us? Was this a trick? Or was he setting me up?
Diane stood in front of me and placed her hands on my shoulders. “None of that thinking, Sister.” She looked me dead in the eyes. “Listen, Constance. It is time. It’s alright. You are here at this parish for Father Kent.”
“And to take your vows, child,” the other Sister said. She was older, with dark skin and beautiful brown eyes. Kind and soft.
“But… I can’t take my vows here. It’s not…” I waved absently at the gown on the bed and looked at each woman. “I’m not staying. I mean, I already belong to a convent.”
“Of course you’re staying!” Sister Diane laughed. “You are the one he chose, Sister.” Her voice then took on a hint of reverence, and she dropped her gaze in submission. “You are to be our Mother.”
Someone touched my arm. “Indeed. And we are here to ready you for Him,” one of them said, not sure which. I was too hung up on the capital H I’d heard in that him.
“But you all don’t even like me,” I said stupidly as they began undressing me. I didn’t stop them, just stood there in a daze. A daze of utter confusion.
“Well,” Sister Olivia began, laughing sweetly, “we had to make sure, you see. But you are the one He has chosen, and we will honor you, Mother.”
“It is true, my Beloved,” Solomon said in my head like a lover’s caress. “I will see you at the altar. Let your Handmaidens assist you.”
I gasped, finding something to cling on to.
“Easy, easy. Sister Darla, go get her something to drink,” someone, Diane perhaps, said. “Something a little strong.”
I was led to the bed, the dress already on me now, while someone brushed my hair and began to braid it. A drink was handed to me, and I greedily drank up, barely able to breathe.
I didn’t remember much about the walk through the hall and main room, except it was dark, only lit by candlelight. I didn’t remember crossing the breeze way, except the cold cement under my feet. And I didn’t remember anyone giving me a bouquet of crimson delphinium to hold, by I remember their smell—soft and sweet like a summer’s day.
When the doors to the church opened, it was like my dream from the other night come to life. The congregation was filled, every pew taken. A billion candles burned. People I had met just this very day, had handed over cookies and cups of lemonade to, they were all there. The sisters of Trevorstone Parish stood shoulder to shoulder at the left of the altar, two priests that I had briefly met earlier this morning, both visiting clergymen stood to the right of the altar. And in the middle, at the end of the aisle, stood my Solomon.
He wasn’t wearing his robe, nor white, just his usual black tunic and pants, with his crisp white collar. His hands were folded comfortably at his trim waist, his head slightly bowed. And his eyes… Mother of Our Precious Lord, his eyes were golden orbs of fire, so beautiful they took my breath away.
“Come, my Beloved. Come, my Bride. I give myself to thee.” He held out his hand. I moved forward.
There was a collective sigh as I passed each pew, the only sound but the banging of my heart in the whole space. No music, no bells, no choir. It was as if time had stopped to witness the union that was to take place.
Was this real? This surreal event, this unimaginable happening… I just couldn’t wrap my mind around it. So I stopped trying and moved instead. I could feel my cheeks aching from my wide smile. Never had I felt such joy, having never thought I would find it.
Unlike in my dream, the walk wasn’t long. Finally, my steps ended, and I stood inches from him, my hand in his. He cupped my face with his other hand, so tender, so loving.
“My Constant Star.”
“Mr. Voice,” I whispered.
He smiled but grew solemn once more. “You are here to take the next step in the vows you took of faithfulness and servitude, in charity and faithful works. Do you now give yourself to Him who is your Master?”
“I do,” I said, confident now in the truth I heard from his heart.
“And, Sister Constance, do you give yourself to me to be my Bride? All that you are and possess, will you bind your soul with mine?”
The words flowed from my lips like I’d said them a thousand times, “I do, and to thou my heart and soul is given.”
He turned then and said a few words to the congregation, which they answered in turn. Then he addressed the Sisters behind me and the clergymen beside him.
“Do as thou wilt, sayeth we,” they sang in chorus.
“And it is answered. So shall it be,” Solomon intoned. He leaned forward and touched my lips to his, then everything went black.
Chapter Eight
Something cold was digging into my back. I tried to roll over away from it, but it was a struggle. I felt weighted down, as if a blanket made of iron was holding me flat.
“Shh, My Constant Star,” Solomon said from somewhere close by. “Open your eyes.”
Solomon. I instantly relaxed. His voice washed away my discomfort, bringing a contented sigh. When I opened my eyes, Father Kent was above me. He seemed to glow. The golden expanse of his naked chest, his muscled shoulders that met his neck and throat, made him appear angelic.