Adrian's Choice

Adrian’s Choice

By

Vinita Eggers

Santa Fe, New Mexico

Present Day

“Meg! Number fourteen wants to talk to you.”

In the process of putting the finishing touches on the seven tier wedding cake for her oldest brother’s wedding, Meghna Taylor winced as the unexpected bellow made her hand tremble.

Meg considered it a blessing that the customers at Sweet Bites felt comfortable talking to the head chef. However, when she had so many orders to finish and Easter was flashing its pastel colored eggs too close for her comfort, it was harder to consider it a blessing. She sent a silent thank you and sorry heavenward. The thank you for the great customers and the sorry for her bad attitude. 

“Coming.” Meg stepped back and gestured to her assistant to take over.  She’d wanted to personally finish this one but maybe God had a different plan in mind.

Whipping off her hair net and stuffing it into her pocket, Meg paused before the doors to the seating area.  She put on her public face – competent, confident chef.

Meg walked through the hundred year old restaurant she’d spent a year of her life renovating. As she conversed graciously with the customers who stopped her, she couldn’t help but feel pride for what she’d accomplished. She smiled at the people who caught her eye and, in general, did her best at being the perfect hostess. She kept her path aimed for table fourteen and the dark hair she could now see above the booth.

Nearing the table, Meg smoothed her apron as she turned to the patron who’d asked to see her. “You asked to speak to —”

Adrian Mainwaring? What is he doing here?

Her traitorous heart flipped, making the last two years fall away as she remembered her first view of him.  He’d towered over her as she’d run into his classroom, his full lips compressed into a displeased line and eyes an icy blue that made her shiver.

That day Meg realized she was masochistic. Despite his foul mood, she’d found Adrian fascinating.  She was just glad she hadn’t done anything to give away her feelings.  Adrian had made his disapproval obvious which had begun his habit of saving his most insulting taunts and ferocious scowls just for her.

For six months, Meg had borne the conflicting emotions of unwanted attraction and absolute dislike for her instructor. She’d prayed daily to have them removed from her life, to have him removed from her life.  And the apparent answer had been, “No”.   

“Meg Taylor?” Adrian cocked his head in her direction.  His eyes were covered by dark wrap-around glasses obscuring most of his lean face. A seeing-eye dog at his feet, his unexpected gaunt frame and white walking stick with the red tip gave silent testimony to the trials he’d dealt with in the last three months. She’d heard about his accident through the grapevine and even stopped by the Loretto Chapel to pray for him. 

“I’m Meg.  You asked to speak to me, Mr. Mainwaring?”

***

Adrian knew who she was the moment he detected a whiff of lilacs in the air.  It steadied him, dialed the nervousness he’d refused to acknowledge down a notch. This was the Meg Taylor he knew, the one who, for six months, made his classroom an exciting, adventurous place. 

“I’m not your instructor anymore, Meg. Call me Adrian.”

Her familiar scent and something wholly feminine had imprinted itself on his mind and heart the first day she’d run into his classroom.

Dark brown curls had escaped her untidy bun to frame her gorgeous face. Deep brown eyes invited him to linger in their depths and her bronze skin had enticed him to touch.  The curve of her lips encouraged him to laugh with her.

She wasn’t the first girl of East Indian descent in his class, and she wouldn’t be the last, but she’d been the first to make him take a second look. 

“Adrian.  How may I help you?”

Adrian heard the polite uncertainty in her voice and inwardly winced.  He deserved that.  Due to their professional relationship, he hadn’t been able to act on his attraction as he would’ve any other woman he found appealing. 

In his efforts to spend as much time with her as possible, he’d gone overboard and made it look as though she was a bad cook with the number of times he’d made her repeat culinary assignments. 

“Food’s great.” Hoping to redeem himself, Adrian continued, “I’ve heard good things about you. I’m glad I came.”

***

 “Thank you.” Meg fought the urge to snort at Adrian’s assessment of the food, remembering how most of her culinary masterpieces had been deemed merely acceptable by him.

“Meg, will you join me for coffee tonight?”

The nerve of the man! Showing up out of the blue, complimenting her on her food, and now asking her out. He knew she didn’t date.  After he’d mistreated her for six months, he’d asked her for a date the day she’d received her grades.

Although she felt a strong connection to Adrian as a man, it was one of the hardest things she’d done— say no to the offer.  For one, he was a non-believer and she took to heart the scripture to not be unequally yoked.

Secondly, she didn’t believe in the modern American concept of dating. He knew she preferred the biblical concept of courtship, of getting to know someone with the intent of marriage.

“I don’t think so.” Meg shook her head before she remembered that he couldn't see her.

“It’s not a date. I have to say something to you and it needs to be said in private. ”   

Private.  She wasn’t going near anything that resembled private with this man.  Adrian was dangerous to her self-control in a way that terrified her because he made her forget her beliefs and do what he wanted.

  Standing up straighter and putting more steel into her voice, she said, “Anything you want to say, you can say here.”

***

Adrian realized she wasn’t going to budge on this just like she hadn’t budged on her no-dating rule.  Her refusal had made him angry, at her and her God. 

He hadn’t understood when she’d said she’d be happy to consider him a friend only.  He hadn’t wanted friendship then.  And he didn’t want it now, but if that is what God intended for their relationship, he would be content with it. 

It had been hard to come to that peace.  But losing the sight in his eyes, breaking his leg and nearly dying in the car accident three months ago had opened his spiritual eyes.  

“I’ve just met with my pastor. I will be baptized next Sunday.  I want you to be there. Please say that you will come.”

“Adrian…” Meg trailed off, suspicion heavy in the single word.

“I was in an accident three months ago.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”   Sadness and caring infused the words. But then Meg had always cared for him, even when he’d been at his autocratic worst. During the week that he’d been afflicted with a particularly strong case of the cold virus, she’d made him chicken noodle soup every day. It had been the only time in his life he’d been happy to be sick.

She just hadn’t been willing to compromise her principles.  At that time, he’d thought he hated her for her firm stance but it was only after the accident that he’d realized how special that was. How special she was.

Caring for someone who didn’t have the same principles, who didn’t even respect them, took a great deal of inner strength.  

“Don’t be. It was exactly the kick in the pants I needed.” Adrian smiled at her.  “It made me realize what I lacked in my life. Pride kept me from submitting to His will.”  And the need to be his own man, to blaze his own trail.

 He’d always thought that weak men submitted to God because they couldn’t deal with their lives. Men who couldn’t make hard decisions and live with the consequences of those decisions. He’d been wrong. 

“The chaplain in the hospital helped me with The Believer’s Prayer. He also helped me find a church.”

Adrian retrieved a card from his breast pocket and slid it across the table to Meg. 

“This is the address.  I hope you come.”

When she didn’t respond, he slid out of the booth, grasped the dog’s harness in his right hand, flicked out his walking stick with the left and proceeded to make his way to the door. The hair on his nape stood up in awareness that Meg watched him the entire way.

***

After Adrian left the restaurant, Meg spent countless hours trying to talk herself out of going to his baptism. She’d prayed for his acceptance of God’s mercy for the last two years. She’d even stopped by the Loretto Chapel on the day she’d heard of his accident, and prayed for his salvation and continued good health. She finally decided she wasn’t about to miss this milestone in his spiritual journey.

Whether Adrian cared for her the way Meg hoped he did was moot.  He’d taken the time to find her, to extend the invitation in person.  After all that effort, being present at his baptism was the least she could do.

 The fluttering in her stomach intensified when she approached Adrian on Sunday morning and said hello.  He graciously introduced Meg to his friends and family, putting her at ease.  

After they all trooped into the church, Meg found herself seated next to Adrian in the front pew reserved for his family.

The sanctuary was decorated in white and purple and gold.  Ceiling to floor banners hung on the walls, proclaiming, “Christ has died” “Christ is risen” and “Christ will come again”. A huge bouquet of white lilies, purple lilacs and yellow forsythia stood at the bottom of the steps leading up to the main platform.  Six red velvet armchairs sat on it, five of them occupied.  The choir sat behind a short wooden partition that divided the platform into two.  Right behind the choir was the baptismal pool.

Concentrating on the sermon had never been so hard. Adrian’s nearness had a magnetic pull on Meg’s attention today.  Usually, she was a rapt audience, the sermon a culmination of her week’s Bible study.  Her mind told her it wasn’t fruitful to be so focused on a mere man when her attention should be on God.  Her heart just wanted to concentrate on Adrian and how he’d changed in the eighteen months since she’d last seen him. 

Adrian’s baptism was the first one after the sermon. An usher came to him at the end of the sermon and took him to the back of the sanctuary while the music director led them in hymns.

Adrian was helped into the pool by the pastor, who’d left the podium about the same time as Adrian left his seat to get dressed in the white baptismal garment he wore now.  The pastor invited Adrian’s friends and family to occupy the now empty choir seats.  Meg joined the exodus up the steps to the choir seats and sat.

While she’d been witness to many baptisms, this one held a special place in her heart.  Not only because of how she felt about Adrian himself, although that was a big part of it. 

Rarely did she see the fruits of her prayers.  She was sure it wasn’t only her prayers that had led to this day.  Even being a miniscule part of any person’s spiritual life was rewarding.  It gave her the push she needed to continue with her efforts, unseen by her though the results may be. 

She was just thankful God had made it possible for Adrian to find her in time to issue his invitation.

***

 At the conclusion of the service, Meg joined Adrian’s family for a special luncheon in the church’s reception room. It gave her the perfect excuse to be around him a while longer. 

Adrian was more relaxed in this environment.  She’d only seen him in his professor persona and never realized how tightly wound he was.  Seeing him laughing and joking with his cousins showed her a completely different man.      

 “Meg?” Adrian’s voice in her ear had Meg turning toward him. “Will you walk with me outside?”

“Yes.”

Adrian held out his left arm and she put her hand on it.   

Once they were outside, Adrian said, “Meg, I would like to court you.” Before she could comment, he rushed on, as though to stop her from denying him.  “A biblical courtship. Not dating. A biblical courtship with intent to marry.”

Suddenly the beautiful day had become much brighter. The sky much bluer, the sun shone warmer.  The flowers seemed to glow brighter, their fragrance sweeter. 

 “I know I treated you badly —”

“Try horribly,” Meg teased.

“Very well, I know I treated you horribly when you were my student. But my only excuse is I could think of no other way to spend some time with you without making my preference apparent to everyone.”

“I thought you didn’t like me.” His words reminded her of the conflicting emotions, fascination and dislike, she’d had to deal with at the time.  “But it all turned out for the best.”

“The best? How can you say that?”

“Well, it was a great experience in terms of learning how to deal with criticism.” After a while, she mused.  At the time, she’d hated going into class, knowing Adrian would find fault with something, anything. 

Only after she’d started working in the industry had she realized how invaluable his criticisms had been.  He’d taught her to work through her emotional response to rejection to look for workable solutions.  It was one of the reasons she was successful.  Her clients knew, no matter the problem, she’d work with them to find a solution that pleased both parties.

“Maybe so.  But it was still badly done on my part. I’m sorry. Will you forgive me?” Adrian looked so wretched Meg didn’t have the heart to tease him about this.

  “I forgave you a long time ago, Adrian.” He was as surprised as she at that statement. She hadn’t realized it until now but she had forgiven him sometime in the last eighteen months.

“Thank you.” Adrian’s shoulders seemed to relax slightly for the first time during this conversation. “Will you allow me to court you, Meg?”

“I would like that.” Meg said, only a slight tremor in her voice giving away the fact that on the inside she was jumping for joy in a very un-ladylike fashion. 

Adrian stopped and turned towards her, his hands turned palms up. “Give me your hands.”

After Meg placed her hands in his, Adrian bowed his head. “Thank you, God.  For your mercy and your grace.  Bless us as we begin our courtship, that we might bring glory to you throughout our lives. Amen.”

Meg echoed with “Amen” and grinned, unable to keep her joy contained any longer. 

THE END

Thank you for reading.  The last installment will be tomorrow.

Happy Easter!

May God Bless you and keep you.

A Free Choice

A Free Choice

by

Aryadne Leone

 

 

“Sorry to disturb your prayers, Reverend Mother…”

The panic-tinged voice broke through her inner stillness, bringing Mother Superior Eva-Luke crashing back to earth. Once more, the flesh tugged at her, even as her spirit reached for liberation. She opened her eyes and turned to the anxious young novice.

“Yes, Sister Ruth,” the Mother Superior replied in well-modulated tones, lilted by a rich Southern accent. “What can I do for you?”

The flighty teenaged nun-in-training was known to catastrophize – something made less endearing by the many hardships of life in a desert mountain outpost.

Santa Fe, New Mexico, nested in the high valley of three mountain ranges, was remote enough to ensure that few tended to come there unintentionally. Yet the small, sleepy town was cosmopolitan enough to support three distinct cultures: the Native Red Indians, who dwelled peaceably at their fine Pueblos in this blessed land from time immemorial; the Hispanics, whose ancestors once brutally subjugated the Pueblo peoples, but now bring art and a flair for life; and the most recent arrivals, the Anglos, European immigrants and their descendants who swarmed into the lands west of the Mississippi at breathtaking speed.

Fleeing war-torn Georgia after the devastation of the War Between the States, Mother Superior Eva-Luke had sought peace in the desert. But when the high mountain splendor alone could not relieve the pain of her wounded heart, she asked for and received sanctuary with the Sisters of Loretto, taking the veil as the alternative to her abandoned dream.

She gave her life to Christ twelve years ago of her own free will, figuring she wasn’t doing anything better with it and He might as well make good use of it. Her nimble wit and innate kindness made her a natural leader and teacher for the young girls of the Academy of Our Lady of Light. It did not take her long to rise in the ranks. Being indispensable was a most effective way to remain distracted from the ghosts of what might have been.

Yet, these days it seemed like it was one thing after another. Burdened with multiple duties running both the convent and the girls’ school, it seemed Eva-Luke never got more than two minutes of solitude to perform her morning devotions before she was called upon to solve some crisis. While her position gave her a true sense of purpose and much satisfaction, she longed to shed the heavy mantle of responsibility and perhaps retire to a quiet hermitage in the desert somewhere...

The young novice eyed her uncomfortably.

“It’s that bum who’s been hanging around the chapel for the last couple of days…” the girl began. “He doesn’t seem to be harming anyone, but he stinks really bad. The sisters are all upset and don’t want to have choir practice with him smelling up the place again. He’s been there for three days already.”

Eva-Luke sighed inwardly at the ridiculousness of the crisis du jour.

She remembered glimpsing the raggedy man in the back row of the convent’s fine new chapel during mass. His tall, lean frame was stooped in melancholy, his once-fine clothes in filthy tatters. At the time, she had thought little of it, as the doors of Christ’s house are open to all, no matter what they have done or where they have been. It was not the first time that men down on their luck had sought shelter for body and soul in the calming atmosphere of the gothic revival chapel. He had not appeared to be a threat then, and did not seem one now. It seemed to her that the sisters were the ones in error if they could not find compassion for this poor traveler who had obviously seen better days.

“Very well, Sister Ruth,” Eva-Luke said with polished Southern grace as she stood from her bent rosewood and leather chair before the warm kiva fireplace. “I shall come see what I can do.”

A cool, crystalline blue sky greeted Eva-Luke as she stepped into the dazzling morning sunlight, the mountains standing politely to the east. Her heart soared at the freedom of the open sky, the sweet scent of pinon filled her nostrils. Once again, she remembered why she endured the numerous privations and hardships of the desert, so unlike the pampered plantation life in which she was raised, where submissive slaves fulfilled her every wish. This desert brought a peace to her soul that almost atoned for her past sins.

This is truly God’s Country, she thought as she turned her steps towards the graceful gothic chapel given to the Sisters of Loretto as a gift from the influential Archbishop Lamy. The play of light and color delighted her eyes and filled her soul with rapture for the natural beauty of this special place: La Villa Real de la Santa Fe de San Francisco de Assisi, the Royal City of Holy Faith of Saint Francis of Assisi.

She squinted up into the bright light to watch a lone hawk soaring above the scrubby pinon trees. The graceful spires of the small chapel punctured the cobalt blue sky, reaching for heaven in a perfect harmony of balance and beauty. She still thought of it as new, even though construction had been completed almost five years before, and the miraculous spiraling staircase to the choir loft finished some two years ago. As her gaze slid down the golden limestone building, so like the Sainte-Chapelle in Paris, she noted the knot of black-habited women, milling in consternation outside the door.

“Reverend Mother, you’ve got to do something about that bum!” Sister Mary Job complained, as she rushed to the Mother Superior’s side. “The stench is unbearable! You’ve got to get rid of him.”

“Tell him to take a bath,” offered Sister Constance helpfully.

“Or better yet, to move along,” Sister Martha insisted.

“Now, why is a little sweat so distressing, Sisters?” Eva-Luke asked, with equal measures of admonition and humor. “Has anyone offered him assistance?”

The nuns fidgeted but none answered.

“This poor man is obviously in a state of spiritual and physical need, and all you do is judge him. Is that how you would treat Our Lord if he were that bum?” Eva-Luke challenged her Sisters to remember their holy vows to treat all as they would their Lord and Savior.“Would the smell of Our Lord revolt you so?”

Eva-Luke shook her head sadly, opened the door and stepped inside the sun-drenched chapel. Daylight poured through the tall clerestory windows and imported stained glass. Walking past the dark gold helix of the miraculous staircase to her right, the Mother Superior approached the huddled figure, seemingly lost in prayer.

As she breathed in, the back of the chapel was filled with the spicy-pungent scent of the man, which seemed somehow familiar to her, not at all disgusting. His manly scent was a bit stronger than what might be expected in polite company, but given the desert remoteness of Santa Fe, it was not entirely beyond the pale. Most of the Sisters were not from this area, and were used to more refined standards of personal hygiene than were often available in the wild west, especially for travelers. Yet now, he seemed in obvious distress as she approached, his urgent whispers hushed in the vaulted ceiling.

“I am sorry to disturb your prayers, my son,”she began quietly, as she slid onto the bench, near the kneeling man.

“You are no disturbance, Katie,” the man said in a rich baritone voice, with a hint of a southern drawl. He raised his head and gazed at her with blue eyes made brilliant by the angled light of the tall windows.

Eva-Luke gasped at the name no one had called her in over fifteen years…at the bonnie blue eyes she thought never to behold again. The familiar face of her long lost beloved was still handsome, beneath the layers of dirt and sweat, but creased with lines of care and humor she did not recall. Silver threaded through his once black hair, and salted his unshaved jaw.

“Jacob?” she asked with a trembling voice. “Is it… Is it truly you?”

He nodded slowly, his eyes drinking her in.

Eva-Luke looked down awkwardly, fighting the unseemly impulse to embrace the lover she had once wronged and thought dead these last two decades. But when she looked up, it was with the cool, yet compassionate face of Mother Superior.

“Jacob Spencer… How is it that you have come here?” Her calm voice belied the chaos erupting throughout her well-ordered inner world.

“I came here for you,” was his soft, yet hopeful reply.

Her eyes grew huge as his simple words sunk in. Jacob always went straight to the point – a characteristic she had both loved and deplored in him. She always knew where she stood with him.

“I didn’t know you had taken the veil until I after got here,” he continued, gazing on her with sad, hungry eyes. “If I had, I would not have presumed…I am sorry to have disturbed your peace, Katie. Knowing you, I suspect it has been hard won. I should have left long ago, but I had to see you…even if all my hopes were dashed.”

“Jacob…I scarcely know what to say! I was told you were dead, killed in the war.” Her voice trembled, her heart racing, even as she struggled for composure. “I never thought to see you again in this life.”

“I know,” he admitted painfully. “After our last quarrel, in which you defended our old Southern way of life, despite its unjust ways, I was in such turmoil that I joined the Union Army. I fought against my own brothers and cousins for what I believed was right: to free my fellow man. Although I was gravely wounded in the war, I managed to slowly heal, even though the doctors had written me off. It was the thought of you that kept me alive, Katie.”

He paused to take a shakey breath before going on. “I went back home to Atlanta after the war, thinking to find you and beg you to marry me, despite the past, but you had moved off west. No one knew where you had gone. So I made my way down to New Orleans, where I had fairly decent luck as a building contractor. I made a fortune, but all was empty without you. I tried to love other women, but none of them could hold a candle to you, my brilliant Katie!”

Eva-Luke allowed a small smile at his declaration, but practiced self-control still held her boiling emotions in check. She searched his dirty, unshaven face, seeking the young Southern beau who had courted and won the heart of the southern belle she used to be… in another lifetime. The quiver-thrill through her veins told her that her love for him lived still, despite the years she tried in vain to forget him.

“Finally, I could not stand it anymore and resolved to find you, despite our sharp disagreements, ” he explained, as his thumb unconsciously caressed the engraved silver ring she had given him so long ago as a token of her love. “I figured now that the war is long concluded, the question of slavery should no longer be a dividing wedge between us. It took me three years of constant searching to find you, but I had to know what became of you. I expected you might be married, possibly even have a family, but I never expected to find you the bride of Christ.” Anguish knit his fine brow.

Eva-Luke looked to the white faux marble altar, stricken to the core. She tore her eyes away before they could rise to the pale crucifix above the altar.

“Oh Jacob! I was wrong…I was so wrong!” The words bubbled of out her, unbidden. “You were the one in the right! It was wrong of me to defend a way of life founded on the misery of others. You were right – I could never have been happy knowing my joy was built on the pain and suffering of others. I was a fool and did not know what I was doing. I have spent almost twenty years trying to make amends for that horrible mistake.”

“I knew you would see the truth someday,” Jacob told her with an easy grin. “I am glad I am here to see it. You always had a good heart – that’s what I so loved about you.”

“Can you ever forgive my stupid pig-headedness?”she asked, her whole body tingling inappropriately with his proximity.

“Of course I can,” he said, as he lifted her hand and kissed it tenderly, as tears sparkled in his eyes. “If you can forgive me for abandoning you so recklessly. I shouldn’t have left without saying goodbye.”

“Oh yes! I forgave you long ago,” she breathed, as she stared deep into his eyes, realizing that this was the atonement that evaded her for so long.

“So, what comes next?” he asked intently, as he began to bend closer to her.

Suddenly self-conscious, the Mother Superior removed her hand from his warm grasp. Jacob straightened and cleared his throat nervously in the long awkward pause.

“I don’t know,” she began. “My life is here, all of these people depend upon me. I have responsibilities and commitments.”

“Of course,” Jacob soothed with accustomed Southern chivalry masking his true feelings. “I understand. You have made your choice and I respect that. Twenty years is a long time to wait for me… too long. I only wanted to see you one last time in this weary life, to make sure you are happy… and I see this life agrees with you. I would not dream of disrupting your world. Even though you may be Mother Superior to everyone else, you will always be my Katie.”

Eva-Luke sat stunned as Jacob rose, picked up his dusty knapsack and worked his way out of the pew. A war raged within her as he left the sunlit chapel, his footstep echoing off the high gothic arches.

Two distinct futures loomed, her decision now would determine the shape of her life to come. On the one hand, she could go on with her accustomed busy routine, comfortably distracted and solving the problems of others until she dropped. Here, she was doing God’s work, answering the call to educate the young girls of this most unique of cities. But that meant trying to forget Jacob all over again – a labor compounded by the knowledge that he not only still lived, but also still loved her.

Or she could choose a totally unknown future with this man she had not seen for over twenty years, forsaking her responsibilities and her vows. What would the Sisters say if Mother Superior ran off with the smelly raggedy man? She could imagine the dismay that would cause.

Yet, Jacob’s return to her from the grave was nothing short of miraculous. This man had been her one great love in her life, long assumed forever lost, and never to be replaced. Whilst she might be useful and perhaps even content in the habit of a nun, never would she know true fulfillment at the convent, without the man of her dreams.

Jacob or God: what a cruel choice!

Behind her, the sisters began filing in and ascending the spiral staircase to the choir loft, with soft whispers and scuffling.

Eva-Luke turned her eyes to the pale crucifix above the altar, then up to the deep-hued stained glass window. As her eyes fixated on the multi-colored bits of glass, her embroiled spirit cried out for guidance. Closing her eyes, she prayed fervently for an answer.

Ave Maria, gratia plena, Dominus tecum. Benedicta tu in mulieribus, et benedictus fructus ventris tui, Iesus. Sancta Maria, Mater Dei, ora pro nobis peccatoribus, nunc, et in hora mortis nostrae. Amen.

A wave of peace washed over her, as she turned within. The small still voice within her assured that a loving God would never demand she choose Him over her beloved Jacob. She need not forsake one to gain the other. With a flash of insight, she realized that her vows to the Mother Church were not the same thing as her devotion to God. The Lord’s Providence was sufficient to allow her both to serve God and to have her heart’s dearest desire. She would just have to figure out a new way to make her contribution. The world suddenly seemed full of possibilities and miracles.

She knew that her work at the convent was done, this chapter of her life concluded. Her heart was ready for adventure, awaiting the opportunity to try its wings. Opening her eyes to behold the airy chapel, she realized that for the first time in over twenty years her heart was not burdened. She was redeemed in Jacob’s forgiveness. She knew what she had to do.

She opened the door to Loretto Chapel and stepped out into the brilliant sunlight. She turned and addressed the workman tending the nearby hedges.

“Carlos, did you see which direction that raggedy man went?”

The Hispanic groundskeeper stood respectfully to answer.

“Si, Madre. It looked to me like he was heading to the Plaza.”

“Gracias, Carlos. Please see to it that the leak in the roof of classroom two gets fixed before this afternoon’s monsoon arrives,”she said as she passed him.

She hurried her steps in the indicated direction, picking up speed as she spied Jacob’s tall form a few blocks ahead of her. Reaching up, she loosened the dark habit that had covered her wheat-gold hair for the past twelve years and pulled it off.

“Jacob! It’s me – Katie! Wait for me!” she called after him, as he stopped and turned to face her with a surprised smile lighting up his face. “I’m coming!”

 

 

Please come back tomorrow for the next installment of "Within These Chapel Walls"