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A wooden building with slanted walls and windows at the base.“This is a Catholic church?”
“Yes,” he said.“They have a clothing shelf.I’ll be back.”
Oh.She got off and headed to the building while he drove away.
The door was open, and she walked inside.Light streamed from a tall triangular stained-glass window onto the gleaming wood sanctuary.At the side and front, small altars held Virgin Mary statuary, a crucifix at the head altar.
The place smelled of peace and quiet and sanctuary.
“May I help you?”said a nun.Her brown eyes, as warm as her smile, took one look at Austen and said, “Oh, I see.Let’s get you some clothes.”
And that’s how Austen found herself at a rack, searching for the right attire.
And maybe the sun had gone to her head, turned her a little crazy, but she was actually considering the purple sundress with the puffy short sleeves and slit up the side.
“We get so many people discarding their clothing to make room for souvenirs,” said the nun, who’d introduced herself as Sister Clare and opened the closet and allowed her to rifle through the offerings.
Probably not the purple sundress, but maybe too many choices.White linen pants, sandals, sleeveless shirts, sundresses, hats.Even bikini coverups.
She found a pair of flowered leggings that looked like something out of the seventies, and then, just because, a yellow crop top with puffy sleeves and a boat neck.She used the church bathroom to change, then donned a pair of worn white Converse tennis shoes.As she stared at herself in the mirror, she felt, well, nearly normal.
She dropped her pajamas in the trash.Not that she didn’t love them, but she just...
well, Declan had purchased them for her.And Declan...
Was complicated.And kind.And sweet and...Oh,she should have trusted him.
Of course, his words tiptoed into her head.“I am doing the right thing.But sometimes doing the right thing requires you to do some, well, some bad stuff to get it done.”
Wasn’t that the definition of Stein, and his job as a soldier?And she didn’t see him as evil.No, Stein was...
Had been...a good man.
She stood in front of the sink, stared at herself.Slightly sunburned, her hair a disaster, but her reflection surprised her.
She saw determination.Strength.Courage.And Declan’s words strummed into her.“You have this aura about you that doesn’t seem to be shaken by the events around you.”
Maybe it had been an act before.
But not now.
Stillwas different from paralyzed, or frozen.
When she emerged from the bathroom, Sister Clare had disappeared.She looked around, wanting to thank her, and found the nun in a small chapel off the main sanctuary.She was lighting a candle in a stand before a statuette.
A black statuette of the Virgin Mary.About three feet tall, it wore a crown encrusted with pearls, and a red ruby necklace, its head bowed in prayer.
Austen gaped, staring at it.
Sister Clare turned.“You found clothing.”
She’d found more than that.“Is this...”She stepped up to the statue.“Is this the Santa María de la Paz—the Black Madonna of Hispaniola?”
Sister Clare glanced back at the Madonna.“She is a replica of the sacred relic from Father Hagarty, a Benedictine monk who helped found this church.It was originally given to him by the Monastery of San Francisco, in Santo Domingo.Old, yes, but—” She sighed.“Not the original.”
Austen stepped up to the statue.It didn’t look worn by the sea, the marble polished and shiny.And light glinted off the red ruby inlaid in the necklace.
Sister Clare drew closer.“She is beautiful.And nearly as perfect as the original.So close, it’s hard to tell the difference, isn’t it?”