Page 40

CHAPTER 40

Skye

“T hank you, Sister Marie, for meeting with me on such short notice.”

“Of course, my dear. Anything for you.”

Clad in her black and white nun’s bib, we’re sitting side by side on the bench where we always sat. The rehab center’s park-like grounds are still under the spell of summer. Beneath the mid-afternoon sun, the leaves of the trees glimmer like emeralds, the surrounding flowers and shrubs like other precious gems.

Patients, dressed in bathrobes, stroll by. Many escorted by nurses, others on their own. Some are in wheelchairs. Memories of my time here swirl around in my head. Three and a half years of recovery. With bumps in the road and mountains to climb. Sometimes, it was so painful, so exhausting I wanted to give up. But Sister Marie, God bless her, never let me. She made me persevere, always telling me there was a light at the end of the tunnel. That some people get new hearts; others new limbs. A few like me, new lives.

“We miss you,” she says, cutting into my mental ramblings.

“I miss you too. How’s Sally doing?”

Sally is an inpatient who was abused by her husband. He almost beat her to death.

“She’s progressing beautifully. She’s strong enough to testify at his trial.”

I smile. “That’s great.”

“What about you?”

I answer with silence. I let the choir of chirping birds fill the air around us. Sister Marie’s brows knit together.

“Something’s wrong.” She knows me so well.

I nod.

She tenderly cups a warm hand on one of mine. “Tell me, my dear.”

I collect my thoughts like someone frantically gathering their treasured possessions at the onset of a fire.

“Finn . . . ”

“What about Finn?” She knows all about my husband.

“He’s my employer. I’m working for him. I homeschool his daughter.”

“You mean your daughter.” If she’s surprised, she doesn’t show it. “How wonderful!”

“No, Sister, it’s not wonderful. Sometimes it’s closer to torture.” A pregnant pause. “He’s engaged to another.”

Sister Marie nods pensively. “I see.”

“I want to quit. Go some place far away from them.”

“And leave the man you love? And your beloved daughter... when God has sent you to them?”

I nod again. My head stays bowed down in shame. I make my confession.

“Last night he kissed me. It was a fluke thing. But he ignited a fire inside me. A fire I can’t put out.”

Tears rise to my eyes. Spilling onto my lap, they can’t extinguish my pain. Or despair.

“My dear, look up. Please listen to me.”

My eyes still watering, I do as she asks. A heart-wrenching story unfolds. A revelation I’m not prepared for. I listen sans interruptions. Sister Marie was in love once. With her high school sweetheart. They made love. She lost her virginity. He was drafted. Vietnam. She got pregnant. Her mother, a strict Catholic, forced her to keep the baby. Instead, she secretly got an abortion. Her mother found out and disowned her. He came back. Except with his new, beautiful Asian wife-to-be.

Absorbed in this sad saga, close to tears, I ask, “What happened?”

“I gave in. I didn’t fight for him.”

“Why?” I ask softly, feeling her pain.

“I was too insecure. Not strong enough. I turned to God, the only man I thought who could love me. Save me. Forgive me.”

Silence, then she breaks it.

“Skye, my dear. You are a much stronger woman than I was. You valiantly fought for your life and won. Now, fight for your m an. Make him fall in love with you again.”

I fidget with the locket around my neck.

“How do I do that? I can’t compete with his fiancée. He’s beholden to her. She’s given him everything. Single-handedly made his career.”

“But you gave him a child. And your heart.”

I suck in a lungful of air. “She’s a powerhouse. Manipulative and possessive.”

“Just be yourself.”

“But I’m such a different person.”

“People don’t change that much. Especially on the inside.” She pauses. “He’ll come back.”

She glances into the horizon. “Fate is God’s way of dealing cards. You’ve been dealt your hand. Now, my dear, play it to your advantage.”

Gripping her sturdy hand, I watch as the fiery August sun dips into the mellow turquoise sky.

I came here with my heart filled with despair.

I’m leaving with hope.

I hug Sister Marie, ready to begin a new leg of my journey.