Page 21 of The Baby-whisperer and the Brute
“Yes, Mother. I will. I promise.”
Kissing her cheek first, I walked directly to the back door, not bothering to stop and change my shoes but grabbing my sneakers and bringing them outside with me. I sat on a rusted patio chair to tie them then literally ran to the Bluff Walk and opened the gate that separated my family’s property from the public path.
Instead of going to the path’s midpoint, I walked only a short distance before turning and heading into the Wessexes’ back yard.
I was grateful for the tall, thick privacy hedge that shielded it from the view of the neighboring properties on both sides. As I walked to the back doors of the Wessex mansion, I glanced at the hedge on the other side, the one that bordered the Reece estate.
Was he home? He might be just on the other side of that green wall.
I was shocked by the strength of the urge I felt to tiptoe over and find out. Instead, I went to Cinda’s back door and knocked.
A servant with a posh European accent answered and invited me to come inside and wait in a gleaming formal parlor. Feeling every bit the outsider I was, I followed the woman and took a seat in one of two upholstered damask wingback chairs flanking the elegant cast-stone fireplace.
Within minutes Cinda joined me. She rushed into the parlor. “Angelina! I’m so happy to see you.”
“I hope I’m not bothering you. You’re probably busy, but I was able to get away for a few minutes, and I thought I’d take the chance and see—”
Cinda cut me off, coming to me and taking both my hands with a friendly squeeze. “I’m thrilled. Really. And not busy at all. Alex has taken AJ out to the beach, and I was just about to sit down for a cup of tea. Can you stay and join me?”
The tightness in my chest loosened at the warm welcome. “Yes, thank you. I’d love one.”
“Wonderful.” Cinda settled into the chair next to mine. “So what’s going on? How has your week been?”
“Honestly? It’s been awful.”
“Oh no. What happened?”
“Nothing happened. It’s just… I feel all… upended.”
“I see. Do you know why?”
Shaking my head, I searched for words to express the upheaval that had filled my mind in recent days.
“My life has always been very… predictable. There were no surprises, no real questions to wrestle with. I was on a certain path, and I was at least fairly sure it was where I should be. But ever since your party, I’ve felt like a sail that’s torn loose from its mast, like I’m swinging free and flapping back and forth in the wind. It’s kind of scary.”
“Changecanbe frightening,” Cinda said. “It can also be a good thing.”
I nodded, fervently hoping she was right. “I thought about what you said the other day—about having a dream and following your heart. I’m not really used to looking at my heart too closely, but I’ve been trying lately. And the thing is… when I look at mine… it’s not a very happy picture.”
“I thought maybe that was the case, but you never really know about someone else. I think you’re very brave to admit it.”
Cinda’s sympathetic gaze was too much to bear. I tore my eyes away from it and looked down at my own lap. “I’m not sure if it’s bravery or if I’m really chicken. Maybe I’m just scared of making a lifelong commitment.”
“Youshouldbe cautious. From what I understand, going into religious service is like taking wedding vows, right? That’s not something you enter into lightly.”
“That’s true,” I nodded. “The sisters said it would be a mistake to make the choice without deep, prayerful consideration. Becoming a nun isn’t meant to be an escape from the outside world, but something to be joyfully entered into because you just can’t imagine doing anything else with your life—because you want it more than anything. They said a candidate should be very, very sure before entering the monastic enclosure for the postulancy period. That’s why the stages of formation last so long in the first place, so we can make certain it’s what we really want before taking the vows.”
“And you’renotcertain.” It was a statement, not a question. And Cinda was right.
“I’m having serious doubts… for many reasons,” I admitted. “But I don’t know hownotto do it at this point.”
Cinda leaned closer and cocked her head. “What do you mean?”
“My mother is very… invested in this. She believes with all her heart it’s my life’s calling. I can’t even talk to her about any other possibilities. And somehow…”
I stopped talking and dropped my face into my open palms, hiding it. “…it’s too embarrassing. I’m sorry I’m even bothering you with this.”
“I’m not bothered in the least, and you shouldn’t be embarrassed. I’m very interested, and I promise you, questioning your life choices—especially a commitment like this one—is a good thing. Thinking for yourself is a good thing. So what were you saying? Somehow…”
