Page 32 of The Baby-whisperer and the Brute
Besides, if I was going into postulancy at the end of the summer, it would be foolish to spend a lot of money on clothing I’d never wear again.
My mind still wasn’t made up concerning my future plans. In the case Ididn’tmove into the monastery, I would need a place to live and tuition money for college, so either way, it made sense to be minimalistic when it came to possessions.
I didn’t expect Sullivan to understand. His lifestyle and taste were extravagant to say the least. His favorite saying was, “if some is good, more is better,” and it showed in everything from the contents of the fully stocked oversized refrigerator, to the home décor, to the toys in his daughters’ rooms and playroom.
Their closets, too, were brimming with the largest collection of children’s clothing I had ever seen.
It was like Sullivan had gone through a catalog, trying to decide what to order and had given up and purchased one of everything in each of their sizes. In fact, he probably had.
It was obvious he enjoyed owning nice things andlotsof them, and he enjoyed buying things for his daughters, encouraging me to take them shopping whenever they wanted to go.
He was, in a word, a spoiler. It was kind of sweet, really.
He didn’t look very sweet at the moment. His prominent forehead was creased with frown lines, and the corners of his usually smiling mouth were pinched.
Apparently, my answer hadnotpleased him.
“I gave you a credit card. I expected you to use it.”
Why was he so perturbed? “I did. I used it to buy the things Skyla and Claire wanted.”
“I meant for you to get some stuff for yourself too,” he said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “You shouldn’t have to wear the same things all the time. I want you to go shopping again and this time get some clothes for yourself—good clothes—things you really like. Andthis time, put it on my card.”
“You don’t need to buy me clothes,” I protested. “If you don’t like what I’ve been wearing, I’ll go get a few new things on my own, and—”
Sully’s fork clanked against his plate as he dropped it in order to gesture with his hands.
“It’s not that I don’t like what you’re wearing. I just want you to have everything you need. I want you to be happy here. You do so much for all of us. I want you to feel like you’re being well-treated.”
I blinked in surprise. “I do. Of course I do. You bought me a phone. You gave me room and board, and you pay me very well.”
“But you don’tspendanything.”
“Well… I’m not used to spending a lot on myself. And I’m saving my money.”
“For what?”
“For when the summer ends,” I said quietly.
The frown lines deepened. “Whatareyour plans by the way? You’ve never said.”
My breath caught. I hadn’t mentioned the monastery to him. Apart from discussing the girls, our conversations had been limited to the topics of his career and travels.
As far as my own life, I hadn’t spoken much about it—mostly because there was so little to tell but also because I didn’t want tothinkabout it.
I was enjoying my reprieve even more than I’d expected to. Thinking about what came next made me anxious.
Thinking about how my mother was getting along without me made me feel guilty.
Even when Sully had specifically asked about my personal life, I had turned the focus to stories about my work with the kids at the preschool, leaving out my strange upbringing and my mother’s grand plan.
All I’d told him about my family was that I had precious little of it and that my mother was extremely religious and overprotective. He knew we’d had a falling out over me taking the job, but I hadn’t gone into detail.
“I’m… not entirely sure,” I said in answer to his question. “Most likely I’ll move to New Jersey.”
He blinked in surprise. “New Jersey? What’s there?”
“The St. Wallaburga Monastery. It’s a community of Benedictine Sisters.”
