Looking for Jane (19)
“How can we stay here?” Evelyn says to Maggie, then turns to Agatha. “How can you stay here? How can you continue to…” She can’t find the words. “Adopting the babies is one thing, but selling them?”
Sister Agatha’s chest rises and falls with a deep breath. “I will pray on it. I hope God will guide me. Perhaps He had Sister Teresa assign me the upstairs cleaning tonight for a reason. So that I could run into you and know this.”
Maggie scoffs.
“I’m not sure I believe in that,” Evelyn says.
“You don’t have to.”
“We need to get out of here, Sister Agatha. I can’t let them sell my baby. Leo’s baby. Oh my God. Maggie? What do we do?”
Maggie’s eyes are heavy. “Evelyn, what do you mean, ‘get out of here’? We have nowhere else to go.”
* * *
After speaking with Agatha, Evelyn goes to bed early and without dinner. With a twinge of guilt, she ignores Maggie’s concerned inquiries, muttering that she’s feeling nauseous and doesn’t want to be disturbed. The truth is that she needs time and space to think, two things that are in short supply inside the home.
She desperately wants to confront Sister Teresa about the massive deception she’s orchestrating against all the girls, but she doesn’t even know where to begin. Her heart breaks for the other girls, for Maggie, but the selfish part of her is fixated on her own baby. What would Leo think of her, if she didn’t at least try to prevent their child from being sold to some strange family?
By the time Evelyn has come to her decision, the other girls have finished dinner. She feigns sleep, holding her round belly as her baby rolls and pushes against her hands from inside. Legitimate or not, she knows this baby is a miracle. She lies awake long after her roommates are all in their beds. Maggie often has bad dreams and wakes up in a hot sweat, but the absence of whimpers in the bed beside Evelyn tells her that her friend is chasing sleep tonight, too.
The following day, Evelyn wanders down the hallway that is now filled with nothing but the damp smell of winter slush and the memory of the terrible conversation between the Watchdog and Father Leclerc.
“You may enter,” Sister Teresa calls in response to Evelyn’s polite knock.
Evelyn takes a deep breath, hitches a stiff smile onto her face, and turns the handle. She has only been in here once, shortly after the new year for her half-term health care update, which lasted less than five minutes. Now Sister Teresa is seated at her desk, surrounded by stacks of paper and a pile of addressed envelopes that catch Evelyn’s eye; she recognizes her brother’s address in her own handwriting on the top of the pile.
“Yes, Evelyn. What do you want?” The Watchdog’s round face is tucked tightly beneath the fabric of her habit. The wire-rimmed glasses perch on top of a button nose, magnifying the coldness of the grey eyes behind them.
“Yes,” Evelyn says, noting that the nun does not invite her to sit. She intends for this to be a short meeting.
“Yes, Sister Teresa.”
“Yes, Sister Teresa.”
“What do you wish to speak to me about? Make it quick, Evelyn. I am rather busy at the moment and, if I am not mistaken, I believe you should be in the kitchen right now.”
Evelyn clears her throat and rests her hands on her large belly. “It’s about my baby, Sister. I’m not reconsidering an adoption, but I—I was rather hoping my brother and his wife might be willing to take it.”
“Mmm. I see.” Sister Teresa sets her pencil down and surveys Evelyn, who stands straighter, squaring her shoulders and trying to look more mature, like a woman who can make her own decisions. But the nun’s gaze nails her to the office wall like a pin in a butterfly specimen and she feels even smaller than before.
“Do you know, Evelyn, that while you are staying here with us, you are housed, fed, and clothed, completely free of charge?”
Evelyn wants to shift her weight but keeps her feet firmly in place. “Yes, Sister Teresa.”
“We do not charge a housing fee here because the work we do is philanthropic, driven solely by our faith and our love for God. Our mission is to reform our girls and show them a path, light the way with the love of our Lord and Saviour. In return, we expect obedience, humility, adherence to the rules of our faith and this establishment, and that you work for your keep. That is all we demand in return. If you want to give your baby to your brother, then he and his wife can house you, feed you, clothe you, reform you, and provide corrective nourishment for your wayward soul. If they are, as you suggest, so interested in the prospect of adopting your child, I would assume this option was offered to them prior to your mother making the arrangement for you to stay with us?”
Evelyn’s mouth has gone dry. “I don’t know. I wasn’t—No one asked me.”
“You will relinquish your baby at the end of your term. That is all.”
“But I’ve written to my brother already.” Evelyn finds her voice again, gestures at the envelope on the warden’s desk. “I truly believe he might say yes!” Her hopeful eyes search the Watchdog’s face for some trace of compassion or understanding, some long-forgotten depth of feeling.
But the nun’s mouth twists into a sneer of a smile, revealing a straight line of pure white teeth. “Well, then. Let’s just wait and see if he responds, shall we?”