[Veronica, who had once been a nun, learns that her daughter intends to join a convent]
It was the last week of July before they had their talk. Dan had gone away on a weekend retreat with the Knights of Columbus and Veronica could find no excuse. She had gone upstairs early and was sitting at her vanity brushing her hair when Natalie came in. She had on a blue and white robe that Mrs. Thiell had given her as a graduation present. Her hair had grown again and in the lamplight it was soft and filled with gold lights.
Without warning Veronica’s whole body reached for her as it had when Natalie was still an infant, when her breasts had spilled milk in their yearning to nourish the child whose mouth groped toward them. All the tightness of her body relaxed and she longed to take Natalie in her arms, to suckle her and protect her as she had when she was a baby, replenishing her life with her own. Then Natalie was standing next to her, standing over her, looking down on her and Veronica knew she had lost.
It was too hot even for a sheet but she pulled the sheet up anyway. She needed something to protect her, something to shield her and hold her together. She had thought that no pain could be greater than the anguished night following Natalie’s accident. She knew now she had been wrong. She had prayed for a child without blemish and Natalie had been given to her. Natalie—obedient, intelligent, loveable, winsome. And now she was being taken away. There was nothing Veronica could do to stop her going. It was a perfect trap—like one of those vicious snares where every effort to loosen one section only pulls another section cripplingly tighter. God had never forgiven her. The prayers, the penances—none of it was enough when balanced against her broken vows. Only God could have shaped so perfect a punishment. She had refused to let Him have her life so He would take the life that meant more to her than her own.
The next evening Natalie told Dan. “You’re going to help me, aren’t you?” she asked Veronica. “Daddy is going to mind it a lot, I know. He’s like that. He’s not strong as you are.”
Veronica promised: she would help. She would say practical things like
’Now, Dan, don’t make it harder for Natalie” and “After all it’s a great privilege”
and “She’ll always be well taken care of.”
After supper Natalie took her father’s hand and they walked out into the garden. Veronica could see them through the kitchen window while she washed the dishes. Natalie was sitting on the porch chair with a heavy cushion to support her back and Dan was sitting on the white bench he had just repainted. She saw Dan look up startled and then put his head in his hands and his elbows on his knees. She watched Natalie stand and go over to her father and then Dan stand, too, and put his arms around her. She watched until she could bear it no more; then she plunged her hands into the scalding water in the dish pan and kept them there.
That night when they were in bed, Dan said, “What do you think?”
Veronica, although she had planned and practiced, when the question came she couldn’t answer.
“My God, Veronica, I never thought of it—and that’s the truth. She said to me out there, “Didn’t you ever think of it, Daddy? Not even when I was at The Academy and I used to be so crazy about the nun?” And I had to say I never did. She’s like a little girl to me.”
“She almost eighteen, Dan, and ready for college.”
“But my God, Veronica, going off to hide herself away in a convent before she’s ever had a taste of life. Do you think that’s right?”
No, she wanted to cry, No. I think it’s terrible. I think it’s cruel and unfair but instead she said, “Natalie is very mature for her age.”
“Just the same, I wish she’d wait a while.”
“You’d feel the same whenever she went.”
He sighed. “I suppose you’re right. The fact is I can’t imagine the house without her. I guess parents are never satisfied. I used to worry myself sick because I thought Bessie was heading straight for hell and now this one is heading for heaven and I’m still complaining.”
He leaned over and rested his face against her breast and she could feel his tears. She took her hand and rubbed them away and he held her closer.
“I thank God for you every day of my life,” he said, kissing her. “You’ve brought me everything good, Veronica; do you know that? I used to think when Bessie was little that I’d never have real peace and happiness again and then one day Bessie came home from school all excited. ‘We’ve got a new teacher,’ she said, ‘and her name is Miss Dorgan.’ I don’t know how I can complain to God about anything when He has sent me you.” She lay still in his arms, wondering how long it would be before she went crazy with the pain of it.