The Virgin. Tiffany Reisz
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don’t let today be the day he finally kills her.”
Once more her mother kissed her on the forehead and then hurried away before Elle could say another word.
Something turned in Elle’s heart, turned like a knob on a telescope. For the first time, Elle looked through the eyepiece of her mother’s heart, and now, this moment, the light had come into focus and Elle saw what her mother saw—a daughter she didn’t understand in love with a powerful, dangerous man twice her size who couldn’t make love to her without hurting her first. And every day she feared he would go too far and kill her only child. Every time her mother looked at Elle, that’s what she saw. For one second, Elle saw it, too.
“Behind the curtain,” Sister Aquinas said. “I’ll be right there.”
Dazed by her vision, Elle did as told, walking behind the curtain and sitting numbly on the hospital cot.
Sister Aquinas came around with a towel in her hand. She tossed it on the side table and put her hands on either side of Elle’s neck.
“How are you feeling?” she asked.
“Oh...I’m fine,” Elle said.
“Are you sure about that? Your eyes are bloodshot. Are you on drugs?”
“Nothing illegal. I had some nausea.”
“Have you been vomiting?”
“A few times.”
“Are you pregnant?”
“Not since Monday night.”
Sister Aquinas blinked at her. But it was only one blink, one pause.
“Miscarriage?”
“No.”
“I see.” Sister Aquinas took a long breath. “Surgical or medical?”
“Medical.”
“Miferprex?” Sister Aquinas asked.
“Yes.”
“When?”
“First pills on Monday. Second pill on Wednesday.”
“Today’s Friday,” Sister Aquinas said. “So five days then.” She was speaking to herself. “Have you been to a doctor since Wednesday?”
“No.”
“How severe was the bleeding?”
“Heavy. Very heavy.”
“It’s lighter now?”
“Much.”
“Did you take anything else?” Sister Aquinas pulled out a scope and looked in Elle’s ears.
“Nothing else.”
“They should have given you Tylenol and Compazine.”
“I had a prescription for them,” Elle said. “But I was too sick to go get them filled.”
“You didn’t have anyone to help you? The father?”
“No.”
Sister Aquinas sighed heavily. “It’s times like this I remember why I became a nun.”
Elle laughed. “Because you hate men?”
“No. I never wanted to go through anything alone again.”
“Thank you for being nice about this,” Elle said.
“I’m a doctor. Just because I don’t agree with a certain medical procedure, it doesn’t mean I didn’t learn about it in medical school.”
“You’re a doctor? I thought you were a nun.”
“I’m both. I have some painkillers here. I can give you something for your nausea if you still need it.”
“I think I’m done puking.”
“You’ll probably bleed for a few weeks. That’s normal. But I want you to come back here in a week. We can do a sonogram.”
Elle stared at her wide-eyed.
“You can do that here? You get a lot of knocked-up nuns in here?”
Sister Aquinas smiled. “Kidney stones. I see a lot of those.”
“I see.” Elle rolled back onto the cot while Sister Aquinas prodded her stomach. “I’m going to be okay, aren’t I?”
“Okay? Physically, yes. You’ll be fine. Emotionally and spiritually? That’s between you and God. But if any place can help you get right with God, it’s here.”
“I don’t regret it,” Elle said, and she meant every word.
“Pride is a sin, young lady.”
“Put it on my tab.”
“God sees the heart,” was all Sister Aquinas said to that.
Sister Aquinas continued her perfunctory examination. She made no further comment about Elle’s choice or her spiritual state. But when Elle took her shirt off, Sister Aquinas froze. It was only for an instant, and unlike Mother Prioress, no Catholic oaths were released.
“It’s not as bad as it looks,” Elle said. “Only welts and bruises.”
“Did the man who got you pregnant do this to you?”
“Yes,” Elle said. It wasn’t a lie. Søren had been in Rome ten weeks, and Kingsley had been her only lover in that time. No doubt who the father was.
Sister Aquinas placed her hand gently on the top of Elle’s head. It felt like a blessing although what she’d done to deserve a blessing, Elle didn’t know.
“God sees the heart,” Sister Aquinas said again. This time it didn’t sound like a platitude. This time it sounded like an apology.
Sister Aquinas applied some sort of cream to her bruised back and gave her a week’s supply of a mild painkiller. Elle accepted the pills with gratitude. It would be nice to be out of pain again. Even better than drugs, Sister Aquinas brought her a tray of food. Last night’s leftovers warmed up, but Elle ate every single bite of it.
“Feeling better?” Sister Aquinas asked when she came for the tray.
“Much better. Almost human.”
“Good. We like humans around here,” she said with a smile. “Sister Mary John will be back soon. Lie down and get some rest.”
Rest sounded heavenly. And rest was heavenly. The pillow under her head felt like a cloud. The plain white cotton sheets might as well have been silk. She was safe, safe at last. And now, now she could finally sleep.
Elle closed her eyes.
Then she heard a noise.
She sat straight up in the cot, her heart hammering against her chest.
Seemingly of its own volition, her body forced her onto her feet, her feet forced her forward. Her steps brought her to the window in the infirmary. It was well after 2:00 a.m. and all was dark for miles around. Elle could see the moon and the stars and the slight reflection of them both on the rolling hills, the fields and forests that surrounded the abbey. She saw nothing else. But she didn’t have to see it. She heard it.
“What is that?” Sister Aquinas asked, coming to stand next to her. “Is that a car out there?”
“No,” Elle said, her voice hollow and scared. “It’s a motorcycle.”
“How can you tell?”
“I know cars,” she said. “And I know motorcycles. That’s a 1992 907 I.E. Ducati. Black.”
Sister Aquinas laughed. “You know the color?”
“That’s the only year they came in black.”