Redemption (14 page)

“Uggg,” I mumbled as I slid inside Monroe’s pristine white Cadillac.

Even her car was still stuck somewhere in the late 50’s and it was disgustingly clean. In my mottled state of irritation, I wanted desperately to mess it up. Monroe slid in beside me and gave me the "don’t even think about it" raised brow. I grumbled. It made me wish I’d driven my messy, old clunker.

“Let me guess. You spent the whole day re-writing James’ paper,” Monroe stated before turning the key in the ignition and backing out of the parking lot. I gave her the evil eye.

“You underestimate my stubbornness, dear Roe."

 She laughed. She knew better than to ask. I was so worked up, I could cry. And that made me even more upset.  I tend to cry when I’m angry which only serves to piss me off more and make me cry harder. It made me feel weak, and I was NOT weak.

“Oh well,” Monroe soothed. “It’s Friday. And, from what I overheard this morning, you have an interesting weekend ahead.”

 I saw the humor in her eyes, and I almost laughed. Monroe loved to re-invent moments almost as much as I did. She was in invention mode.

“Your aunt has invited a mystery man for dinner,” Monroe began, her voice husky. It reminded me of the narrator off one of Monroe’s movies.

“A recruiter,” I corrected.

She gave me a look.

“Let me have my moment,” she complained. I snickered.

"Then, by all means, continue."

“Ok, just imagine,” she said with a big wave of her hand.        

“He’s dark and elusive with a manly jaw covered in five o’clock shadow, jeans slung low on the waist, and no t-shirt. His chest is tan and muscled and, ten minutes into the meal, he offers to give you a private massage. Mmmmmm,yummy." She sighed dreamily, leaning over me just long enough to pull down the glove compartment. I ogled the bag of dumdums that stared back at me. God, she was terrific!

“If it’s Mr. James, you can have the massage,” I said as I filched a sucker and popped it into my mouth. I closed the compartment with my knee.

“I’ll take it! A man that uptight has to be passionate. God knows, we all have to find release somehow,” Monroe pointed out.

I shook my head and snorted. I so didn’t miss the implication. 

“You missed your calling in life, writing hyped up, cheesy romance novels,” I goaded.

She flipped me the bird. Besides, only Monroe would consider a recruiter "date" material. Her mother would hyperventilate if she knew Monroe was a glutton for older men and, when I say older men, I mean quite a bit beyond the suitable few years older age gap. Mature she called it. I insisted she just didn’t know a better word for geezer.

“Feel free to be my stand in,” I said as we moved onto the lane that led up to the Abbey.

“And have your aunt threaten to have my family burned at the stake. No thanks,” Monroe spat.

I laughed. Monroe’s Wiccan upbringing made my aunt cringe. It had taken threatening my own conversion to Wicca to convince my aunt to let Monroe stay on Abbey property. The whole friendship was not debatable.

“You think it’s serious?” I asked after a pause.

I was worried. And I wasn’t really all that good at hiding it. Monroe looked at me askance.

“I don’t,” she said. Her face was scrunched, her pitiful attempt at neutral. She noticed I noticed and shrugged.

“I don’t know, Dayton. I honestly think you need to leave the Abbey. The vision . . . what Jacin said about Lady Ky's aura . . . it's all messed up. But, if I can’t convince you to leave then worrying about it isn’t going to get us anywhere. If it’s bad, we’ll figure it out,” she said as she pulled to a stop in front of the Abbey.

I sat there a minute, my gaze staring but not really seeing a thing. My aunt was always vague. And I had made myself sick thinking about this whole week. Something just
felt
wrong. Finally, I moved.

“It’ll be fine,” I mumbled, taking the dumdum out of my mouth before sticking it sucker down on the seat next to me. She didn’t notice, but she would later. Monroe patted the steering wheel.

“That’s the spirit! Text me!” she said as I climbed out in front of the Abbey. I leaned in and flipped her back the bird.

“Well then!” she gasped dramatically as I slammed the door with a laugh.

We were a "flip the bird" and "roll our eyes" kind of group, mainly out of habit rather than a need to be cliché. There was comfort in habit. I grinned at Monroe as I backed away. It ended shortly when my back came up against a familiar stoic figure. I closed my eyes briefly, opening them only long enough to see Monroe’s sympathetic frown as she pulled away from the curb.

“The school called,” Aunt Kyra said.

I rolled my eyes before turning to meet her gaze.

“I made one request, Dayton, and you not only refused to do it but clearly disrespected a teacher and me. What were you thinking? The things you said to him . . . Dayton, you know better.”

I didn’t even attempt to argue with her. She’d not only give me fits about the whole ordeal, but begin a rather lengthy lecture on morality. She looked disappointed. I knew the look well.

“Dayton, I’m only trying my best to look out for you."

 I just shook my head. Sometimes I think Aunt Kyra really tried, and I’m pretty positive that I wasn’t the easiest teenager to foster, but she never attempted to understand me. I wanted to be closer to her, but I didn’t want to sacrifice my own personality to do it.

“Tell me what you want to hear,” I offered, preparing myself for a verbal bashing, but Ky surprised me when she pointed at the Abbey’s arched entryway instead. She wasn’t looking at me; though I could tell her lips were clenched tight enough they were turning white.

“We’ll discuss this at dinner, Dayton. This weekend could mean a lot for you."

 She reached up and brushed a stray curl out of my face, her eyes watching me intently. I think I reminded her of mom sometimes. Not so much in looks, but in character.

“Oh Dayton . . . the man you’ll be meeting Sunday . . . give him a chance, please. He’s not your average guest. He has plans for you. We
all
have plans for you,” Aunt Kyra pleaded.

I narrowed my eyes. The mystery man again.

“What kind of recruiter am I meeting?” I asked. She didn’t answer, just motioned to the Abbey again.

“Just give him a chance,” she repeated as she brushed passed me and headed for the chapel side of the Abbey. It was probably to pray for my soul. It wouldn’t help.

“A hint?” I asked sarcastically as she continued to move away.

“I’ll see you at dinner,” she called out.

Her silence on the subject unnerved me so much, I shivered. I was used to my aunt being vague but never this vague. Something was up. My imagination was working overtime, and as I opened the door to the inner sanctum, I began picturing Monroe’s shirtless male creation. It made me giggle despite the gnawing in my gut. Not because the scene was giggle worthy, but because the location was. A Mississippi Abbey love affair. Yeah right. My phone went off, and I looked down at the text message on my screen.

Come stay with me if you need to, Day.

I smiled as I moved to the stairs. Sometimes it seemed Monroe could read my feelings entirely too well.

You better be txting at a red light

I texted back as I pushed open the door to my room.

Yes’m *Big Salute*

I chuckled.

Chapter 10

The Other has me confounded. He is lawless but remains on the outskirts of his own kind. He seems to seek only to indulge himself with no ultimate goal. What could he want?

~Bezaliel~

Dinner came too quickly that night, and I made my way warily down to the refectory.

“Try smiling, Day. You look like you’re headed for the guillotine,” Amber murmured as she passed by me on the stairs.

I attempted the smile but only ended up grimacing. Easy enough for her to say. I felt the spirit of Marie Antoinette keenly tonight. Seemed appropriate my middle name was Marie. It wasn’t hard to imagine the executioner grinning at me from the bottom of the stairs. I waved my hand through the smoky vision as I moved to the open door.

“Good evening Amber, Dayton,” Sister Pauline said merrily as we entered the refectory.

The long table was crowded with Sisters and novices. Aunt Kyra sat at the head.

“Girls,” Aunt Kyra said, her hand motioning to the two seats at her side.

I found the gesture disturbing. I let Amber take the right. We hadn’t been seated by Aunt Kyra since the Abbey move seven years before. It seemed somehow significant. The table was quiet as we took our seats. As the last ones to arrive, we were immediately led into prayer. We complied by bowing our heads. Aunt Kyra said grace then recommended we commence with the meal. Chatter filtered down the table. It made the room hum. Normally, we were forced into silence at meal times. The chatter was strange.

“The Abbess spoke to us about your day at school,” Sister Rosaline said suddenly from my left. I froze.

“My day?” I asked carefully.

The Sister looked down at her hands. All eyes seemed glued to the discussion.  A lump formed in my throat. The dinner chatter made sense now.
This
was what my aunt meant when she’d said
we’d
discuss it at dinner? I felt fury burn my cheeks.

“You made my day Abbey business?” I asked Aunt Kyra furiously.

Aunt Ky let her gaze move slowly down the table, taking the time to pause on each face before finally deigning to give me her full attention. I was keenly aware of my place at the bottom of the totem pole.

“The Sisters are your family, Day. We are all worried about you,” Aunt Kyra answered me calmly. I actually growled.

“
This
was
my
problem, not the so called family’s. The Sisters are
your
Order, not mine,” I said stonily.

Aunt Kyra didn’t even blink. She took a bite of bread and nodded her head at one of the Sisters further down the table. Sister Katherine stood up hesitantly.

“We could help you, if you like, Dayton. There are much better ways to deal with situations than anger,” Sister Katherine said patiently.

I pushed away from the table and stood. Aunt Kyra reached out and touched my hand.

“Sit back down, Dayton,” she ordered.

“Why?” I asked. “So each of you can take your turn condemning me?”

“We aren’t condemning. Only advising,” Sister Mary assured.

I turned toward her slowly. My gaze seemed to startle her, and she looked away.

“I don’t need your sanctimonious bullshit advice,” I roared. “It was a fucking paper. And I refused to re-do what was good work! End of story!” 

Aunt Kyra shoved away from the table, her face calm. Her eyes, however, flashed with fury.

“Your mouth will remain clean at our table, Day,” Kyra ordered.

I looked her in the eyes.

“What do you want from me?”

“Subservience,” she answered. My eyes widened. Was she serious?

“Fuck that!” I answered as I moved away from the table. The Sisters stood as one.

“What do you expect to do when you leave here, Day?” Aunt Kyra asked as I moved along the wall. I paused.

“I have dreams, Aunt Kyra. I’m not without talent. I am a good writer,” I said confidently.

“I hope your written word is better managed than your mouth,” she said. I turned on her.

“You wouldn’t know, Aunt Kyra. You’ve never tried to know. What do you really expect from me? I’m not a bad person."

Aunt Kyra moved toward me.

“When you are not at the Abbey, you represent this institution. What you consider mild behavior is considered repulsive to us, Day. We expect more from you."

 I stared at her a moment, the silence stretching between us. The whole room seemed to hold its breath.  Never before had Aunt Kyra brought me before the Sisters this way. Something was wrong.

“I am not making the Abbey my home, Aunt Kyra. I want more than that. You expect what I can't give."

 She moved closer still.

“Sometimes you can’t deny a calling,” she replied.

 I glanced at Amber. She was still seated, her head bowed primly. I turned back to Aunt Ky. It seemed Amber was resigned to this "calling." I wasn’t.

“
I
can,” I answered simply.

Aunt Kyra nodded her head, her face taking on a determined expression. She seemed to be making a decision. She glanced at the Sisters and they all nodded.

“That’s that then. We can proceed. Dayton, you are dismissed,” Aunt Kyra said.

I was frozen with shock. What? I risked another glance at Amber and saw that her head was still bowed, tears glistening on her cheeks. What had just happened?