A familiar sighescaped Father Devon’s flared nostrils within seconds of seeing me escorted into his office by Sister Harriet. With my hands folded neatly on my lap, I perched on the seat in front of his desk. The Sister’s large form was behind me like a penguin hovering, and I couldn’t help the glee that made the corners of my lips curl.
“Ah, I see you find this amusing, Sister Constance.” Father Devon leaned back in his leather chair, tossing his pen onto his ledger in front of him. His eyes were glacier blue. He was attractive, with dark hair lightly dusted in more salt than pepper, thick and combed back, framing high cheekbones, a sharp blade of a nose, and a full mouth.
The parish adored him. The Sisters went gooey in his presence. Babies cooed at him. But I knew that it was only a matter of time before he left our convent doors. I could sense these things from miles away. He wasn’t what they thought.
“No, Father—” I began but felt claw-like fingers digging into my nape.
“Forgive the intrusion, Father Devon, but Mother Mary Margret said to bring the insolent girl to you at once.”
Father Devon’s eyes never left mine. “And what has she done this time?”
What have Inotdone today? I wanted to ask.
“We caught her at the gates talking to the…”
“Prostitutes,” I supplied when she hesitated.
“Quiet!” Harriet hissed. “She has been told a number of times to stay inside the gates, Father, and she refuses to obey. I’m almost prone to wash my hands of her!”
Father Devon’s mouth quirked for one-half of a second, but it was enough for me to know he could tell the penguin behind me was at her wit’s end. I almost felt sorry for her.
“I see.” He rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly looking weary. It was growing on lunchtime, and he was probably ready to split. As counselor of our school, his office was always busy. “Have her put on breakfast duty for—”
“Already did that last week… uh, Father,” Harriet said in a rush, forgetting herself.
He gave her a condemning look but didn’t admonish her for interrupting. “And what came of that? Did she complete her duties?”
“She put espresso into Sister Bethany’s oatmeal. It took hours to settle the poor soul down.”
I almost laughed out loud. The old bat was a blast that day!
His eyes widened. “She…never mind, I don’t want to know.” The Father’s gaze landed back on me again, eyebrow raised. “Sister Constance, are you bored with our parish? You have, what, a few more months until your vows from novitiate to nun. Can you not do as the good Sisters say? You are an adult now, and your childish games need to cease. I understand you’ve been here since you were an infant, but you are a woman now, and the order you take this time next year will not put up with this behavior. Do you understand?”
“I do. I apologize, Father,” I said as contritely as I could.
He gave me a level look. “You’re a smart young woman, Sister, and I know you have it in you to do good. I’ve witnessed it myself.”
Yes, he had. Several times. However, he wasn’t talking aboutthosetimes.
With another sigh, he opened a drawer and took out a legal pad. “Sister Harriet, leave her to me. Come get her in an hour. I shall put her to work.”
Harriet’s vise on my nape loosened until, finally, she left the room, closing the door behind her. I lowered my head, my eyes open, and waited.
I heard the scribbling of pen to paper. Curious, I looked up. Father Devon’s dark head was down, focused on his work. Was he going to ignore me? Or was he planning on making me write out five-hundred words on why I was such a “difficult child,” like Mother Superior made me do all the time in school?
While he wrote, he asked, “What did you and these prostitutes talk about, Constance?”
“Cocks.” I crossed my arms, growing bored.
“What about them?” Scrape, scrape, went his pen.
I shrugged. “Oh, you know, the different variations. Sizes, colors, that type of thing. Can I go now? I really need to use the bathroom, Father.”
Scrape, scrape.
What was he writing?
“No, you may not.” He flipped the paper over and started a new page, still not looking at me. “What else?”