Bad Habits: A Dark Anthology - Yolanda Olson Page 0,30
minutes, to change and freshen up for dinner. Once alone, I sat on the bed and took off my shoes.
“Look at you, child,” Solomon said softly.
I rubbed the arch of my foot, looking around the small space and smiled. “Indeed. It’s wonderful! And I have two whole weeks to enjoy it.” I stood up and stretched, wiggling my stockinged toes into the carpet. I was tired but way too excited to give into exhaustion now.
I put my things away and placed my empty suitcase under the bed, then laid out a fresh habit and my veil. I’d have to find a bathroom, which I was sure had to be nearby. Back at Our Lady of Heavenly Hope, we novitiates had a community bathroom, one to each hall. I doubt they had that here.
Turned out the bathroom was the room across from me. I washed my face and brushed my hair, pinning it up when I was done. Then went back to my room to change and don my veil. As soon as I was finished, Sister Hazel was knocking at my door.
“The dining hall is on the opposite side of the building,” she told me as we walked. “We eat at seven for breakfast, and noon for lunch. Dinner for the homeless at six to seven, then we eat.” She paused, then in a hushed voice that was so soft it made me look at her she said, “Sometimes Father Kent joins us, but he’s been gone since Friday and probably won’t return for another week.” She kept her eyes ahead, her posture stiff.
I frowned. What she said wasn’t too unusual, considering that this parish was so small. It wasn’t a teaching Order, nor a school, and they were just now settling in. So why was she acting all… embarrassed? Or was it relief I heard? Was this Father some kind of creep, then? Or mean? God, or worse, abusive?
Well, I’ll surely find out when I meet him, I thought, not caring all that much, honestly. My focus was food, then sleep.
The dining hall—room, really—was busy. About seven nuns sat at a long table against the back wall, while two handed out their meals. On the side wall, near a door that must lead outside, was a cafeteria-style set-up where Beady-eyes was passing out bowls of steaming food to three men. The homeless, I assumed.
Sister Hazel directed me to a seat at the end of the long table, my back to the entrance. The Sisters, now busy with their meal, eyed me briefly but didn’t speak. A bowl of stew was placed before me in seconds, and I bowed my head, whispering a blessing of thanks for my meal before I dug in.
The stew was shit, but I ate it up. The room was quiet now, the homeless eating outside or back to their homeless dwellings. I was almost disappointed that they didn’t sit at the long table with us. Probably a wise idea, what with a bunch of women who had sworn off cocks for the rest of their lives.
But temptation and taboo always burned brighter when alone together, I mused as I waited to be dismissed.
I heard the metallic sound of the exit door shut, and my veil lifted briefly from the air that escaped.
“You must be Constance,” Solomon said close by. His tone sounded funny.
Huh?
I felt a large hand upon my shoulder. Turning my head in the voice’s direction, I looked into the most mesmerizing eyes I’d ever seen. Amber in sunset.
The man was tall, blond, and his tanned skin contrasted beautifully with the pristine white collar that marked him as a priest.
“What—” Stunned, I tried to stand, knocking over the empty bowl of my stew in the process.
The man chuckled, and with Solomon’s voice said, “I didn’t mean to frighten you, Sister. I’m sure you are very tired from your trip. I just wanted to introduce myself. I’m Father Kent.” He held out his hand after backing up a bit, giving me much needed space.
Standing, I shook his hand, totally confused at this turn in events. What was he doing with Solomon’s voice? And it was his voice, one I’d heard since I was old enough to know my ABCs.
He released my hand and smiled, thankfully ignoring my rude staring. Perfect teeth, perfect lips. “I would like to thank you for volunteering your help. We are very glad to have you.” Something sparked in his honeyed eyes and I blinked.