A New Blue Sky – Chapter 2
The woman in front of her was trembling.
Julienne knew her so well, Shelagh was trying hard not to shake, not to cry, to look normal.
She reached across the desk but Shelagh looked down at something she had on her lap.
Whatever it was bothering her, it was something serious, very serious.
Before her eyes she had the person she loved the most wrapped in a black cloud about to swallow her up, and happy days seemed to be a distant memory.
Gone were the mornings and afternoons that she sometimes shared with the newlywed Shelagh, where the girl looked like a ray of sunlight illuminating everything with a happiness that she opened like a gift every day.
It was suddenly cut off, as if the flower that gave life to Shelagh had been plucked from a garden and slowly wilted in a vase until it became this: a weak and fragile stem, shivering in the nonexistent cold of summer.
She asked God for patience and understanding, because she was sure that the culprit was that man.
She did not even have the heart to say his name. It was impossible that Shelagh's happiness had lasted so little, it was impossible that it was her fault.
Her little girl was incapable of any mistakes and Julienne knew that was not true but at that moment, seeing her like this, her maternal love and fear only told her that Shelagh was innocent of everything and that therefore, he was the culprit.
She would kill him.
She did not care that she was a nun, that she was a respected woman. She would kill him.
Julienne took a deep breath and now felt her own body trembling but with rage.
As soon as Shelagh mentioned Dr. Turner she would already be looking for him to exact revenge.
"I..." Shelagh started to speak, then stopped. And she looked at her lap, shook her head.
"Child, tell me what's wrong, please."
Shelagh lifted her watery eyes and Julienne felt her heart break. There was extreme pain there, and something she had never seen in Shelagh: hopelessness.
"What do you have there?" She tried to ask delicately.
"It's… something for the charity box. I did it but I will never use it so…"
Julienne tried to understand but she did not know what it could be in that package that caused so much pain.
"I made it for a baby but there won't be any so this doesn't need to be in my house."
Shelagh said that quickly, in a whisper, and with a shaking hand put the package on the desk.
"Thank you sister, I know you have a lot to do so I'm leaving. Good afternoon."
She stood up and smoothed her skirt with her fingers, all without raising her eyes and looking at her interlocutor.
"Shelagh wait," Julienne stood up as well and could see that the young woman let out a sigh of frustration seeing that she could not escape so easily.
She approached the young woman, took her by the shoulders.
"Shelagh what's going on? Tell me, you can trust me."
Shelagh lowered her eyes, shook her head. There were no tears falling, and Julienne suspected that, seeing how Shelagh's face was, the tears had already cried so many times that they no longer existed.
"It's impossible for me to have children," she murmured looking at the ground, her voice flat, without emotion.
"Why do you say that? Doesn't your husband want to?"
"No, no, it's nothing like that." Her eyes had a sudden gleam to defend her husband. "He wants as much as I do, but..."
She rested a hand on her belly and frowned, shaking her head.
"I'm completely useless..." Shelagh sighed, and raised her head to Julienne. She had a sad smile, almost a grimace.
"I'm useless."
A lump tightened in Julienne's throat.
She never heard Shelagh say such things, she never saw her so defeated. Suddenly, Julienne felt that all the wisdom and experience that she collected over the years had vanished. She did not know what to say or what to do to remedy the devastation that her eyes saw.
"Shelagh, dear" she tried to say but only a broken whisper came out.
She saw her shrug, resigned.
"It's impossible," she said, taking a step away, but staring at the bundle on the desk.
"Darling, come here," Julienne spread her arms and Shelagh just let herself be hugged without moving a muscle and without her eyes leaving the desk.
"He hates me."
Julienne pulled away from her, but she kept her hands squeezing Shelagh's shoulders.
Now she would kill Patrick Turner.
If he was blaming Shelagh and turning her into this, then Julienne would ruin his life. No one could hurt her daughter and get away with it.
"It's because I left the Order. He punished me."
Her voice was barely audible but it pierced Julienne's ears. However, she breathed a sigh of relief. For now, Dr Turner was safe.
"Shelagh come, sit down."
She led her gently to the chair, though she sensed a bit of resistance. She sat down next to her and took her hands.
"Listen to me, darling. God doesn't hate you. How could He hate someone and much more to you?
"But… If He does, it would make sense for this to happen to me. Because I can't find any other explanation," her ragged breathing also reminded Julienne that Shelagh was still in recovery.
Julienne suddenly understood. Tuberculosis. There was the cause of everything.
She squeezed the young woman's icy hands, racking her brains to find the exact words Shelagh needed.
"Shelagh you did nothing wrong, on the contrary, you have made a man and his son happy and you are happy too, and we are all happy for you here. I believe, and this shouldn't be known to anyone, I believe that you made the best decision of your life."
Shelagh barely lifted a corner of her mouth, an attempt at a smile.
"I believe that too," she asserted, with a very small glimmer of enthusiasm. "But…"
She took a deep breath and with hesitant words she spoke of suspicion, a surgery Julienne was not aware of at all, and a devastating diagnosis.
"It's my fault," she finished, swallowing a lump in her throat.
"Don't say that, you..."
"I'm guilty," she interrupted, suddenly there were no whispers but a clear, angry voice. "I'm useless. I can't even do what a woman is supposed to do, and I just fail over and over again, I'm useless, I'm useless... "
A sob cut off her words, and a desperate cry, as if a dam had burst within her soul.
Julienne was there to catch her, to hold her without saying anything, and she prayed, with more faith than ever in her life, for a miracle.
The woman in front of her was trembling.
Julienne was also trembling and that was paradoxical, inexplicably there were a lot of nerves between them.
Leaving her job for even a few days was difficult. Resting was difficult. It was as if the older she got, the harder it was to rest.
So she had passed out, something terribly embarrassing for her and terribly dramatic for the other women in the house.
And Dr. Turner told her that she should rest, and of course she hated him for such a daring suggestion.
What did he know of the countless responsibilities she carried on her shoulders?
But the man surprised her, once again.
Suddenly Shelagh was there in front of her, looking completely professional except for her nerves.
She seemed ready for battle, and Julienne looked at her pityingly. Hard work had been the distraction for Sister Bernadette and it was also for Shelagh. Her little daughter (Julienne had to accept that Shelagh was a woman, she struggled in her thoughts to accept that, but it was too hard for her to do so) seemed a little more confident in herself, but her gaze remained sad, and Julienne feared joy never shine again in Shelagh's blue eyes.
She was so tempted to tell her little secret. To ensure that it was not necessary to conceive and give birth to love in an extreme way, to be a mother.
"You have Tim, like I had you. He makes you a mother, like you made me."
"Sister, aren't you feeling well?" the question brought her out of her ramble and Julienne smiled.
"Yes, just a little dizzy," she lied. "Do you remember what I said?"
She could not find better hands than Shelagh to do this. She was to be her successor, she was carefully prepared for that, and although she chose another path, Shelagh was always there.
Shelagh nodded for the number three time to the same question, only shaking her head like an obedient girl but also a little fed up and Julienne had to laugh a little.
"I think I'm overwhelming you so I'll stop giving you recommendations. Believe me, it's not mistrust, it's just that I feel that if I can't have control, everything will go downhill."
"The same thing happens to me lately," Shelagh replied, fiddling with a pen to avoid looking at her, "but none of that will happen here, I give you my word."
Julienne was tempted to ask how everything was, how her life was, but Shelagh was already on her feet, eager to take her new position. Julienne could not cut off that wave of enthusiasm, that need to be useful, with such a personal question.
So she smiled, stood up, and stepped away.
And the change was the most optimal. When she returned, recovered and bored, Shelagh had blossomed.
The rough edges with Sister Evangelina have been smoothed out, there was a new nurse, and Timothy Turner, the boy Julienne was loving a little more every day, called Shelagh "mom," lighting up her face like the sun.
Everything would get better, slowly.
She just prayed to God to give her enough life to see Shelagh happy, completely happy.