A/N: Sorry about the long hiatus. Grad school can kill all your free time. But winter break is coming up so hopefully updates will be more frequent. Anyway, on to the show...
Chapter 2
Jessica sipped her Baileys-sweetened black coffee as she eyed the brick building suspiciously. She was sitting in the diner kitty-corner from the convent where Matt (ostensibly) was.
Granted, she didn't grow up Catholic or really knew anyone who was; her parents had been Baptists, even though they had stopped attending services by the time she was 10. She didn't really know what to expect, yet the pattern of activity around the convent still seemed strange.
She had only seen one nun coming or going from the building in the past week. A younger looking nun who dressed in librarian garb rather than the traditional black and white habit. She seemed nervous, but it was hard to tell if that was naturally a part of her demeanor or if she was nervous for a particular reason.
Then there were the frequent deliveries of packages of all shapes and sizes to the convent. Some delivered by name-brand carriers; most by way of some sort of courier service with delivery guys in street clothes. Not at all suspicious.
Plumes of smoke regularly rose from chimney pipes in the roof. Sometimes they were a dark gray color, and other times white as snow. She was guessing they weren't picking the next Pope in there.
Jessica's internet sleuthing revealed that the Sisters of Our Lady of Sorrow had occupied the building for the past forty plus years. They had a website-some crude Geocities holdout from about twenty years ago-that talked about some of their philanthropy work (specifically helping the poor and homeless, which she surmised they thought included Matt), their general mission, how to donate, a form to submit prayer requests. That sort of thing. There was a bio for their Mother Superior but no info on the other nuns who called the convent home. Definitely nothing on Sister Maggie. She wasn't even in any of the few group photos featured on the site, as far as Jessica could tell.
Jessica had tried twice since she last saw Matt to pay him another visit, but both times she was turned away by ol' Maggie herself. "Matthew is too ill to receive visitors." She was either their assigned doorwoman and bouncer, or it was a weird coincidence.
Hopefully, though, third time would be the charm...
There was something about her. A familiar way of talking peppered with recognized sayings and words. A scent faintly similar to something from before. A gentle touch...
"Alright Mattie, do you think you can swing those legs over and try to walk?"
He felt so weak. He wasn't sure and said so. From the shift in the air and the faint outline he could tell she was shaking her head. "You can, my son. He will give you strength."
Matt took a deep breath. He started with trying to sit up in bed. Attempts to sit up before were often met with a stinging pain in his head and a dull one in his chest, as well as a crushing dizziness. But the Sister had always been there, supplying a helping hand or encouraging words.
The same nun always seemed to be attentive to him. He frequently heard her voice near him.
What was her interest in him? Why was she so familiar? The only nuns Matt could remember from his past were the older nuns who attended Mass and served the community from the church at which he and his father were parishioners. This woman didn't seem that old...if any of those women were even still alive.
Matt huffed another breath and strained his muscles to try again. The Sister reached out to steady him, "It's alright. Your Blessed Father will give you strength."
He strained as much as he good, but it wasn't enough. He slammed back into the meager mattress. It was so strange. It was as if some invisible, strong hands were forcing him down, pushing him against the mattress. God, he was tired.
What was that? Matt felt something on the Sister's wrist as her arms were outstretched, steadying him. His hand circled her wrist, feeling the bracelet there. It felt like yarn or string, several strands braided together. There was a funny bulge on one side-an intricate knot with twisting loops...
Matt's hand stilled. He was suddenly not on a bed in a nunnery, but back in the small kitchen of the Hell's Kitchen apartment, sitting at the round chestnut table, his fingers fumbling with different colored strings. His father thought the different colors would help to keep things straight as Matt practiced.
He was so proud when he figured out the double sheet bend knot. His scout leader would be pleased. He held it aloft when his father came in the room.
"Look dad!" His father had beamed down at him and ruffled his hair.
"Hey Mags, he finally got it," his father called behind him. Margaret Murdock stepped out from behind the kitchen counter, kitchen towel in hand. "Well my gosh look at that! I'm proud of you Mattie!"
Mattie…. The voices and images faded away, and he was back in the present. He focused his still weakened senses. It had to be. It had to be her.
"Mom?"
The Sister started to fluff his pillow and fiddle with this sheets. "No dear, I am not the Mother Superior, that's Mother Agatha. She is not here today."
"No, that's not what I meant. Are you…are you my mom?"
There was a beat. Just a moment, in which the sister's heart beat jumped. "No M—my son. I am afraid not. Just a kind old woman here to help."
Matt said nothing. He didn't know what to say. He was too dumbfounded to go beyond that initial but so fundamental question.
"You don't look well, my son. Let me get you some medicine." The nun moved away.
