As my afternoon progressed, my anxiety grew. Though I listened to Father Gabriel’s recordings, I couldn’t concentrate. The words prideful and vulgar kept repeating in my mind.
How is it that it was my friend who upset me—not Sister Lilith, not Jacob, but my friend?
Maybe it was because I cared what Elizabeth thought. I cared about her friendship.
Will she decide she doesn’t want to be friends any longer if I can’t remember the past, if I’m too different? What will happen if I do as she suggests and confess to Jacob? Don’t we have enough happening, with going to service?
Remembering the running, I tried to pace the confines of my room. Though the cast made my left leg longer than my right, causing an uneven gait that aggravated my rib, I continued to move. Freedom was more important than the pain. After so long in my bed, I relished the ability to stand, walk, and sit of my own accord. Yet with each minute I waited for Jacob, my apprehension of the unknown grew. I knew this room and was familiar with it. I’d counted the steps from my bed to the wall, my bed to the bathroom, and my bed to . . . anywhere within these four walls. I knew what was expected of me here.
What will happen out there, at service? What will happen when Jacob returns?
I rolled my head and shoulders, trying to relieve the tight muscles. My mind wanted to run, yet my body could hardly handle the pacing. Obviously my strength wasn’t up to par. After a few laps, I’d sit, rest, and then try it again. During my walks I stopped at the closet multiple times to see my clothes. Of course I couldn’t see. I could touch and feel. Elizabeth could be right, I might have jeans at home, but I didn’t here. Mostly everything I touched was soft and long—nightgowns, I assumed. I found the skirt and sweater she’d mentioned. Now I wondered about a bra. I hadn’t worn one since I’d awakened. It was one more thing to add to my stress.
If saying shit is vulgar, what will happen if I go to service without a bra?
Perhaps it was from my exercise, or maybe an escape mechanism, but as the hours passed, tiredness overcame me, and I decided to nap. That was where I was, in a dream world, when Jacob finally returned. Though his entering woke me, I didn’t move. Remembering my transgressions, I lay still listening to his footsteps.
Is he upset or am I nervous and paranoid?
Panic pricked at my skin as I tried to decipher his mood. Each slap of his shoes against the tile echoed throughout the room, reverberating off the walls and accelerating my already too-rapid pulse. Slowly I turned, summoning what little bit of courage existed within me, and said, “Jacob?”
His steps lightened as he came closer and brushed my forehead with his lips. I didn’t understand why we hadn’t shared another kiss like the one over a week before. Maybe he knew I still needed to heal and didn’t want one thing to lead to another. Right now I didn’t know what I wanted. It was probably absolution.
“How was your afternoon?” he asked.
Shit! What does that mean? Do I have to tell him everything, or does he already know?
I wanted to ask, but I knew better. All I could do was answer. Moving my legs to the side of the bed, I sat, smoothed my hair, and replied, “Eventful.”
“Really? Do tell.”
The slight humor to his tone gave me strength. “Elizabeth came to see me.”
“She did? That was nice. Did you have a nice chat?”
“Jacob, while Elizabeth was here . . .” My words trailed away.
“Did something happen?”
My face paled, my stomach twisted, and a sheen of perspiration coated my skin. Fighting the nausea, I went on. “Yes, actually. Do you remember . . .” No, stupid, that’s a question. I rephrased. “I remembered that you said I could speak to anyone who came to my room.”
“Yes. Of course you may speak to Elizabeth.”
“Jacob, Father Gabriel came here this afternoon.”
“Go on.”
Shit! Shit! He’s too calm.
“Sara, tell me about Father Gabriel’s visit.”
“Well, at first I was shocked. I knew his voice the moment he spoke. I’ve been listening to his recordings.” The sentences ran together. “He was very nice and said that he wants me at service tonight, that he missed seeing me sitting with the Assembly wives, and that he was glad I was feeling better. Oh! And he told Elizabeth that she could assist me tonight, because I guess you have to sit with the Assembly.” I took a breath.
“Then I guess we’d better both get ready for service tonight.”
I nodded, swallowing the bile that had made its way from my stomach.
“Is that all?” he asked.
“All . . . that he said? Yes, I think.”
He sat beside me and reached for my hand. “Perhaps you should think harder.”
Tears trickled from my bandaged eyes. “I’ve told you before that I’m not good at this.”
“You are. You were. You just need to be reminded.” He cleared his throat. “I won’t ask again.”