She never took him into her confidence about her writing, and knew she couldn’t. And he sensed that there were parts of her she would never expose, allow him into, or give away. Alex was a woman with a secret, and he could never figure out the code. And she was adamant about needing time to herself, when she wanted to write. But she never explained her absences to him, or the distance she created between them when the book was on her mind. He still wondered at times if it was another man, but he found that hard to believe. Their sex life was astounding, and yet at times, she totally shut down and wouldn’t let him near her. She allowed nothing to interfere with the book he didn’t know about. As always, her writing came first. And she felt guilty for keeping part of herself separate.
She was debating about whether to go home to Boston for the holidays, when Fiona invited her to come to Ireland with her to spend them with her family. And Alex loved the idea. Ivan said he hated Christmas, and went somewhere on his own every year where he didn’t have to hear stories about Father Christmas and see people carrying presents or dragging their Christmas trees home. He said he was going to Morocco and invited Alex to come with him, but she either wanted to go home to the nuns, go home with Fiona, or stay in London, and enjoy a British Christmas. She wasn’t going to go to Marrakesh with him, ignoring the holiday entirely. She put up a tree before he left. In the end, Fiona’s invitation had the most appeal. Fiona was going to Ireland for a week and coming back to London on New Year’s Eve, to spend it with friends. Ivan was planning to spend two weeks in Marrakesh, so she’d be alone for New Year’s. She was annoyed at him for leaving, and said that their relationship shouldn’t just be about sex. She wanted to spend the holidays with him, but he was nonnegotiable about it.
“I don’t do holidays. They were rotten when I was a kid. And I don’t like sharing them with anyone now,” he said coldly. There were a lot of things about the relationship she didn’t like, the way he treated her when he was moody, the things he said to demean her, the fact that sex was all-important to him and he never told her he loved her, and then at other times he was tender with her and seemed to care about her, and the sex was extraordinary, and for him that replaced love. She wondered sometimes if he hated women, or if he was just a very unhappy person and hated himself. He was hard to read at times, and he was in such a foul mood as the holidays began that it was a relief when he left.
Alex had had a letter from Brigid, the ex–Sister Regina. She loved her teaching job in Boston, and was dating the math teacher at the school. She was going to meet his family over Christmas. She said that he was thirty-eight years old, had never been married either, and wanted children. And Brigid sounded very excited about him. Alex was happy for her. Rose Porter had sent her a white cashmere scarf with mittens to match to keep warm. She missed all of them at times, but for now her life was here, and she wanted to see it through.
She called Mother Mary Margaret to say she wasn’t coming for Christmas, but she would be going to Ireland with her friend.
“As long as you’re with a family over Christmas,” the superior said generously, “then I won’t worry about you. We’ll catch up when you get back.” But Alex didn’t know when that would be. She didn’t want to leave Ivan, or her job. She had no idea how long the relationship would last with Ivan, his feelings for her seemed to wax and wane day by day. He was impossible to predict.
“Do you love him?” Fiona asked her when they boarded the train to Heathrow to fly to Ireland.
“I don’t know,” Alex said honestly. “I’m not sure.”
“Sex confuses everything, doesn’t it?” Fiona said wistfully. There had been a boy she had loved in Ireland and wanted to marry, and then she had gone to London, gotten involved with someone else, and everything went wrong. Fiona seemed much more worldly and experienced after living in London for four years. Alex’s home had been the convent and a college dorm until six months before, although now everything had changed. And Fiona was right, Alex decided, sex made everything so confusing. She no longer knew what she felt or where she belonged. At times she just wanted to go back to Boston, but she wasn’t ready to give up on Ivan yet. Maybe his rough edges and bitterness would smooth down in time. He expected the world to give him what he wanted, like a successful novel, but he wasn’t willing to strive and sacrifice for it. Alex didn’t hear from him once he left for Marrakesh. He’d been there before, and he said it was cheap, sunny, and fun, which was all he wanted for two weeks.
But the week that Alex spent with Fiona’s family was warm and wonderful. She had a hundred-and-two-year-old great-grandmother who lived with them. And Fiona’s family were very kind to her while she was there. They made her feel welcome, and Alex called the nuns before they left for midnight mass on Christmas Eve, which was only seven in the evening in Boston. They were about to have Christmas Eve dinner. And she talked to everyone. They said they missed her terribly, but thought working in London was a wonderful experience for her. She was sad when she hung up. Fiona could see that she was homesick. Alex prayed for the nuns that night in church.
The next morning she and Fiona went to the kitchen and made breakfast together, and an hour later, the whole family was crammed into the kitchen, even Fiona’s great-grandmother in her wheelchair. Fiona had four younger brothers and two sisters, and Alex was glad she’d come, and grateful that they’d included her. She and Fiona were sad to leave on the morning of New Year’s Eve, but Fiona had plans in London that night with a hot date. The interlude in Dublin with Fiona’s family had done Alex good. It was nice being with a normal family. And she and Fiona had slept in the same room with her sisters on bunk beds. It made Alex feel like a kid again. But she was hungry to work on her book when she got home to her apartment in London.
And as soon as she got back, Alex got to work in earnest. She was even beginning to think that she should give up her internship and work on the book full-time. It was difficult doing both. But she wasn’t quite ready to quit the job yet. And she knew that Ivan would be upset if she did. In some ways, it was nice working in the same place as he was.
She hadn’t told the nuns about him, but Mother MaryMeg suspected that she had a beau, and didn’t want to ask. And Alex was old enough now to choose the right man, or so she hoped.