They went to the Rib Room for dinner to celebrate on the last night. The editing had gone well, the changes had been made. She had scanned and emailed the manuscript to Rose Porter to hand in to the publisher. Alex was as regular as clockwork, and her most recent published work was currently climbing bestseller lists at a rapid rate. She had become a regular feature on it by then, but was never blasé about it. It thrilled her every time when she got emails from Amanda congratulating her and telling her that one of her books was on the list week after week. This was another big bestseller. She was hitting one out of the park every time, and the Alexander Green books had developed a cult following among the elite cognoscenti of crime thrillers.
Her publishers were still astounded that they were written by a young woman, and her identity was the best-kept secret in the business. The publicity department occasionally planted an item about the author, that he was hunting in Scotland, or researching a new book somewhere, or had just returned to his ranch in Montana to start work on a new thriller. It had taken on a life of its own, and at times Alex almost believed he was real, like some form of alter ego. She always thought it was funny when they sent her a clipping about the elusive Alexander Green, or an alleged sighting of him somewhere unlikely, like Berlin.
After Bert left, at the end of a very satisfying visit, Alex had to look for a new apartment, since the second lease on hers was expiring in June, and the owner was returning from a lengthy stay in Australia and wanted it back.
This time it took her two weeks to find one, in Kensington. It was slightly smaller than the one she’d had, another furnished rental, which suited her, and she hoped to stay in London until later in the year, and then go back to Boston. She wasn’t ready to yet. An eighteen-month stay abroad still seemed reasonable. She hadn’t become an expatriate, it felt more like an extended student year abroad. She liked having her own place to live, although she missed the nuns and the warmth of being among them. She was happy too to move to an apartment where she hadn’t been with Ivan. She wanted to put the memories of him behind her. She had heard nothing from him for two months, and didn’t expect to ever hear from him again, and hoped she wouldn’t.
The new apartment was bright and sunny, when there was sun in London. It belonged to a young woman, and Alex felt at home there, in the well-decorated one-bedroom flat, which had a feminine touch. It made her wonder if she should get her own place when she went back to the States, although she hated to move out of St. Dominic’s, which was home to her now.
And Bill Buchanan had presented her with a big decision a few weeks before. She still owned the home that she had lived in with her father, which had been left to her as part of his estate. It wasn’t fancy, or overly large, but it represented a solid investment for her, along with his savings and the insurance policy, much of which she’d used to pay for her education. Their old house had been rented for nine years, since her father’s death, and their belongings were still in storage for a small monthly fee, which Bill paid automatically for her. There had been two tenants in the house for the last nine years. The most recent one had been there for five, and wanted to make an offer on the house if she was willing to sell it, and she didn’t know if she was. She hated to give it up, out of sentiment, and the rent was a steady income for her, which was nice to have, but she couldn’t see herself living there again, even years from now when she was married and had children. It would make her too sad. But giving it up forever was painful too, and severing a tie with her father and her past. She had told Bill she would think about it and hadn’t made a decision yet. He contacted her again in July, and said that her tenants wanted to know, because if she didn’t want to sell, they had an opportunity to buy another house, so she had to make up her mind.
The decision was harder than she thought it would be, and after many sleepless nights, remembering her time there with her father, she decided to sell it, and called Bill to tell him. He said he thought it was the right decision, and would contact the tenants and get back to her with their offer, which he did a week later. It was a decent offer that took into account the new roof it needed, and some updates and repairs, and they wanted to put in air conditioning, which she and her father didn’t have. She accepted the offer without negotiating, and they were delighted. She agreed to a thirty-day closing, and in September, the house would no longer be hers. The thought of it was bittersweet, but it seemed right.
The day after she accepted the offer, she got a letter from Brigid with startling news. She was getting married at the end of August to the math teacher she had been dating for six months. His name was Patrick Dylan, and Brigid said she had never been happier in her life. Alex was thrilled for her, and Brigid said that Mother MaryMeg and the sisters were coming to the wedding. The archdiocese had released her from her vows.
She invited Alex to the wedding, which was going to be very small and intimate, at their parish church, with the reception afterward at the home of Patrick’s parents in a suburb of Boston, and his sisters were cooking the wedding lunch. But she said she understood if Alex couldn’t be there. It was short notice and a long way to come for a wedding, from London, and Alex had no plans to go home for now. She thought about it all day. She didn’t want to go back to Boston yet, but there was no way she could miss Brigid’s wedding. It was four weeks away, and she could go home for a week and catch up with everyone there, and then come back to Europe for a while.
Alex sent Brigid an email to tell her she was coming, and then called Mother MaryMeg. She had been sure Alex would come home for the wedding since Brigid was her closest friend. Alex told her she would be in Boston for a week and all the nuns were thrilled when they heard. They were all going to Brigid’s wedding.
—
Alex flew into Boston five days before the wedding so she’d have time to visit with everyone. The nuns were almost as excited to see her as they were about the wedding, and they had a big celebratory dinner for Alex the night she came home. She was ecstatic to see them and it made her realize how much she’d missed them and how long she’d been gone. But she liked her life in London too, and she wasn’t ready to move back. She had her apartment in Kensington till December if she wanted it, and Sister Xavier and Sister Tommy were disappointed to hear that she was going back so soon.