She had dinner with Fiona on her last night. Her bags were packed, her briefcase was crammed full, and she had a tote bag with proofs to read on the plane. And she was carrying her latest manuscript too. The apartment was neat, and she was sadder than ever to be leaving London.
She had a nice dinner with Fiona and Clive at the Shed at Notting Hill Gate, and the two young women cried when they left each other, promising to write and stay in touch. Fiona told her to go back to Boston and find a boyfriend before she turned into an old maid, which made Alex laugh through her tears. She didn’t say anything to her about the possible movie deal because she couldn’t. She could tell Brigid about it when she saw her, and the nuns, and Bert of course, but no one else. Her real life was totally unknown to Fiona, who thought that she lived on the modest inheritance her father had left her, didn’t have to work, and was a very lucky girl. That night at dinner, Clive hinted that they might be getting married, and Alex would have to come back for the wedding. He thought Alex was a great girl, even if she was a little quiet, and shy, but pretty and bright and a nice person. Fiona had told him what she knew of her story, and he said that probably living with nuns in a convent for seven years had made her act like one, and all she needed was for the right man to come along. Fiona thought so too.
—
Alex checked her bags at Heathrow the next day, carried her overstuffed hand luggage, and boarded the plane to Boston, feeling like she was leaving home again, but excited to see the nuns too. The two years in Europe after college had been the beginning of her adult life, although she hadn’t changed physically. She still looked years younger than she was and could have passed for a teenager in ballet flats and jeans at twenty-four.
She didn’t expect it, but Sister Xavier and Sister Tommy were at the airport to meet her, as a surprise when she came through customs. They held her tight when they hugged her and both nuns cried and so did Alex. She’d seen them at Brigid’s wedding ten months earlier, but that was a long time too.
“Thank God you’re home now!” Sister Xavier said with fervor, as they headed for the garage to get the car. Both nuns had ascertained immediately that she looked happy and well, and she seemed to have more self-assurance after living on her own for two years. She had grown up. They thought she was even more beautiful than ever. “We got our girl back,” she said to Sister Thomas with a sigh of relief as she started the car.
She told them all about her recent trip around Europe on the drive from the airport.
“I’ve always wanted to go to Madrid,” Sister Xavier said dreamily, as they drove along the freeway.
“I went to a bullfight with my husband once,” Sister Tommy said. “It was awful. He loved it. The poor bull. I almost threw up.” All three of them laughed, and they were at St. Dominic’s an hour later, and all of the nuns were waiting for her. It was a true homecoming. She hugged Mother MaryMeg first and lingered in her arms for a long moment.
“We were going to come over to kidnap you if you didn’t come back this time,” the superior teased her. “Welcome home, Alex.”
“Thank you, Mother,” she said, feeling at peace, and then went upstairs to her room, which had been kept intact for her. It was hers, and had been waiting, with her little blue lamb lamp from her childhood on the desk.
“How’s Brigid…Regina?” she asked Sister Xavier before she left her.
“Ready to pop.” She laughed. “She dropped by to see us a month ago. The poor thing can hardly walk, but she looks great and so happy.” They didn’t know what sex the baby was and were waiting to see at the birth, but were hoping for a boy. “She promised to call the minute it’s born.” Alex already knew that her husband and one of his sisters were going to be at the delivery, which all sounded scary to Alex. It was a subject she knew nothing about, and didn’t want to. Until she had to, one day, if she ever did. Sometimes she thought she’d stay single forever, and just be a writer and nothing else, neither a mother nor a wife. She wouldn’t have minded. And she thought Brigid was very brave.
She settled into her room that night, unpacked her bags, and put her papers on her desk, and in a way it was very odd. It was as though she had never left. She went downstairs for breakfast with the nuns the next morning, and she told Mother Mary Margaret about the possible movie offer after the others left.
“I haven’t heard back from Rose about it, so maybe it will never happen. I think movie deals are like that, they fall apart more than they get made.”
“How could you be on the set, though, and not have them figure out who you are?”
“I don’t know. I’m worried about it too, but Rose thinks we could make it work, with me pretending to be Mr. Green’s assistant. It’s a little crazy.” But so was her life, writing bestsellers under a pseudonym and pretending to be a man. It didn’t get crazier than that.
“That’s very exciting, Alex,” she said proudly. Her career just kept growing. “So you’d be leaving us again,” she added wistfully.
“Only for a few months.” She wanted to go back to London one day. She had liked it, the people, the city, the culture, the history, the British humor and manners.
Mother MaryMeg rushed off to her office then, and Alex called Brigid, as she had promised. Brigid invited her to their apartment for lunch. She said she was too fat to move or go anywhere. Her due date was two days away, and she had taught her classes right till the end. School was out now and she was on maternity leave till January.
Alex couldn’t believe the size of her when she saw her. “Oh my God, you’re huge,” she said, grinning, and Brigid looked down in dismay at the enormous lump the size of a beach ball.
“I think it’s mostly chocolate cake,” she confessed, “and cheesecake…maybe pecan pie and cupcakes…” she said after she hugged Alex, thrilled to see her. “I missed you so much!”
“Me too,” Alex said, feeling as though she had reclaimed a sister. She had brought a little white knit outfit from Paris for the baby, with embroidered white rosebuds on it, which Brigid held up in delight. It was the prettiest thing she’d ever seen. Her face had gotten fuller too, but she looked blissful, and they talked all afternoon about what Alex had done in London for the past year since the wedding, her trips, Fiona, and a modified, less racy version of her relationship with Ivan, even though Brigid was married now. Alex thought she didn’t need to know all of it, but Brigid could guess. When Alex left, Brigid waddled out to the car Alex had borrowed from the convent.