The Virgin

But she wasn’t free. The dreams proved that. And she couldn’t get rid of her collar. Not yet. She put it back in her bag and resolved to forget about it. At least this time she didn’t kiss it before putting it away.

The 5:00 a.m. bell rang. She grabbed the blankets off the floor, made her bed and pulled on the thick white terry cloth bathrobe she’d been given her second day here. Even in a house of all women, modesty was to be maintained at all times. No running to the bathroom at night wearing only underwear and a T-shirt. She had to be covered up, neck to toe, every day, at all times.

In the bathroom at the end of the hall, Elle took a quick shower, pulled her hair back in a tight knot and dressed in the black tights, long black skirt and white blouse that had become her uniform here at the abbey. No one would have mistaken her for a nun, but no one from her old life would have recognized her now in such conservative clothing.

Alone in the kitchen, Elle had her usual breakfast of coffee, eggs, fruit and toast. Only on Sunday mornings did the menu change to something more exotic than the breakfast basics. While the sisters were at Lauds, Elle headed to the laundry room where she would spend the next five hours until lunchtime.

Her life at the abbey had been difficult at first. She argued with the more irascible nuns, she’d been unceremoniously tossed out of the kitchen for ruining one too many dishes with her bad cooking and she’d been kicked out of the library for rearranging all the books. Who on earth had decided to put the books in order by title? No one who’d ever worked in a real library or a bookstore would arrange books in such an ass-backward way. She’d worked in a bookstore for years and had even fucked a librarian. She knew how books worked. But the sisters had their own idea of order and didn’t appreciate any attempts at improvement.

That left her alone in the laundry room all day. She washed sheets. She dried sheets. She folded sheets. The next day she did it again. She washed habits. She ironed habits. She folded habits. The next day she did it again. Hardly slave labor, but it certainly didn’t excite her. Then again, no one came to a convent for excitement. She’d come to the convent for the opposite of excitement, and the opposite of excitement was exactly what she’d found here. She had safety. She had peace and quiet. And she hadn’t seen Søren and Kingsley in months.

Elle refilled her coffee mug, put her dishes in the sink and left the kitchen. Once in the laundry room she tried to work up the energy to do something. All she wanted was to go back to bed and sleep until the second coming. Of course, in her theology the second coming had nothing to do with Jesus’s return and everything to do with having another orgasm.

She hopped onto the tile counter by the sink and looked out the window while she drank her coffee. She could see the road from the window, see the front lawn of the abbey and could see the wrought-iron fence that surrounded the convent’s acreage—one hundred twenty in total, give or take a few square feet. All of it from the sides of the abbey to the edge of the farthest field was fenced in in one way or another. The side and back gardens were fenced in by iron. The fields of farmland and well-manicured forest were fenced in with white wood. And the entire abbey was fenced in by the rules. Rule number one—never leave the grounds without permission. Elle didn’t have permission to leave, so here she stayed.

Since she couldn’t leave and didn’t want to, she stared out at the road and watched the occasional car pass on its way to or from town. She saw one now, a blue Audi, but instead of passing by like every other car she’d seen since coming here, it turned into the long abbey driveway. Slowly it crept toward the convent before coming to a gentle stop.

As if on cue, a dozen sisters in their black-and-white habits streamed from the front doors toward the car. Elle had never seen the sisters leave the abbey. They did, of course. Sometimes they had doctors’ appointments or dentists’ appointments or Mother Prioress would visit with someone important in the city who wanted to buy their land or sell them more. But Elle had only heard about sisters leaving, never seen it happen.

The car doors opened and a man got out of the driver’s side, a woman out of the passenger’s. They looked about midforties, married, not terribly interesting. But then the woman opened the back door of the Audi and out stepped a young woman. She had reddish-brown hair sun-streaked with pale gold highlights that reminded Elle of feathers, like the tips of a dove’s wings. Her hair fell in waves down her back. She had flowers in her hair—white flowers. And the long dress she wore was simple and white. The man pulled a small suitcase from the trunk. The woman took the girl’s hand in hers, but only for a moment.

Now the sisters surrounded the trio and quickly pried the young woman from her parents. Yes, of course, they had to be her parents and this girl was entering the order. It didn’t seem right, though. The girl barely looked twenty-one. And what a beauty...a tiny thing who couldn’t have weighed more than a hundred pounds.

“Don’t do it, sweetheart,” Elle whispered. “Get back in the car and drive...”

As if the girl could hear her, she glanced up at the window and squinted. Elle froze. Did the girl see her? Probably. What did it matter? The girl raised her hand and waved at her. Elle didn’t know what to do so she waved back. Mother Prioress turned and glanced up at the window, but Elle had already ducked away from it out of sight. She panted in nervousness and didn’t know why. Nothing but a girl, a beautiful young girl who’d waved at her. Nothing to panic about.