The Convent Rose (The Roses) by Lynn Shurr Page A

and moved to Houston, he moved to the west coast. I was supposed to follow him after graduation, but I couldn’t leave my mother.”
    “But he wrote, called, kept in touch, and loves you still?” Sr. Helen asked as she raised a spoonful of quivering cherry Jell-O to her lips. The doctor said gelatin might be good for her old bones and couldn’t really be considered a sweet even during Lent.
    “Well, no. Our communications stopped after a few months. By the time my mother died, I had no idea where he lived. Now, he reappears in Lafayette doing some sort of installation for Red Courville.”
    “Did you try to find him all those years ago?”
    “No. I needed some time alone, to work on my art, to gather my energy.”
    “And that time has turned into ten years. I remember when you returned here worn out and in debt.” Sr. Helen nodded emphatically to show it wasn’t just her old age palsy.
    “This place heals.”
    “We hoped you might join our order,” Sr. Inez remarked.
    “I considered it, but something held me back. I can’t define it.”
    “Tell us about the other man,” Sr. Inez urged Eve.
    “I hardly know him really. We spoke only once when I attended here. I thought he might be interested in me, but he started dating one of the other girls at the Academy, and he never gave me another glance. Oh, I had a silly crush on him. Those blue eyes, a rodeo rider, kind of dangerous, he had everything going to attract an immature schoolgirl. Now he’s back in town and, well, taking notice of me. Or so I thought until his old girlfriend showed up.”
    “Bodey Landrum and that—” Sr. Inez clamped her mouth shut tight.
    “Renee Niles. We remember. Every time Fr. Cyrus heard confession from that girl, he looked as if he’d aged a year. We feared Bodey might come to tempt you after he stopped you on the bridle trail. Sr. Nessy told me all about his lurking under the oaks that day and how you arrived late back at the barn,” Sr.Helen revealed. “Oh yes, I recall him well waiting for the Niles girl after classes, a very handsome young man with blue, blue eyes.” She gave a wispy sigh.
    “He’s probably sown his wild oats by now, and a man who is good with horses might be a good man,” Sr. Inez said thoughtfully.
    “Perhaps the artist became involved with his work but never forgot you,” Sr. Helen weighed in.
    “I feel awkward with both of them. I’m just not good at dealing with men.”
    Sr. Helen considered. “Men like blondes, I believe, and you are a blonde. Maybe if you wore your hair loose, it would help.”
    “And wore more fitted clothes,” Sr.Inez said looking at the baggy, paint-speckled shirt that hung to Eve’s knees. “Not that we’re advocating pre-marital sex, but you can’t catch fish without bait.”
    “That’s what Ja’nae Plato suggested when she loaned me one of her dresses. It might have worked, but then Hardy Courville and Renee Hayes got all mixed up in it, and I just don’t know if I want to try…”
    “Life again?” Sr. Inez suggested.
    “Perhaps you should take your problem to the Holy Mother. The Blessed Virgin had a husband and a son. She’d know about men,” Sr. Helen speculated.
    “I’d suggest Mary Magdalene. She had more experience,” Sr. Inez said.
    “I suppose prayer is always worth a try,” Eve answered. She collected the trays, stacked the dishes for the two nuns, and carried the dirty dinnerware to the kitchen.
    “Eve will need some temporal help as well if that Niles ho—” Sr. Inez started to say.
    Sr. Helen put a finger to her lips. “Don’t earn yourself an act of contrition, Nessy. Your knees and hips are too bad. I do think we need to check out these two men and give Eve our advice and some assistance. She deserves some happiness, but only with the right man.”
    “My thoughts alone about Renee will earn me a penance. I have an idea.”
    Sr. Inez gave Eve a beatific smile on her return. “Eve, dear, would you consider giving two old nuns