“I put my career first and was always traveling and too busy and then it was too late.”
“So, you lied to yourself, also?”
Her heartbeat thrummed in her ears. Her protestations of:the time to have a child was never idealrang in her head. All that time—she lied—not only to David but also to herself. “I guess so, although I don’t think I was aware of it at the time. I’m not proud of it, but I guess I didn’t really want children, otherwise I would have made sure it happened.”
“And you were afraid to tell your husband the truth?”
“Mmm-hmm.” Her mouth dried.
“What did you fear?”
Sounds like crashing waves pounded in her ears. Why didn’t he just prescribe fiveHail Marysand be done with it? “I—I was afraid if I told him…, he wouldn’t love me anymore.” She pressed her fingers against her lips, holding back a sob. Where had that come from? Was it true?
“Mmm. Do you really think he would have stopped loving you?”
“No.” Her rapid reply surprised her. But that didn’t mean she wasn’t afraid of the possibility, however unlikely. She couldn’t live without David’s love. Even now, the memory of his love kept her buoyed like a life jacket.
“Can you tell him the truth now?’
“No,” she cried. “He passed away.” Her sob escaped. “And he never knew.”
The priest made comforting humming sounds. “What do you think he might say if you could tell him now?’
“He’d be so disappointed in me.” She wiped her eyes.
“Why don’t you try imagining him? Remember how much he loved you and see if you can tell him.”
She stared at the screen, hoping the man behind it saw only her silhouette, like she could only see his. She imagined David’s soft brown eyes, filled with love and caring. She had thought he’d be angry, but he opened his arms and stretched them toward her. “David?” she whispered. “I thought…I thought I wanted children, but I didn’t, and I didn’t know it then, but I know now that I didn’t, but it wasn’t because of the children, I was afraid, I think, because I didn’t want to be like my mother.” She gulped a breath. “I didn’t know it then, and I’m so, so sorry.” She closed her eyes, feeling him embrace her, enclosing her with his strong arms, his lips pressed to her forehead. He released her, and his warmth left her like a retreating tide.
Her arms ached with longing. “I think he forgives me. I’m not sure.”
“I think he does, and I hope in time you will forgive yourself.”
“For lying, you mean?”
“Lying to someone when you know the truth is a lie. But if you are also lying to yourself as well as the other person, it’s not as big a lie. Do you know why you lied to yourself?”
“No. I must have been so convincing, even I believed myself.”
“It takes great courage to explore why one lies to herself. But now that you have admitted that you did lie, perhaps learning why won’t be too difficult.”
“I hope not.” She pulled a tissue from her pocket and wiped her face. “Thank you, Father. You’re probably going to have me pray a rosary for my penance.” She huffed a laugh.
“I think there is something that might help you more than a rosary.”
Not wanting her to do her penance? What kind of priest was this man? “In America, there is always penance. Is that not so in France?”
“Yes, but in this case, there is something I think would be more helpful to you. One of our nuns is from Canada. She misses speaking English. Sister Georgette would love to share a cup of tea and a conversation with an English-speaker. She also bakes cookies that are so delicious they are sold in the market. I’m sure she’d share some and enjoy a visit with you.”
The last thing Claire wanted to do was talk with a nun who would remind her of all the years she spent at boarding school. “Of course, Father. I’d be happy to.” A stickiness rose in her throat. She hadn’t even finished her confession and was lying again already.
“When you leave by the great doors, turn to your left and ring the bellpull at the right of the blue door.”
“I’m sure I can find it.” She would turn right, pretend to be confused, and flee. Yet another lie, and she wasn’t even out of the confessional. She’d pray twoAct of Contritions.
“I absolve you of your sins. I’ll give you a blessing in French if you don’t mind.”
“Merci, Father.” She bowed her head.
