Chapter 8- Mother's Day

"M-my Mother is a nun?!" Mary Eunice was astounded and for a moment she didn't know what to say or even think. This was probably the last thing she'd ever expected to hear about her birthmother.

"See ya're right where u need to be." Jude smiled.

"Bu-but…Sister, if she's a nun then you must know her!" Mary burst excitedly, the idea that her birthmother was a nun, suddenly making her a lot more comfortable with the idea of meeting her. "Then she must be here!" Mary Eunice paused, her excitement quickly turning back to a state of panic as she spoke that last thought.

Jude sighed. She supposed she was wrong before; she'd thought Mary Eunice had guessed that she might be her Mother already. Looking back on her reaction to the quilt thing, she'd thought she'd clearly given it away. But now that it turned out she hadn't put the pieces together after all, Jude didn't really know what to say. She crossed her arms and bit her lip, struggling to figure out how to reply.

"Oh Sister she is here!" Mary Eunice cried. Jude shrugged.

"Yes Mary Eunice. She's here. And…"

"Please, can I see her? Can't you at least just tell me which one she is! Does she know me…?"

Mary's heart began to panic as she considered all the different possibilities. Perhaps it was worse than she thought: maybe her Mother knew exactly who she was and wanted nothing to do with her. Maybe she repulsed her. Mary gulped, not noticing Jude's growing impatience with her.

"She'll…meet with you Mary Eunice." Jude decided, sighing.

"She, she will! When, where?" Mary wondered how Jude could agree to this for someone else but dared not ask her about it.

"Tomorrow night…ya know the little courtyard at the hotel…the garden with the statue of St. Monica?" Mary nodded quickly.

"I'll have her see you there."

"Oh thank you Sister! Thank you!" Mary burst, hugging her suddenly.

A little later on in the evening, Jude began to wish she wouldn't have promised this. Mary was becoming so irritating with how excited she was. Now she thought she should've just told her outright, but she wanted it to be special, and memorable for both of them. It really was a big deal, not something that should just be blurted out, or casually admitted over dinner.

…..

Mary Eunice had been so excited the night before that she couldn't even sleep. But now that morning had come a deep anxiety flooded over her. This was the day she'd been waiting for, for as long as she could remember. And now that it had arrived she was full of doubt.

She'd had all these expectations about the way her Mother would be, that she'd be nice, that she'd be pretty, that they'd have something in common…and more than anything; that giving her up had not been her choice. Mary had always romanticized her being given up. As a young child she'd told people that her birth parents had given her up but would return for her: like the little orphan Annie and she'd been teased mercilessly for it even into high school. Still, Mary Eunice had always believed this strongly and she'd never known why. She hoped that tonight, after all these years she wouldn't find out she was dead wrong.

Mary was also on edge at the conference that next day. Almost any one of these women could be her Mother and that thought struck her deeply every single time that she looked at one of the possible candidates. Mary tried not to think about it, reasoning that she'd know soon enough. But what if she'd been sitting with her for the past several days and had no idea? What is she was that one she'd accidently tripped on the first day?

Mary couldn't help but weed people out as she looked around the room. Some were just her age; obviously too young. Others, like Mother Claudia were too old. She discounted a few others because they were of the wrong race. Being as fair skinned as she was, she figured that her Mother's complexion would have to be similar to her own. She couldn't, for example, be half Brazilian or something and not know about it. For that reason, she felt fairly confident about discounting brunette women also. She'd been so blonde her whole life that she figured that her Mother would have to have been also.

And then there was the last consideration? What if the other woman's eyes had been centered on her, watching her, knowing, all week long who she was…. What if she knew everything about her already …that idea made her nervous too, that her Mother might know everything there was to know about her when she still had no idea who she was... Finally, Mary took a deep breath sick of the hours of panic she'd endured, thanks to her own unstable emotions.

She remembered suddenly, that no matter why she gave her away, her birthmother had cared enough to send a blanket along with her, one that had given her a lot of comfort for her whole lifetime. At times, it had been the only thing that let her know that she was ever loved or wanted by anyone. And now, today on the most important of days, it served as a gentle reminder, that somehow everything would be okay, she'd get through this just like she'd gotten through everything else.

…..

Jude arrived at the garden almost an hour prior to the time she was supposed to meet Mary Eunice there. She'd purposely kept her distance from the young nun all day long, even leaving their hotel room well before she woke up. She didn't want to give her any clues as to the fact that she was her Mother. And moreover, this was an important, emotional experience for her too: she needed the space and time to herself to think and pray before she reintroduced herself as her Mother.

Jude closed her eyes, sitting down on the bench in front of the statue of St. Monica, hoping that Mary wouldn't see her there. She thought it was a perfect place to think and pray and to meet her daughter for the first time. It was why she'd suggested it in the first place. St. Monica was after all, one of the patron saints of Mothers. If Jude recalled correctly, St. Monica had spent years praying for her son, Augustine to live a better life. Jude had long felt like she could relate to St. Monica, having spent years praying for her daughter to have a happy life, and of course, for her to see her again one day. Now the day she'd prayed for, for so long had finally come. Jude sat on the bench right in front of St. Monica and bowed her head, in an attempt to gather strength.

Jude spent a longer time there than she'd planned and bolted from the bench, back into the depth of the garden when she heard someone coming out of the hotel, their feet hitting the gravel path as they approached the statue.

Mary Eunice's heart pounded as she made her way toward St. Monica. She was tempted to shut her eyes, afraid of who or what she might not see. What if she'd stood her up or something? Mary took a deep breath and ducked under the palm branches that covered the path that led to the statue of St. Monica. She could hear the fountain trickling water in the distance and although the garden was poorly lit; the sound of the fountain kept her focused on where she was going, serving almost as a guide. All seemed quiet and still, save the sound of her pounding heart mixed with the quiet gush of the fountain. Both beats were steady and made Mary realize that even if this didn't go well, all would go on somehow. Mary sat on the bench and took a deep breath, trying to steady herself.

"Hello Mary Eunice." A quiet voice greeted.

"Sister Jude?"

Mary looked around, raising an eyebrow, trying to figure out where the other nun, was.

"She's not coming?" Mary asked, putting her head down.

Jude couldn't believe that Mary still did not understand. Mary watched carefully as Jude smiled and raised her arms out to her, holding them open to her.

Mary gasped, her eyes widening slowly as she looked up. It took no more explaining: very suddenly she understood that no one else was coming: her Mother had arrived.

"I-it's you!" A single tear rolled down Mary's cheek as she stood. "I hoped it'd be you!" She laughed as she continued to cry.

"Oh my baby!" Jude smiled, tears beginning to pour from her own eyes as she took Mary's face gently in her hands. "I've been hoping it'd be you yar whole life." Jude pulled Mary into a hug as she cried, almost cradling the young woman as she kissed the side of her head. "I can't believe it's finally you, after so long, angel. Here, let me look at ya." Jude kept her grasp on Mary put pulled away from her just to step back and look at her.

"Y-you're her. You're my mother." Mary was kind of amazed. Blown away might be a better term.

"I'm yar Mother. Oh look at ya, my beautiful grown up little girl!"

This made the connection between them make all the more sense and that made Mary very happy because she always knew she'd have a connection like this with her mom.

"Mary Eunice, ya're the daughter who was pried out of my arms twenty-six years ago. Rosie, oh my Rosie it's finally you!" Jude cried.

"Rosie?" Mary Eunice questioned.

"It's what I named ya for the two days ya got to be mine."

"Oh." Mary Eunice seemed sad to hear this. "I knew I had a real name…a first name…but I never knew…"

"Rose Olivia Martin. That's your name honey." She's pulling hair out of Mary's face and wiping her tear-stained cheeks.

"I like that. Rose…"

Jude frowned as she watched tears roll down Mary Eunice's cheeks. She wiped them away with her thumb.

"It's alright baby, it's going to be okay. I've been looking for ya; and ya for me and we've found each other now."

"It's just ...I always wondered why my Mother…why you didn't want me." Mary was still afraid to ask this question; but she had to.

"Oh I wanted you!" Jude made sure to emphasize. "I wanted ya so much from the moment I knew ya were growing inside of me, and I've looked for ya, and prayed for ya every day for the past twenty-six years. I was a child myself when ya were born: and I was forced to give ya up against my own will. You were ripped from my arms as I begged and plead to keep ya and held onto ya for dear life."

"How do you know it's really me?"

Mary Eunice felt stupid for asking this, when Jude had just told her a gut-wrenching story. Besides, she'd felt an immediate connection to the older nun that she couldn't explain. There was no way she wasn't her Mother. Instead of speaking, Jude brought her locket out from under her collar. Mary watched with intrigue as Jude opened it up.

"That's me!" Mary Eunice gasped quietly.

"And ya see ya're always on my heart." Jude explained, beginning to cry again.

"Mama."

"There, there it's okay…" She gathered the young nun back in her arms.

"I've wondered about you too. So you did, you did want me?"

"More than I can say. I have no words far how much I wanted ya and have yar whole life. They ripped ya out of my arms and I held on to ya for dear life and fought and kicked and screamed. But they gave ya ta strangers! And all I could do, was hope that ya were provided for better than I could provide for ya…only I knew that no one could love ya like I would've…like I did even though ya weren't with me. Were ya loved?"

"What does it say that I-I always wanted to come and find you?"

"Everything I already knew."

"Mama." Mary Eunice said again.

"It's, it's nice to hear you say that. Mama." Jude said, it filled her with complete joy to hear Mary Eunice say this. It was like the opposite of complete heartbreak.

"Mama?" Mary Eunice asked. It struck her as strange that it wasn't at all strange to call Sister Jude Mama…calling her Sister Jude had been odd.

"Yes."

"Since you are my Mother…can…"

"Yes?" Jude asked. Mary Eunice paused, she wasn't really sure of how to phrase this.

"Can we keep getting to know each other…you know, as Mom and daughter…as family."

"Oh baby. I wouldn't have it any other way. Ya've always been my family. I do, however, think its best that we keep this relationship to ourselves." Mary Eunice nodded, she understood why this would be a good idea.

"H-how'd you know it was me?"

"I knew it the moment I laid eyes on ya. Ya looked just like ya did when I first held ya…same smile, chin, eyes…that nose…same look on your face. I knew ya were my Rosie…uh, my Mary Eunice."

"It's okay Mom…you can call me Rosie." Mary wanted to be called Rosie.

"I know but I love ya as Mary Eunice just the same." She offered.

"I love you too Mom." They hugged. "What about my-my…"

"Yar what?"

"Dad…"

"I was only fifteen." Jude sighed, taking her daughter's hand as the two sat down on the bench together. "Almost sixteen, when you were born." That made a lot of sense to Mary Eunice. "Yar father was a boy I went to school with, he was a couple of years older. We were very close and he moved away shortly before I realized I was pregnant with you…I think if he had been there, things might have been different. He came back a few years later. We were both much older."

"Were you a nun then?"

"Oh no, no. Not for many years after that. But he came back, and we got back together and I told him about you." Jude explained, a tear pouring down her cheek. "Was he ever happy with the idea of you."

"He was?" She hadn't been expecting to hear that.

"Oh he was." She nodded. "He promised me. He promised me that when he returned from the war…when he returned from the war we were going to get married and go looking for ya."

"Y-you were looking for me?"

"Yes. Both of us. Separately and together. But me especially. I looked for ya before he came back, I looked for ya after he was gone."

"G-gone?" She asked, figuring her Father probably abandoned her Mother once she found out about her and she just wasn't saying it.

"He was-he was killed in action, June 1942."

This was still hard for Jude to talk about, of the many men in her life, Mary Eunice's Father had been the one she loved most of all.

"He's…he's…"

"Yes honey, yes he is. Far a long time now." Mary Eunice's heart sunk when she heard this.

"If he weren't, I'd be married to him now, we would've found ya, and taken ya home, no matter what the cost, and given ya three little brothers…that's what we decided." Mary Eunice sniffled at this, knowing she would've liked that life.