Sister Catherine

By Roger Hanson

This twenty-five-year-old woman never wanted to be a nun, but she was forced into it by an overwhelming father-an attorney and staunch Catholic. Her convent sent her to get a master's degree in English without consulting her, and vows of obedience or not, she got tired of her life being pushed around. She didn't have to wear a habit while at school and befriended a man named Derrick and stumbled into a romance with him, which led to her pregnancy. The story begins when she is three mo

• Language: English
• Publisher: Page Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Nov 13, 2020
• ISBN: 9781644242667

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Sister Catherine

Roger Hanson

Copyright © 2018 Roger Hanson

All rights reserved

First Edition

PAGE PUBLISHING, INC.

New York, NY

First originally published by Page Publishing, Inc. 2018

ISBN 978-1-64424-263-6 (Paperback)

ISBN 978-1-64424-265-0 (Hardcover)

ISBN 978-1-64424-266-7 (Digital)

Printed in the United States of America

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Sister Catherine was not the best nun in the world. She sat in the second row at St. Mark’s Church in Willows next to Mother Superior. They were both from St. Cecilia’s Church, a two-hour drive away. They were at the funeral service of Derrick Thomas knowing that Catherine’s membership in Sisters of Mercy would be short lived. She was three months pregnant with the child of the man whose funeral she was now attending, and she was just starting to show.

She had kept a tight lid on her condition. Word had leaked out but still, hardly anyone knew. Three months. That was the last time she had seen Derrick. She recently vowed that she would not see him again, that she would really try to be a good nun. But not seeing him was a vow she would have trouble keeping. Anyway, just how was a pregnant nun supposed to keep a vow, let alone a secret? She had never been good at keeping either one. Did she love Derrick or Jesus more? Probably Derrick, something she could not admit to anyone, not even herself. What did it matter? Both of them were dead.

Father Flannigan walked slowly up the isle which matched the pace of his sermons. There were many empty seats at the service. It was just as well. He had come to accept that he was never going to be the best of speakers and never get a full house at any service he gave. He was boring and, in spite of many suggestions from the monsignor, simply couldn’t get a handle on good speaking.

It was just as well for Sister Catherine, too. It gave her time to reflect, and there was a lot of that to do. She had always been frivolous and felt relieved one day when she realized she had been born like that. Her mother and especially her sister were just the same. It wasn’t her fault, but the feeling that she had to do something about it was part of the reason she allowed herself to be coaxed into taking her vows.

She was compassionate and smart, just a little dingy and even laughed at bad jokes. She was the last of six children, and her father was a staunch Catholic. It had always been his plan that the last child, boy or girl, would enter the church. He overwhelmed her mother so she had nothing to say about it. Otherwise, he wanted grandchildren to carry on his line—plenty of grandchildren—but he had none so far.

His children were in their twenties and thirties. One child had two miscarriages, one was a confirmed bachelor, one was dead, two lived in Japan—one a gay whom he’d disowned, and another married to a Japanese man he didn’t like. Lastly, his youngest child, Cathy, was in the convent. Arthur Melrose, attorney-at-law, in control of everything but having grandchildren.

Anyway, Sister Catherine, Cathy, vowed she would never let her father know she was pregnant even if she had to lie to him. She had taken vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience but none of honesty. That seemed kind of strange.

It was at least confusing. She had entered the convent with her own vow that she would get her feet flat on the ground, and she was really making progress. She was a teacher but had done volunteer tutoring and often helped serving food to the poor. And once, when a counselor could not keep an appointment, she filled in on the spot and spent practically two hours of time with a troubled old man who called her a saint. She instantly found her forte and was hooked. She would be a counselor.

So she thought. She had graduated from St. Mary’s and became an elementary teacher. One afternoon, four weeks into the school year, her President, still preferring to use the archaic title of Mother Superior, called her out of class and told her to pack her bags; she was being sent to get a Master’s degree in English.

She told Mother about her desire to be a counselor and was quickly told that was out of the question; that she must pay more attention to her vow of obedience. For an instant, Cathy was beside herself. She was reminded of the story her brother told of his drill sergeant calling him a disgrace to the service because his belt buckle wasn’t shined properly. Oh, yes, her feet had come entirely off the ground at the moment, and she had to use all her strength to reattach them. Mother Superior could see she was enraged, a feeling that is forbidden among nuns. She said, Sister, I want you to do ten ‘Hail Mary’s’ until you cool down, which didn’t help Cathy’s mood at all.

Off she went to do her penance and then get her Master’s degree. She, by her own request, was in the process of being transferred from a traditional order to a progressive one, but there had been a snag, holding things up. Still, while at school, she could have her own living quarters and not have to live in a convent.

Writing was challenging to her, though, because of a scheduling snag, she took an advanced class in that subject. She was, however, a conscientious student and paid good attention to all the rules of writing presented in class. She was actually doing quite well.

Surprisingly, this class would be either her salvation or undoing, though it’d be quite a while before she would figure out which one.

In class she sat next to Derrick Thomas, who was a plumber by trade. They chatted after class sometimes. He was a nice looking guy. His moustache looked good on him, blonde, matching his hair color perfectly. And that angular shaped face—wow. She was sizing him up!

Sister Catherine was on a student’s schedule now, she did not wear a habit. This allowed her much more freedom than at the convent.

One evening she and Derrick went to Pete’s Grill after class, just to discuss writing, of course. But that didn’t explain why they ended up at Pete’s after every class.

How’d you get into plumbing? she asked Derrick.

"Well, I went through the union, of course. Then the guy I worked for started having troubles, losing customers. He was not a good businessman. He didn’t seem to know what a fifth grader could figure out. If a customer calls, call him back.

It was sort of on a lark that I bought him out, but I worked hard at getting customers and when I did, I got a lot of repeat business. In fact, one of them was you guys. I put in a new kitchen at St. Cecilia’s last year, so I do general construction too. Father Flannigan oversaw the job. He’s a little awkward but so funny. Anyway, I’ve got five guys working for me right now.

Cathy smiled. St. Cecilia’s is a long way to go for a job.

"It was a good