The old woman pressed the palms of her hands together, tapping her twisted fingers slowly against their counterparts. She hadn’t said much during the hour that Sister Lucinda sat with her in the nursing home. When she did speak, her voice cracked and made her sound like the Hungarian woman the Sister remembered from the dark and scary movies when she was a child.

“He was so handsome,” Irene finally managed to utter. “I had a picture of him before they moved me.”

“What happened when they moved you?” Sister Lucinda asked.

“I don’t know. They just up and swept me out of my house, and put me here. I had a lot of things. They wouldn’t let me bring them along.”

Sister Lucinda looked around the tiny room with the hospital style bed and two vinyl covered chairs for visitors. Irene had a television, and a rolling tray table. Through her window the view allowed her to see a beautiful garden in a courtyard that Lifecare at The Willows had been built around. Lucinda visited St. Paul’s members at this rehab center. They were all somewhat depressing, but the garden that could be seen from every room made this place a little nicer than most.

“They didn’t just sweep you out, Irene. You had to come here, but it’s not forever. You’ll be going home.”

“Yeah, well that’s what they told that old man across the hall. He didn’t go home, did he? I’ll probably die here too.”

“Now don’t start up with that. Tell me more about Mr. Thomas.”

“He was a lady’s man, he was. I’ll tell you that. If I could get my hands on that picture, I’d show you. I wish you could find it for me.”

“You just tell me about him. I have a good imagination, and I’m sure I’ll see his face in your words.”

“He always wore a hat when he went outside. As long as I can remember he had that same hat. I kept it after he was gone, because I couldn’t part with it. Do you have things like that? You know, things you can’t bear to part with?”

“Yes I do. I don’t have many things, but I have some worldly possessions that I would be lost without. I shouldn’t admit that, should I?” And the two ladies laughed a bit after Sister Lucinda’s confession.

“Believe me, I don’t have that many things either, and I won’t tell anybody about yours if you promise not to tell about mine.”

“It’s a deal. We won’t tell.”

“I told you I kept that hat. It was like one that Humphrey Bogart wore in the movie with Kathryn Hepburn. He always liked Bogey, and when he found a hat like that, he snatched it up right quick. Everywhere we went, he wore that hat. Of course, men wore hats back then. You don’t see it too much these days.”

“No you don’t, but that’s a shame. I like hats on men and women. You should wear a hat.”

“Me? The only reason I ever wear a hat is to cover up this old wiry hair of mine.”

“Where is Mr. Thomas’ hat?”

“I don’t know anymore. I’m afraid I’ve lost it. Really, I’m afraid I’ve lost everything.”

“You still have things at your house, don’t you?”

“They took my house. I told you that.”

“No, honey. I don’t remember that. Who took your house?”

“They said I had to be poor, so they sold my house right out from under me.”

“But, I remember you were there before the operation.”

“Yeah, I could live there, but it wasn’t mine no more. I bet everything’s gone now. It’s been too long. They don’t think I’m going home anymore. They don’t even visit me now. I don’t even know where my things are. All I want are my things. I want Howard’s hat, my books, and my bracelets. He always bought me bracelets, and I wore them for him. They took all my jewelry off at the hospital.”

Sister Lucinda sat silently, not having anything comforting to say. She looked out the window at the section of five rose bushes that were planted directly in the center of the garden. She admired the deep red flowers as Irene continued to talk about her items.

“He left me things they don’t know about. I’m supposed to be poor so this is all paid for. They all believed those were dime store bracelets, because they were so big. One of them has twenty-four diamonds, each a full caret.”

“That must be a pretty bracelet.”

“Oh, it is. I have a bunch of them, too. You said you wouldn’t tell anybody.”

“I know I did, and I won’t.” Lucinda listened on into the waning afternoon hours, her eyes studied the bright peonies planted in spokes coming out from the centered rose bushes and stretched to the sidewalk that surrounded the garden. She loved God’s beautiful creations, and was willing to listen as long as there was light.

“My favorite book has been lost too.  It’s called Forever Temptation.  I wish you could help me find my things.  There all somewhere, stashed together. I put them in a box. Hard telling where the jewelry they took at the hospital wound up. It’s probably long gone by now. Must have been worth about fifty thousand, too. That’s nothing though. Don’t tell anybody, but Harold had a lot of money to hide in those bracelets. Bet there’s over two million dollars there.”

“What? Surely you’re wrong.”

“No, Harold knew what he was doing. Diamonds hold their value. He always told me that. He knew Tommy would just take the money and run if something happened to us, so he made sure nobody knew we had a pot to piss in. Excuse me Sister. That’s just the way he always put it.”

“It’s fine, Irene. I’ve heard much worse.” They shared another small fit of laughter together.

“Harold was very smart, you know,” Irene tapped Sister Lucinda on the back of her hand. “He knew Tommy would figure out a way to get the money from me if he went first.”

“Sounds like he was smart. I wish I’d had a chance to get to know Harold.”

“Oh, you would’ve liked him. He was a handsome man. Did I tell you that?”

“Yes you did.”

“Well, he sure was, and smart. He invested you know.”

“No I didn’t know that. What happened to Harold?”

“You mean how’d he die?”

“Yeah. That’s what I was getting at.”

“He just got old, like me.”

“Come on.”

“No, his heart gave out. Nothing exciting. I wasn’t even home that day. Tommy found him. By the time they got me from the church luncheon, he was already down at the funeral home. Old Doc Reed picked him up. He’s the director there, and he’s the coroner. He just took him straight there. Nothing strange about that, but people take it funny when I tell them.”

“It’s a little town. I understand.” Lucinda sat back in her chair and gazed at the lavender planted all along the perimeter of the garden, lining the sidewalk. Its wonderful purple blooms encircled the landscape like a bracelet around a wrist. She had always admired such beauty from afar.

“Where you going, girl?”

“What?” Lucinda asked, as she sat up straight and reached for her tea.

“You’re thinking about that box, aren’t you?”

“No, Irene. I keep looking out at that garden. It’s starting to get dark outside. I won’t be able to see it in a while.”

“It’s alright dear. I keep thinking about it myself.”

“The garden?”

“No, the box.”

“I’m really not concerned about that. Look out there at those white peonies planted in those hoops. That’s what I find beautiful. You are lucky here.”

“Those white flowers are like my diamonds. I’ve plenty of those in hoops somewhere. Will you help me find them?”

“I’ll certainly help you with anything you want, Irene. That doesn’t mean they interest me in the least. My guess is that they’re back at your house, waiting for you to come home.”

“They were there, but I hid the box.”

“Where did you hide it?”

“You are interested. I knew it. Shame on you, girl.”

“I’m making conversation, and I think it’s about time I leave.” Sister Lucinda stood, the black cloth of her dress dropping to gather around her feet. “I will certainly help you, but don’t make anything more of it. I’ll be back in a few days, Irene.”

“Will you go to the house?”

“You mean your house?”

“I told you it’s not my house anymore. Will you go and look for the box with Harold’s hat and my bracelets? For some reason I feel a need to hold his hat for him, and put on those bracelets. He’ll want to see me in them.”

“I will. I’ll be back in a few days. You don’t worry about anything. You’re getting tired now, I can tell.”

“Bye Sister Lucinda. I may be tired, but remember, I know how many bracelets should be in that box.”

“Hold your mouth, Irene. Let’s say a prayer, and I’ll be gone for now.” Shortly after saying a prayer and her goodbyes to Irene, Sister Lucinda left Lifecare at the Willows for the last time.

Early the next morning, Lucinda made her routine visit to St. Paul’s church, talked with a visitor, and completed her daily chores. She then climbed back into her shiny silver Subaru and drove to Irene’s house. The car had gotten older, and seemed to Lucinda to be running worse today than yesterday. She adored her Subaru, one of her few possessions. Keeping it clean and running well had always been important to her. She thought of Irene; she thought of the garden in the courtyard of the rehab center; she thought of beautiful things and she felt guilty.

She arrived to an empty house, and a locked door. Looking around to make sure nobody was watching her, she went to the side and then to the back of the small brick home. She cupped her hands around her eyes to shield the glare and put her hands up to a window. Just as she could see from the front door, Irene’s home was completely empty.

A small basement window next to the concrete back porch attracted her attention as she descended the three steps. She knelt to look. Light from an adjacent window appeared in beams caused by the split window pane. Lucinda could see the furnace in a corner, and rough wooden shelves that still appeared to hold canned goods and mason jars. Just past the shelves, sitting on the floor she could see what she thought to be a brown cardboard box. Her imagination played tricks with her; she squinted and stared to make sure she really saw a box. Her heart jumped at the thought of somebody moving in and finding Irene’s things.

“No, it’s not real,” she said to herself.

Embarrassed, she stood and looked around. She was still alone. With her left foot, she lightly touched the window and it rocked open on its top hinges. She was of small build. She could fit, but not in this dress.

“Stop it!” she said again to herself.

Tears started to flow. She reached down and pulled the window shut, and hurried back to her Subaru, which looked as she approached it like a beat-up wreck of a car. She climbed in and drove away, still fighting the tears and trying to see the road. She went straight to Lifecare at the Willows.

“Where’s Irene?” Sister Lucinda almost yelled at the nurse in the hall outside the room she had just visited the day before.

“I’m sorry Sister,” the nurse said. “Irene died this morning.”

Lucinda covered her mouth and stared into the room, looking past the empty bed, through the window and out to the garden in the courtyard. As she began to cry, she turned and nearly ran to the door and back to her Subaru, which she doubted would even start to carry her away from there.

She returned to the church, and went to the back rooms located down a dark corridor, found an empty office typically used for visitations between priests and members needing guidance, closing and locking the door as she entered. Sitting at the round table in the center of the room she peered through the window, thinking about poor Irene, thinking about the missing box with Howard’s hat, thinking about the bracelets. Outside, she saw the dingy churchyard, adorned with overgrown weeds and a broken bench. She understood the lack of urgency to keep the parish windows clean.

Sister Lucinda couldn’t help comparing the two lives which seemed somehow possible to her now, anymore than she compared the varied views from the windows she had gazed through. She was human, afterall.

During the evening of that same day, Lucinda went to the home that once belonged to Irene Thomas.

The Priests and other Nuns missed Sister Lucinda right away. She never failed to appear during the early morning welcome to the new day, a ritual performed to open the church to the masses each and every new dawn.

A full week passed before Lucinda pulled to the curb in front of St. Paul’s church, and got out of her silver car. She went inside and knelt before the alter. Father James ran toward her when he realized she had returned.

“Sister Lucinda,” he yelled, surprising a few people that sat in the pews.

Lucinda looked up as Father James approached. “Hello Father.”

“We’ve been worried about you, Lucinda.”

“Yes, I know. I’m very sorry.”

“We even have the police involved. I’ll tell Sister Alice to call them right away. Don’t you go anywhere.”

“I won’t Father.”

She continued to kneel and pray until Father James returned.

“I’m leaving Father,” she said.

“What do you mean, dear?”

“I’m leaving the church.”

“You must think on this, Lucinda. It’s an enormous decision.”

“I have thought very long, Father. I still believe, but I can’t commit to my calling. I must make this change Father. I just couldn’t do so without speaking to you.”

“What will you do? Where will you go?”

“I’ll still be working with God’s creation, Father. I’m pursuing my love for botany.”

“Your flowers, yes. That is strange Lucinda. We received a very generous donation yesterday from an anonymous source. It stipulated that a quarter of the amount must be used to create a garden in our courtyard.”

“That’s wonderful, Father.”

“It is very specific. I plan to call a landscape company today. The donor drew plans with rose bushes in the center and spokes of peonies fanning out to the edges.”

“It sounds beautiful.”

Lucinda hugged Father James and with tears in both their eyes, they parted. She went through the massive door and out toward the street. A smile crossed her faced as she looked upon her shiny silver Audi. She climbed into the new car, started the engine, admired the Bogart hat sitting on the passenger seat, and drove away without looking back.