1. Celine #2
We follow them, my parents walking side by side, while I trail behind.
When we turn right down another hall, this one made of stone, it makes me think the lobby and the hall full of offices we just walked through were added on.
A few feet down, we are met with massive, dark wooden doors that stand wide open, allowing us to view the room inside.
When I walk in, I am in awe of what I see.
There are rows of stone pillars along the outer sides of the pews.
They stretch up towards the high ceiling and arch at the top, connecting to the pillars on the opposite side of the room.
The walls, much like the hall we were just in, are made of a dark gray stone.
Being in this room makes it feel like we are standing in an old castle, not a church.
On each side of the chapel are two windows made entirely out of beautiful stained glass.
The glass in each window creates the image of an angel, with reds and blues surrounding the white glass that makes up the angel’s body, and the yellow, smaller pieces that create her hair.
Every angel is different on each window, and the sun shining through adds a pretty color to the dark space.
At the front stands an altar, covered in a white cloth with a stainless steel wine glass sitting on top, and a large golden cross hanging on the wall behind the altar, and two more stained glass windows on either side of it.
This place is nothing like the church my parents attend. This one looks straight out of a movie. I just can’t decide if that movie is a happy one or a horror.
Turning around to look at the entirety of the room from the front, I spot a large wooden box on the back wall, right by where we entered. There are two doors on it, and I know from past experiences that it is a confessional booth.
As I inspect it from afar, voices from the hall catch my attention. Two women in white dresses pass by the door. Both glance in, offering a soft smile before walking away.
My parents are quietly talking with a nun. Instead of standing with them, I remain by the side of the other nun. “When is the service starting?”
“Oh, there is no service today, my dear.” The older nun responds with a smile.
“So we aren’t here to listen to the pastor preach?”
My mother’s lips form a tight line. “Here, Celine, they prefer to be called priests.”
“Sorry,” I apologize softly, afraid that I had insulted the nuns.
“That is okay,” The younger nun assures me. “You will learn.”
No, I won’t because I’m not coming back here. I can’t say that, of course, but I smile and nod in response.
“Now, if we go back out into the hall, we can show you the rest of the convent.”
I allow my parents to walk forward, and I follow a few steps behind them, accompanied by the nun that was speaking to my parents. “What is a convent?”
“It is usually a place where we nuns live, work, and pray, but we do things a little differently in this convent,” she begins to explain.
“Here, we treat it as a place for women who are confused about their faith or who would like to have a closer relationship with God. They come here to learn what it means to have that faith and to serve. Given that they are here for a while, we have bedrooms for them to stay in.”
“They willingly come here?” The question slips out before I can register what I said. Thankfully, my mother was too far away to have heard me.
The nun remains quiet for a moment before she lets out a soft hum. “Majority of the time, yes.” What the hell was that supposed to mean? “My fellow sisters teach classes, and we have our priest, Father Keaton, who leads our sermons. He is very kind and… oh, there he is!”
We are now back in the hall outside of the chapel, and an older man is approaching us with another man who seems to be around my age.
“Sister Alice, how are you today?” Father Keaton asks.
The man who stands before us has dark hair and eyes to match.
Even though they are a darker shade than I have ever seen before, there is still a kindness to them.
He appears to be my parents’ age, maybe a little bit younger.
The smile that he gives Sister Alice is warm and inviting, which eases my nerves a little.
“Very well,” she replies. “We are giving a tour to the Monroe family.” She gestures to me and then to my parents.
Father Keaton says his hellos to them and then turns back to me, extending a hand with the same smile that Sister Alice received. “It is very nice to meet you—”
“Celine.” I introduce myself.
“Celine,” he repeats my name before releasing my hand. “This is Father Alexander Cohen.”
“Hello.” My head dips in greeting.
“Hello, Celine. It is nice to meet you.” His voice is smooth, just as his appearance.
His dark brown hair is longer, with pieces falling onto his forehead.
The light above us reflects off his dark strands, making them shine.
His hair is beautiful, but when I bring my eyes down to look into his own, I inhale a sharp breath.
They are a beautiful amber, but appear like gold.
They are warm, inviting, and unique—more than my own.
Mine are a very light green, appearing almost gray in certain lighting.
Father Alexander offers me a smile that makes my body feel as though it were melting. The man is attractive. Maybe the most beautiful man I have ever seen in my life.
“How have you enjoyed your tour so far?” Father Keaton asks me, which causes my eyes to drag away from Father Alexander.
“The chapel is beautiful,” I respond truthfully.
“We put a lot of work into it. I am glad that hard work paid off and you appreciate its beauty.” He beams with pride.
I half-smile, my eyes moving to the man beside him, who still has his eyes on me but is no longer smiling.
“Have you seen the courtyard yet?” Father Keaton asks. “There are numerous plants and flowers that the Sisters tend to. I think you will find it just as beautiful as the chapel.”
“We were just about to head that way.” The woman beside me announces. “Then we were going to stop by your office, if you are not busy.”
“By all means, stop by! Father Alexander and I have notes to go over, but we will be in there when you are ready.”
They say their goodbyes and leave us in the hall to explore the courtyard. Father Keaton wasn’t lying; it is beautiful and overgrown with plants and flowers, but in a good way.
We sadly don’t stay out here too long before we end up back inside. My parents don’t want to waste any more time exploring, so we head to Father Keaton’s office. When we enter, he dismisses Father Alexander and the two nuns.
My parents take their seats in the chairs before Father Keaton’s desk, and I awkwardly stand there.
“Celine, I have a chair in the corner if you’d like to pull it up.” I take him up on his offer since these heels are killing me. I drag the chair and place it next to my mother. Once I’m sitting, he begins speaking. “I hear you would like to join the church. To experience all we have to offer.”
My mother nods. “Yes.”
“And you, Mr. Monroe?”
“Yes.”
Father Keaton slides his gaze to me, and for some reason, my heart starts to race.
“Celine, would you like to join this church?”
Shit. What do I say? No, thanks, I’d rather not have to come here and listen to you spew bullshit.
Of course, I can’t say that. So to make my parents happy and hopefully get them off my back, I say, “Yes.”
“Perfect!” he chirps, opening a drawer on the side of his desk. “I just need some signatures; it’s our standard procedure for all new guests.”
I nod again and take the clipboard he hands me. Did we have to do this at the church my parents go to? My eyes strain as I stare down at the tiny words printed on the paper. “What does this all say?”
“It is an agreement that when you are in the convent, you respect our rules and bring no damage to our building,” he explains.
“We have had a lot of people come in here just to vandalize the place. Hence why we redid the chapel.” Twisting my lips, I drop my eyes back down to the paper and sign my name without reading the fine print.
Handing it back to him, he takes it with a smile.
“Mr. and Mrs. Monroe, you wanted to discuss a… donation?”
“Yes,” my mother says. “Celine, sweetie, why don’t you wait outside for us in the hall? I don’t want to bore you with all this talk.”
Almost immediately, I stand from my chair and leave the office. I take a deep breath in and exhale out while I head back to the lobby.
I step outside and lean against the stone building. Closing my eyes, I let the sun beat down on my face and let my mind run wild with the way I’m going to tell my parents that this is it. This was the last time I showed up at a church for them. I can’t do it anymore.
Throughout my entire life, I’ve had to deal with it, and even though the past few years have been great, I still found myself going to church with them on some Sundays. I would have told them no a long time ago, but my mother really knows how to lay on the guilt.
No more.
I need to worry about my own sanity, rather than my mother’s. It’s time to finally take a stand. Let’s hope it doesn’t blow up in my face.