She went to the post office the following day, and met with Joe for a walk in the park. She knew she wouldn't have time to go to the apartment, and she was too afraid that Mother Gregoria would notice something.

“I think she senses it, Joe,” Gabbie said with a worried frown as they listened to a group of wandering musicians and shared an ice cream. “She knows things about people, even when she doesn't really know them.” And then she looked up at him with grave concern and a mild look of terror. “Do you think someone has seen us?” They'd taken a lot of walks, and met more frequently than she should have dared, and they'd gone to the apartment. Someone could have seen them on Fifty-third Street.

“I doubt it,” Joe said calmly. He was far less worried than she was. He had a lot more freedom than she did. Priests were never as carefully watched as nuns, and had the right to go places she would never dream of. No one questioned his comings and goings. He was conscientious, responsible, and highly trusted. “I think she's just keeping an eye on her little chickens.”

“I hope so.” It was August by then, and the summer seemed to be speeding by very quickly. Soon the teaching Sisters would be back at school, the older nuns would be back from their retreats at Lake George and in the Catskills. The kitchen staff were already planning a Labor Day picnic, but all of it seemed less important to Gabbie now as she contemplated their future.

And when Labor Day finally came, she came down with a bad case of flu, and Mother Gregoria began to worry seriously about her. There was something wrong with more than just Gabbie's flesh, there was something seriously amiss with her spirit, and Mother Gregoria knew it.

Joe came to the Labor Day picnic with the other priests, as he always did, but he seemed to avoid Gabbie this time. They had discussed it the previous morning and agreed that it was wiser to stay away from each other, in case someone noticed the ease with which they talked now. There was something private and intimate about all their exchanges. And halfway through the day, Gabbie left and went back to her room. She felt too ill to eat, or even be with the others. Mother Gregoria noticed it, as did Sister Emanuel, and they discussed it quietly with each other.

“What do you suppose is wrong with her?” the Mistress of Postulants asked with genuine concern. She had never seen Gabbie like this.

“I'm not sure,” Mother Gregoria said with an unhappy expression. She had already decided to talk to her about it, and that afternoon she went to her room, and found Gabbie writing furiously in her journal. “Something new?” she asked pleasantly, as she sat on the single chair that stood in the corner of the stark room, for occasions such as this one. “Anything for me to read?”

“Not yet,” Gabriella said wanly, as she shoved the thin volume under her pillow. “I haven't had much time lately,” and then she looked at her apologetically, for more than the Mother Superior knew. “I'm sorry I left the picnic.” It had been blazing hot outside, and Gabriella had looked green by the time she left them.

“I'm worried about you,” Mother Gregoria said honestly, and Gabbie looked nervous as she answered.

“It's nothing. Just the flu. Everyone had it while you were away.” But Mother Gregoria knew that wasn't true. Only one very old nun had been ill, and that had been due to her gallbladder. No one else had been ill recently at St. Matthew's.

“Are you having doubts, my child? It happens to all of us at one time or another. Ours is not an easy life, nor an easy choice to make, not even for someone like you, who's been here seemingly forever. At some point we must all wrestle with it and come to a final decision. After you do, you will be at peace for a long time, perhaps forever.” And as she said it, she wished that Gabriella had taken greater advantage of her years in college. Perhaps she was regretting giving up a world she had never known, one which, in her childhood at least, had never been kind to her. “Don't be afraid to tell me.”

“No, Mother, I'm fine.” It was the first time she had ever lied to her, and she hated herself for it. This was rapidly becoming an untenable situation for her. She wanted to tell her she was in love with Joe, that she had to leave. As awful as it would have been, she would almost have preferred it.

“Perhaps you should take a last look at the world again, while you are still free to do it. You could get a job somewhere, and still live here, Gabriella. You know we'd allow you to do that.” It was precisely the opening she needed, and yet she knew that even that liberty would be abused if she was meeting with Joe in borrowed apartments. If she left, she had to do it honestly and cleanly.

“I don't want to do that,” she said firmly. “I love being here with my Sisters.” That much was true, she did, but now she loved Joe more, that was the problem. And he still had a final decision to make about the priesthood. They both had to be sure. She was, and he said he wanted to leave, but so far he had offered no clear plan as to how he was going to do it. It was still too soon for him, no matter how much he said he loved her, and she knew that. It had only been two months since it all began between them.

But the next weeks rapidly became a nightmare for her. She did errands whenever she could, but Mother Gregoria was so worried about her that most of the time she wouldn't let Gabbie do them. She and Joe still met in the spare room, and in the confessional, but most of the time they were together now was spent discussing their plans, and his obvious guilt at leaving the priesthood. She kept telling him to take his time about his decision. She never wanted him to regret it, once he did it. And they had only been able to meet two more times in the borrowed apartment. His friend was back in town by then, but Joe was still able to use it while his friend was at the office.

And to make matters worse, by mid-September Gabbie was feeling deathly ill much of the time. She tried to conceal it from the others, but everyone noticed how pale she was, how little she ate, and there was real panic when she fainted in church once. Joe had been there, he'd been saying Mass, and he looked up sharply when he saw the stir in the row of postulants, and then nearly panicked when he saw her carried outside. He had to wait a full day before he could meet her in the confessional and ask her what had happened.

“I don't know, it was just very hot in church yesterday.” They had been having an endless heat wave, but as he pointed out to her with anguish in his eyes, none of the other nuns had fainted, not even the old ones. He was desperately worried about her.

She waited another two weeks to be sure. It was the end of September by then, and there was no doubt in her mind, although she had no scientific way to confirm it. But she was sure anyway. She had all the signs, and inexperienced as she was, she was still able to figure out that she was pregnant. Finally she managed to leave the convent and she called Joe to meet her at the apartment. They met in the apartment that afternoon, and he knew there was something wrong as soon as he saw her. But when she told him, Joe looked terrified, and he held her in his arms and cried. He felt terrible about it. In his eyes, it was no way to start a marriage. And it was certainly going to force their hand very quickly. From all she could determine, she must have gotten pregnant the first time, and she was now nearly two months’ pregnant. She couldn't wait much longer to make her own decision. And whatever he did now, she had to leave the convent. She wouldn't do anything to jeopardize the baby, and he didn't expect it. In fact, he would have done anything to stop her. They both had deep religious feelings on the subject.

“It's all right, Joe,” she said quietly, sensing his distress over it, and the enormous pressure it added to an already untenable situation. “Maybe it was meant to be this way. Maybe it's what I needed to make my decision.”

“Oh, Gabbie, I'm so sorry… it's all my fault… I never thought… but I should have.” But how could a priest even think about buying condoms? And there was certainly nothing available to her in their circumstances. They had had no choice and no options. They had been forced to take their chances. And naive as they were, it had never occurred to either of them that something like this could happen so quickly.

Now he had two people to think about, a wife, and a baby, and no way to support either of them. The prospects facing him seemed suddenly devastating, and the pressure almost beyond bearing.

“I'm going to leave St. Matthew's in a month,” Gabbie said. She had already made her decision once she realized what had happened to her. “I'll tell Mother Gregoria about it in October.” That gave him a month to figure out what he was doing. In these circumstances, it was all she could give him. She could give him longer than that, but she had to make a move herself before they all figured it out and it became the scandal of the convent.

He held her in his arms for a while that afternoon, afraid to touch her now, to damage her or the baby, and he began to cry again as he held her. “I'm so afraid to fail you in the world, Gabbie… what if I can't do it?” It was his worst fear now.

“You can do it, Joe, if you want to. We both can. You know that.” She seemed remarkably certain, given how unproven they both were.

“All I know is how much I love you,” he said, knowing that now he had not only her to think of, but their baby. He wanted to leave the church, for both of them. He wanted to be with her, and take care of her, but he still wasn't sure he could do it. ‘You're so strong, Gabbie, you don't understand. I've never known anything but the priesthood.” And she had never known anything but St. Matthew's, and a lifetime of beatings before that. And why was it that they all thought she was so strong? Her father had said the same thing to her the night before he left her. It touched a chord of memory for her now, and a deep, silent place of terror. What if Joe left too? What if he abandoned her, and their baby? The mere thought of it filled her with panic, but she didn't say a word to him as he held her. She merely clung to him silently, trying not to frighten him further.