had.” She looked around embarrassed. “Sister Nicolette is going to bring my clothes and the rest of my things tonight.”
“Sheesh…Jane-MARTIER, if you need time to get things straightened out-”
“I don’t need to straighten anything out. Sister Louise said that St. Bartholoma wasn’t healthy for me anymore and she was right. I have to sneak and read a book of poetry? Tim, even with headphones I have to listen to the CD with the volume turned down low so that no one will hear the African drums. I can’t wear my jewelry! I’m not allowed to speak my mother tongue…and they don’t want me to remember because as long as I don’t I’m less trouble!” She came to her feet with fire in her eyes.
“They can go to hell!” She hurried into Tim’s bathroom and slammed the door. When she slowly opened it a few minutes later she had splashed her face and she wore a look of shame.
Tim was holding the blue mug filled with coffee. He thrust it to her, his face was red. “Drink this.”
“Okay.” She took a sip. “I’m sorry for…the way I acted.”
He looked uncomfortable. “Why are you apologizing? It wasn’t your fault.” He sighed. “Are you ready to start the day?”
She nodded enthusiastically. “Well you still don’t have your computer. You’ll work in my office again. I want you to contact human resources and let them know to update your name on all documents.”
“I already did that.”
“Good…Martier. And incidentally…that’s a pretty name.” His face warmed as she whispered her thanks.
The morning moved swiftly. Tim wasn’t so busy and was able to teach her to do things the way he liked them done. It wasn’t as uncomfortable as he would have thought; having her in his inner sanctum. His music played softly, and the sound of her steady typing lent a calming backdrop. He had a meeting with the partners and as he left the office and headed to the conference room, he thought about all of the things that had just so recently happened. He thought about her professionalism, her shyness, her recent rage and the way that she had laughed just last night. Lastly he considered the light in her eyes that had dimmed.
She; Martier, was like a landslide. If he still had a wife to go home to, she would say to him, ‘Tim what are you going to do about this girl?’ And he came to a decision.
“Help her, I guess.”
~***~
Martier had no intentions of telling Dhakiya. Her friend still resented Sister Nicolette for slapping her all those years ago. And Sister Nicolette felt the same way. She was actually shocked that of all the nuns that lived on their own it would be Nicolette that would offer to put her up. Though, there were rumors that some led private lives that could never be disclosed to the public, so maybe she shouldn’t be surprised, just thankful that she didn’t have to go running to Dhakiya.
And she had no doubt that her best friend would gladly give her a place to stay, especially in an emergency. The problem wasn’t Dhakiya, but Rodney. There was only one bedroom. She could never share a home with a man; especially one that made her pulse race, and more importantly if that man belonged to the only friend she had in the world. It might be as long as a month before she had the money for a deposit and first month rent. Staying there that long would be unimaginable for a girl that had never even touched a man, let alone lived with one.
She set the phones to forward to voicemail and then she went down to the canteen and grabbed a bag of chips and a soda from the vending machine. She saw Claudette and her friends and joined them. They greeted her enthusiastically.
“And where is your lunch, young lady?” Claudette chided when she saw Martier just munching chips.
“I’m not really hungry.” She said. Actually she only had $21 and wanted to make sure she could stretch it until Friday; payday. Sister
“Sheesh…Jane-MARTIER, if you need time to get things straightened out-”
“I don’t need to straighten anything out. Sister Louise said that St. Bartholoma wasn’t healthy for me anymore and she was right. I have to sneak and read a book of poetry? Tim, even with headphones I have to listen to the CD with the volume turned down low so that no one will hear the African drums. I can’t wear my jewelry! I’m not allowed to speak my mother tongue…and they don’t want me to remember because as long as I don’t I’m less trouble!” She came to her feet with fire in her eyes.
“They can go to hell!” She hurried into Tim’s bathroom and slammed the door. When she slowly opened it a few minutes later she had splashed her face and she wore a look of shame.
Tim was holding the blue mug filled with coffee. He thrust it to her, his face was red. “Drink this.”
“Okay.” She took a sip. “I’m sorry for…the way I acted.”
He looked uncomfortable. “Why are you apologizing? It wasn’t your fault.” He sighed. “Are you ready to start the day?”
She nodded enthusiastically. “Well you still don’t have your computer. You’ll work in my office again. I want you to contact human resources and let them know to update your name on all documents.”
“I already did that.”
“Good…Martier. And incidentally…that’s a pretty name.” His face warmed as she whispered her thanks.
The morning moved swiftly. Tim wasn’t so busy and was able to teach her to do things the way he liked them done. It wasn’t as uncomfortable as he would have thought; having her in his inner sanctum. His music played softly, and the sound of her steady typing lent a calming backdrop. He had a meeting with the partners and as he left the office and headed to the conference room, he thought about all of the things that had just so recently happened. He thought about her professionalism, her shyness, her recent rage and the way that she had laughed just last night. Lastly he considered the light in her eyes that had dimmed.
She; Martier, was like a landslide. If he still had a wife to go home to, she would say to him, ‘Tim what are you going to do about this girl?’ And he came to a decision.
“Help her, I guess.”
~***~
Martier had no intentions of telling Dhakiya. Her friend still resented Sister Nicolette for slapping her all those years ago. And Sister Nicolette felt the same way. She was actually shocked that of all the nuns that lived on their own it would be Nicolette that would offer to put her up. Though, there were rumors that some led private lives that could never be disclosed to the public, so maybe she shouldn’t be surprised, just thankful that she didn’t have to go running to Dhakiya.
And she had no doubt that her best friend would gladly give her a place to stay, especially in an emergency. The problem wasn’t Dhakiya, but Rodney. There was only one bedroom. She could never share a home with a man; especially one that made her pulse race, and more importantly if that man belonged to the only friend she had in the world. It might be as long as a month before she had the money for a deposit and first month rent. Staying there that long would be unimaginable for a girl that had never even touched a man, let alone lived with one.
She set the phones to forward to voicemail and then she went down to the canteen and grabbed a bag of chips and a soda from the vending machine. She saw Claudette and her friends and joined them. They greeted her enthusiastically.
“And where is your lunch, young lady?” Claudette chided when she saw Martier just munching chips.
“I’m not really hungry.” She said. Actually she only had $21 and wanted to make sure she could stretch it until Friday; payday. Sister
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