"For I Have Sinned" Chapter 1

Chapter 1

“I can’t believe I’m late for my first meeting.” I panted like a dog on a hot summer day as we hustled down the hallway. My Miraculous Medal bounced on my chest as I rushed behind Mother Superior who was power walking toward the gym. A small wisp of scarlet hair flew across my face, sticking to my raspberry-scented lip balm. I tucked the stray strand behind my ear and I fought to keep up with the elderly nun’s quick pace.

Mother Superior grinned at me over her shoulder. Her warm smile surprised me a little. My previous two Mothers Superior had been the pre-Vatican II type nuns—strict, rigid, and always frowning like they had something smelly under their nose. Even though it was no longer necessary, they still chose to wear the old habits, starched black and white robes that made them look like pissed-off penguins.

No, this Mother Superior radiated warmth and kindness. Almost like a real mother, even though she was much closer in age to my grandmother. And her energy at the moment put me to shame.

My kitten heels clacked on the floor as I jogged to keep pace with her.

“It’s alright, Sister Claire. These meetings always start late.” Her wispy voice echoed through the hallway like a flute. She stopped and pointed. “Now, just go down here and make a left. The doors at the end lead to the gym.”

“Thank you, Mother Superior.” I waved over my shoulder while I hustled down the hallway to my first parent-teacher association meeting. Oh, PTA meetings—one of the joys of being a teacher.

My heels clicked louder as I walked down the empty corridor. My knee-length skirt swished around my knees as I jogged.

I stopped just in front of the metal doors and prayed a silent Hail Mary. My palms pressed against the cold metal bar and I opened the door to my first PTA meeting.

And people say parents aren’t involved in their kid’s education nowadays. Obviously, those people never met Catholic parents.

The sea of adults covered the room, dozens and dozens of them. They milled around, some alone, others with their spouses, chatting and sipping bottled iced tea. I slinked along the edge of the wall, looking for an open chair, but even the teachers’ table was packed. Big turn out tonight.

And I get to stand up and introduce myself as a new teacher in a crowded room. \

Lucky me.

Glancing around, I seemed to be one of the youngest people here. Inexperienced. Naive.

Double lucky me.

“Excuse me, miss? Would you like my seat?” A deep voice rumbled behind me and sent a shiver of nerves racing up my spine. I turned and nearly slammed into the hard chest of a man who stood a head taller than me.

His icy blue eyes twinkled like gym lights, like sunlight glittering off a clear pond. His salt and pepper hair and beard were neatly groomed, framing a straight Roman nose and high cheekbones. He wore khaki slacks and a polo shirt like a cookie-cutter suburban dad.

All that was missing was the blonde waif of a wife and two kids running around him. He’d be a perfect cover model for L.L.Bean. He even smelled good, like whiskey and cinnamon and something I wasn’t familiar with. Something just…

Then a small, flickering light grabbed my attention. His wedding ring glimmered in the lights.

And here I was gawking at him. Nuns shouldn’t gawk at men in the first place, let alone married men.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” I blurted out. “No, thank you.”

“That’s alright.” His warm smile contrasted with his icy blue eyes that seemed to stare at me with some bizarre curiosity.

It felt unholy.

Everything about him was calm and polite but those eyes. His gaze felt sinful, and I welcomed it. A flutter in my belly wouldn’t quiet down.

It must be stage fright. Maybe I was more nervous about my introduction to the parents than I realized. That must be why my stomach was suddenly twisting in somersaults.

“I don’t think I’ve seen you in these meetings before. You must be a kindergarten mom,” he noted.

I shook my head. “Oh, I’m not…”

“Can everyone please be seated?” Sister Margaret’s voice boomed over the microphone. She tapped on it with her long nails, the sharp rapping echoing around the room. “Can everyone hear me?”

A soft chorus of “yes” filled the gym.

“Thank you, but I have to go. Excuse me.” I smiled at the stranger and disappeared into the crowd without a backward glance. I fought the urge to peek over my shoulder to see if he was watching me and instead kept my eyes glued to Sister Margaret standing in front.

Left foot. Right foot. Keep looking straight. Left foot. Right foot. Don’t turn around.

“Thank you all for coming. As many of you know, I am Sister Margaret, the principal here at St. George’s.” A soft round of applause followed.

I leaned against a wall on the side of the stage as I watched Sister Margaret drone on and on about the upcoming school year. The additions to the gym. The renovated library. And finally, the new teachers. I bounced on the edges of my feet, waiting for Sister Margaret to announce my name. Mrs. Ellen Potter introduced herself as one of the new sixth-grade teachers before handing the microphone to me.

“Hi, everyone. It’s nice to meet you all. I’m Sister Claire,” I said. “I’m the new music teacher here at St. George’s.”

“Freebird,” someone in the crowd shouted to some laughter and some shushing.

“Sorry, I don’t have my guitar with me.” Some more laughter. “I’ll be around if anyone has any questions about the middle school music curriculum. I’m really excited to meet you all and to be working with your children this year.”

I handed the microphone back to Sister Margaret and stepped aside, making my way towards the refreshments table at the end of the gym. Suddenly my nerves kicked in, and my throat felt like sandpaper. Meeting new people made me nervous.

“Thirsty?” That deep voice sounded next to my ear, ringing like a church bell.

I turned and he handed me a cup of lukewarm iced tea. “So, Sister Claire? And here I thought you were a parent.” His smile made my belly flip over again.

“Oh, no. I’m a Sister of the Little Heart,” I said, using my full title like it was some sort of shield. But what was I protecting myself from?

His smile shifted to a teasing smirk that made my lower belly tug hungrily.

That’s what I needed protection from. His damn smirk.

“Well, I’m sure I’ll be seeing you around the school then,” he said.

“Oh, are you one of the parent volunteers?” My voice brightened in spite of myself.

“No. I’m one of the eighth-grade teachers. Mr. Masterman. David Masterman.” He offered me his hand to shake and I simply stared.

It hovered, waiting for my response. I reached out with my stomach twisting and shook it Warmth spread like wildfire through my hand, and up my arm.

From a handshake.

I released him like I’d been electrocuted, but smiled nonetheless.

He lifted his glass in a toast before taking a long sip of iced tea. His wedding ring sparkled silver under the gym lights.

“So, you’re a teacher?” I asked dumbly, my face slipping into a frown.

Okay God, very funny. I didn’t want to see this man that often. Every workday often. Every day while I taught his kids. I mean, students.

Did he have kids? He seemed older, not middle-aged, but old enough to have a family. I’m sure his kids must be adorable, if he had any. He would be a total D.I.L.F.

Stop it. You’re a nun. Stop thinking about fucking someone’s dad.

I blinked, realizing that I’d been staring for a long enough time that there was no hope of recovery. I could have drowned in the awkwardness.

Blood crept up my cheeks, warming my face enough to know I probably looked as red as Rudolph’s nose.

I drained my glass of iced tea and tossed the small paper cup into the waste bin beside me. “Well, it was nice meeting you. I’ll see you around.”

“I hope to see a lot more of you, Sister Claire.” With that wicked smile and a friendly wink, he left to talk to a cluster of parents at the other end of the table.

The air stilled as if the oxygen had been sucked from the room. Oh God, I was in trouble. I glanced over at his ass, tight and firm, even in khakis. God, what was wrong with me? I’m a nun. So why was I looking at his butt?

I plastered on a fake, happy smile and tamped down the blush still sizzling on my cheeks. I strolled past a group of parents, eager to talk about their children and their accomplishments, but not too excited to have their students enrolled in a music class.

“Don’t get me wrong. I’m glad that this school supports the arts,” a young mom with a blonde bob haircut said. “But I just don’t see how they can squeeze in time for the important subjects if the students have art and music every week.”

“I agree,” said a woman with flaming red hair. “Math and science are the future of education. I don’t see the importance of letting my children finger-paint when they could be learning.”

“Exactly,” said another mom, also with a blonde bob haircut. “Timmy loves science. He goes on and on about dinosaurs and planets. How is learning to play “Hot Cross Buns” on the recorder going to help him later on in life? He’ll forget it all by the time he goes to high school anyway.”

“Not even high school,” the redhead smirked. “They’ll forget everything they learned in that class by the time summer comes. Then it’s back to square one next year. What a waste of time—”

A small knife sank into my chest as I hurried past them. These parents didn’t want me here.

I fought like a woman possessed to get this position, to help the school make this job, and I wasn’t wanted. Tears pricked at the corner of my eyes. With the weight of defeat pressing down on my shoulders, I slumped out of the gym.

“Sister Claire!” A voice echoed behind me, filling the otherwise empty corridor. I turned to see David jogging towards me. A frown hollowed his face. “What’s wrong? You looked upset back there.”

Sweet of him to notice.

“Oh, it’s nothing. I think I’m just tired. I only moved in last week, and I’ve been so busy getting ready for the school year. It’s been a bit of a rough adjustment,” I said, lying just a little bit.

Yes, the changes had been hard, but those judgmental mothers snuck under my skin like parasites. Art and music are just as important as math and science. Why bother trying to improve the world through math and science if there was no beauty, no art to make life worth living? Humans aren’t machines after all. We need art, music, and balance in our lives.

David squinted at me. I felt small, like a tiny ant that could be crushed under the wrong words. “It doesn’t seem like that’s what’s bothering you.”

I shifted my weight from one foot to the other as his stare weighed me down. “I’ll be alright. Some of the parents… As I said, it’s just going to be a rough adjustment. For them and for me I think.”

“Were some of the parents giving you a hard time?” He took a step closer to me.

I could smell leather and some sort of spicy aftershave wafting around him. God, he even smelled amazing. This distraction was not something I needed.

“I never spoke to any of the parents,” I admitted. I clasped my hands behind my back, fidgeting my fingers a little. “Some of them were talking near me, and I overheard them. They think music is a waste of time. It hurt a little to hear them tearing apart something I care about.” I could hear my voice rising a little higher, a little squeakier. “I gave up a lot to be here. I fought with my last Mother Superior to move to St. George’s. I created this teaching job out of nothing. And for what?”

“For the kids.” He smiled at me, a knowing glint in his eye.

If an anvil fell on my head, I would have been less surprised. His words hit home like a roundhouse kick to my gut. He was right. Exactly right. The children were why I’d done this. That’s why I fought to get this job. I wanted to teach music to children. I wanted to see them express themselves and learn to create. More than anything, I wanted to see them learn. As a Sister of the Little Heart, I couldn’t have any children of my own.

David’s words were like a gulp of cool water, refreshing and rejuvenating. A sense of purpose pumped through my veins.

“You’re right,” I said.

I was sure I looked like a hot mess. My eyes were still scratchy and probably bright red. My pale pink lip balm must have been smudged from that glass of iced tea, and now I was smiling like a fool in front of this sexy man— Wait, did I just use the word sexy?

God, I needed to go to confession this week. My thoughts were horrible tonight. Dirty. Sinful.

“Of course I’m right,” David smiled. “And can I leave you with one piece of advice? Never let them see you sweat.” He winked before walking away with his tight ass and khakis and leather-scented self. Ugh, I could so go to hell for the thoughts this man was giving me.

I turned and walked alone down the hallway towards the convent. I needed a cold shower and a long night’s sleep. Tomorrow was the first day of classes. My own personal doomsday.

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