The New Beginning: Nunsignor Book I

Jude's First Home

"Excuse me, Miss?" One of the nuns in the orphanage stopped the aspiring journalist who was climbing the stairs upto the administrator of St.Ursula.

"Yes?" Lana turned to face the nun who visually looked slightly older than Jude as she had a pale skin color, thin full lips, slightly shorter than Lana as her chestnut hair strands were barely covered by her wimple.

"What are you upto here?" The elder nun noted something leery behind the almost middle aged woman who rushed to speak to the administrator as soon as possible so that to escort her biological son to her home in New York where's exactly their home. Her stern voice didn't bring apprehension to Ms.Winters at all. She was rather staunch to her own instincts and principles.

"I am here to speak to the administrator of this institution." She responded wisely.

"Oh, alright." This nun was suspicious and arcane in the same time. She was far inquisitve as she wanted to find out why Lana was in St.Ursula, however, she didn't want to intrude her with more exasperating and exhausting questions anymore, subsequently letting her to pass.

Once Lana climbed each stair, she walked in the long, noisy corridors of the orphan, hearing children's screams and shouts, crying, laughing and so forth. Nuns who supervised some orphans, yelling at them for misbehaving. Her stilettos clicked hasty as they produced more uproar in the hall, mingling with nuns and children's voices.

As soon as she eyed by passing the doors, reading the door's label "Administrator's office", she halted in front of as she fixed her hair, breathing nervously as she tapped lightly on the wooden door a few times, awaiting for response. Until a feminine voice called "Yes?".

Afterwards the young lady's hand moved down to the doorknob as her palm, forefinger and thumb met with the cool steel, thereafter pressing it as she opened the door as she closed the door behind, her uneasy chocolate eyes eyed seventy-five years old nun with ample of experience in the church. She sat on her wooden desk as she wore her archaic round eyeglasses on her nose, aiding her eyes as they were being ensured with greater optical vision of the things encompassing her.

She was known as Sister Ségoléne Claire. She ran St.Ursula for thirty straight years. Moreover, she was known as the Iron lady of the facility with French and Swiss roots as she emigrated from France in the USA. Sister Ségoléne used to have a tempestuous love life as a divorced woman with two children, who are peculiarly already grown up and living on their own. Not only a divorced woman, but also a woman, serving to God as a part of his almighty, hallowed army.

"Good day to you, Sister!"

"Good day to you, Miss Winters!" Lana was amused as this nun knew her name from somewhere. Ségoléne Claire greeted her warmly as she fixed her eyeglasses with her forefinger and thumb, casting a stringent look on the younger woman, gesturing her to take a seat. "You may have a seat."

"Thank you!" The juvenile reporter expressed her gratitude as she sat down on the soft leather mocha ottoman, crossing her legs as she wanted to acknowledge the nun's name. "Sister, may I ask you what's your name?" She asked awkwardly as she bit her bottom lip as her chocolate eyes met her sapphire blue eyes.

"Oh, dear child! I am Sister Ségoléne Claire. I run this facility as you may know." Lana offered her a genuine, sweet smile across her lips though Ségoléne didn't smile back as she furthered cold-bloodedly. "I think I know you from somewhere, Ms.Winters. Are you actually an author, besides a journalist?"

"Yes, I wrote the book Maniac." She stated gravely as she kept on with her smile that lit up her youthful, fresh face. "I am actually here for one thing."

"Oh and what it could be?"

"It's about adopting one child who I actually..." She paused as she exhaled sharply, unable to accept the severe heartache she experienced every time whenever she talks about her biological son Johnny. "...gave him for an adoption almost four years ago."

The stern nun carried on to listen particularly attentivelly the much younger lady as her ears sharepened abruptly.

"But unfortunately something urged me to come back for my son whose name is Johnny. I want to adopt him and bring him back in home today and right now."

In the interim, an intense silence intervened in the atmosphere as Lana stared the elder nun with a studious face, studying her actions, body language and manners. It somewhat reminded her of her old friend, who used to wear proudly the clerical title Sister Jude.

"Hmmm! I think you should sign some documents and show me this child's birth certificate if you have got." Segolene insisted.

***

After the couple mourned enough over Jude's deceased mother, then they rose bodies as Timothy took Jude in his secure, affectionate arms, encircling her with arms around her shoulders as she dangled hers around his neck. In the interim, Ellie and Tristan stood in silence as they watched their parents, smiling gently, sweetly as they admired their passionate, potent bond along.

"It's unbelievable she isn't no longer with us for 40 years." She sniffed and sobbed on his shoulder as she buried her face in his underarm, her delicate nose slightly tickling his jacket's fabric. Meanwhile, Timothy's hand managed to rub her back to soothe her easily.

"I know, sweetheart!" He said in velvety voice as his warm breath mildly teased her nape of her neck's skin. "It's okay." He proceed shortly after they broke off the hug as Agnes was with her siblings.

Thereafter Jude took her rucksack out of her back to unzip one of the pockets, looking for the key to her first home. In the meantime, Timothy gazed with scrutiny eyes the old house. A timid, refined smile curled up in the corner of his lips as he had abundance of questions about her property after she found the key. Ellie and Agnes gaped mortified at the ancient, somewhat demolished house as it was encircled by plenty of barren trees, a small, sparkling lake.

"Is this your house where you spent your early years?" He asked as he pointed a finger at the modest house.

She nod her head as she affirmed his question as she bit her bottom lip approaching the door as the twins and Agnes crawled, following their parents as Timothy escorted his wife who grasped the key, putting it in the keyhole. 

To be continued...