So far I had met three of the four Stanton children. Each one a clever mix of emotions and maturity. Michael was still my favorite, perhaps since I had a crush on him. Gloria seemed rather to herself, a rebel looking for excitement in this dull town. And Pearl, my lord in heaven, needed an exorcism fast. Yet, though my interaction with Pearl was short, I could see a lot of my younger self reflected in her.

Not many people know my past. Probably since it was not a happy one to tell. I was born in Stratford, London. Orphaned as a baby, I was left on the church steps in the midst of a terrible rainstorm. The nuns took me in and raised me much to their later regret. My mother was the superior of them, Mother Henrietta, a charming old skeleton with a nose longer than her forearm. She was strict but kind and always wanted the best for me even though I found ways of disappointing her on every occasion.

I admit I was not the easiest child to control. One time I sneaked toads into church underneath my robes. During the moment of silent prayer they started croaking. Then when everyone was adequately curious I released them like a plague of Egypt. "A plague of frogs!" I screamed as the toads leapt out of the folds of my dress and under the pews. I learned that many sisters of the cloth did not enjoy animals, and having little slimy amphibians brush pass their tight pantyhose made Jesus very upset. Oh, the carnage. Nuns crawled over nuns and danced on pews, screaming for retribution and reaching out for divine salvation. "God have mercy," They hollered. "Save me, Lord!" My fun ended when I saw Mother Henrietta shake her head in disapproving silence, scoop up the toads, and toss them out the church doors. She scolded me, spanked me, and the next time I entered church, I had to sit by her side and recite my rosary on repeat for hours until blisters formed on my fingertips.

Though she was rough, Mother Henrietta was everything to me. She kept me in line. A mother to many but for me, the only mother I ever knew. One might say, I did such ornery things just to get her attention as she was so busy with helping others. I found it odd that she never referred to me as a daughter, only a sister. Sometimes I felt like I would never make her proud until one day when I became an official nun. Sadly Mother Henrietta was on her death bed and wasn't able to attend the ceremony. I went to her room gown and all, and for the first time she addressed me as her daughter. It was the happiest moment of my life. She presented me with her umbrella as a gift, her most prized possession. I remember rubbing my fingers across the carved letters and asking what they stood for.

"What does DT stand for?" I asked as Mother Henrietta reached over to hold my hand.

"It stands for a very special person. A very special man."

"Well, it must not be Jesus Christ," I said chuckling.

"No," said Henrietta smiling. "It stands for Doubting Thomas. The one person in the bible that needed to see with his own eyes the resurrected Christ. He would not believe without seeing."

"And why would that make him so special. Seems kinda like a terrible apostle to me."

"Because, Mary, I was that Doubting Thomas. I did not believe you would ever become anything worthwhile, nonetheless a nun. Now that I see you before me as living proof of that doubt, I understand how wrong I was for not believing in you. You have taught an old nun a lesson she would have never learned on her own. A lesson only a mother can learn. Don't ever doubt anything, my daughter. Believe in everything and everyone. Always."

Mother Henrietta died that afternoon with a smile on her face and a rosary on her heart. For the funeral the next morning, it started off with sunny skies, but while we stood there saying our last goodbyes, it began to rain. All the sisters got wet and ran off. I was the only one with an umbrella, and there I stayed all through the storm in dry clothes but with rain on my cheeks.

Pearl for some reason sparked memories of my spiteful youth. A time I wish I could go back to and apologize for all the pranks I pulled on my sisters. Oh how time can be cruel.

I caught myself standing there in the hall staring at Pearl's door. A wave of tiredness drifted over me and wandering over to the chair by the window I soon fell fast asleep.

I was awoken suddenly by a large hand shaking my shoulder.

"Sister Mary," whispered the gentle sound of Michael's voice. "Sister Mary, wake up. It's time for dinner."

"What! Who!" I bolted to my feet alarmed and ready to fight. Michael backed off.

"Whoa watch it there," he chuckled. "No need to swing that umbrella at me."

"How long was I asleep?"

"An hour or so," said Michael.

I rubbed my eyes and looked outside. It was pitch black except for the twinkling of a few stars and the silver moon. A car was arriving down the driveway. It's headlights flashing on the gravel.

"Looks like Uncle Giles and cousin Susan are here just in time."

Michael hastefully descended the stairs. Still groggy from the nap I carefully climbed down. By the time I reached the bottom stair, I could see a multitude of people. Many I had met earlier. I passed by the dining room. Janet was putting last minute touches on the dining table. Each napkin was beautifully folded and large bouquets of flowers burst from each corner of the room. An elaborate silver lazy susan sat as the table's centerpiece. It's trays empty waiting for food. Janet had certainly outdone herself.

Down the hall I saw Baines all dressed in his finest suit unlocking the door with Michael and Gloria nearby. Pearl leaned against a door frame next to a thin young man with a beard, whom I could only assume was the other brother and snake whisperer, Brandon. Mrs. Stanton stood by barking orders at her children, none of whom seemed to be paying much attention. Another woman was there. One I had no idea whom she may be. She was dressed in a simple white miniskirt with a flower patterned top. Amidst all Mrs. Stanton's furious yelling, Baines managed to unlock the door and a large man and a young woman stepped inside.

"Uncle Giles!" declared Mrs. Stanton opening her arms wide. "And young Susan. Nice to see you could make it."

"We almost didn't. That unruly car of mine almost had us stranded on the roads." The burly Uncle Giles lit up with joy. "Brandon, my boy! Come give your uncle a hug"

"Hello, Uncle Giles," said the thin bearded young man hesitant to embrace. "Glad you made it."

"Hey, Brandon," said Susan giving him a big hug. "I've missed you."

"Same here."

Susan and Giles then greeted everyone else. It looked like a happy family reunion. Then it was my turn.

"Uncle Giles, Susan, Brandon, Pearl, Ms. Annette," said Michael, "this is Sister Mary. She is staying with us tonight. She got left behind by her group this morning on their way to New Orleans." I curtsied. Uncle Giles walked up to me and took my hand to my lips. 

"A pleasure to meet you, Sister."

"Oh my," I said almost melting to my feet. His mustache brushed across the back of my hand. It took all the will in heaven from me to flip it around and caress his scruffy upper lip. "The pleasure is all mine," I said with a cliché giggle.

"Ew," said Pearl walking passed us to the dining room. "She is a nun, Uncle Giles."

He laughed and gave me a little wink.

"Well Pearl has the right idea," said Giles letting go of my hand. "I drove all this way. Let's eat." Together we filed into the dining room and took our seats around the table. Giles acted as a gentleman and pulled a chair out for me to sit ... next to him of course.

Mrs. Stanton sat at the head of the table leaving the opposite end empty. Perhaps to symbolize the reason for the event. Baines soon brought around opulent crystal decanters and poured each of us a series of fine refreshments. I declined taking only water instead. Next came Janet wheeling a small cart full of salads. I greedily inhaled mine before realizing everyone was silently staring at me, their salads untouched.

"Would you care to lead us in grace, Sister Mary?" asked Mrs. Stanton pretentiously. "Or is that not what nuns do before eating meals?"

"Sorry," I said spitting out an unchewed lettuce leaf and making the sign of the cross. I folded my hands and lowered my head. "Bless us, O Lord, and these, Thy gifts, which we are about to receive from Thy bounty through Christ, our Lord. Amen."

"Amen," everyone repeated followed by another sign of the cross. Supper had officially begun.

"So Sister Mary," said Giles as he dug his fork into his salad. "How ever did you come to be here tonight. It's not like my sister-in-law to graciously offer food and lodging to a stranger especially on this special occasion."

"Well, if you are to believe in fate, sir," I said, "then you might believe I came here by some divine providence."

"I found her trying to climb our fence," said Michael from across the table.

"Climbing the fence," choked Giles. "What the devil for?" I explained the situation and what happened. Everyone found it to be incredibly amusing, everyone but Mrs. Stanton. The woman remained silent. She carefully cut her meal into small portions and delicately chewed and swallowed each morsel. Her eyes followed every movement, studied every word. Perhaps the phone call from earlier had her on edge.

"And what do you do, Mr. Giles," I asked finishing my story.

"I am a psychologist. A doctor really. My work focuses on the mentally disturbed and troubled youth. I try to get them the help they need."

"Sounds like a tough business and a valiant profession."

"He is the best in New Orleans," said Susan with a smile. "Only the best treatment available."

"It is a tough job," said Giles, "but very rewarding."

"And you, Miss Susan," I said, munching on a piece of buttered toast. "Still in school I suspect?"

"Yes. Though I have a part time job as a secretary for Arceneaux and Mills."

"Law firm?"

"Yes." Susan took a sip of her drink. "My passion though is to work in medicine like my father." She gave Giles a flirtatious smirk and rubbed his hand. Giles quickly removed it.

"That's enough, Susan." Giles then turned to me. "So what about you, Sister Mary? Where are you from? What is it like being a nun?"

"I heard you were from Chicago," interrupted Brandon. "But you don't sound like it."

"Good observation," I said adjusting in my seat. "I am actually British. A world class traveller of sorts, a naive dame from across the sea. I fought many a drunken pirate, gambled in the dodgiest of hostelries, and plundered many seaside ports on my way to America. My sanctimonious exploits were legendary! Har! Har!" I shook my fist in proud triumph. Susan giggled. "Or you could call it London along the Thames. Anyway, I've moved around a lot in my years, been to many places. Nothing I would really call home. I've only lived in Chicago for a short while. Not long enough to miss it, of course."

"Far out!" said Brandon. "Explains the accent. I've always wanted to go to England. What type of snakes you people got there?"

"You know. You don't really see them often in Britain. Mainly the harmless garden ones. But to answer your question, Dr. Giles. I find the nun life to be challenging as well as rewarding. As you can see I get to visit much of the world and meet a host of interesting people. Though snakes, Mr. Brandon, I can do very much without."

"Snakes, snakes, snakes. Brandon why do you always have to bring up the topic of snakes," snapped Gloria. "They are disgusting."

"I find them to be quite fascinating though touching one is out of the question," I said smiling at Brandon. "Janet told me you had quite the collection of them in your room."

"Yes," said Brandon joyously. "I've got vipers, mambas, rattlers."

"The deadly ones," added Gloria. "Basically if one gets out we are all dead."

"It seems to me Brandon has a good head on his shoulders. I doubt he would ever let one snake loose." I turned my attention back to the young man. "Are you studying these snakes for school or is this just a hobby?"

"It's my dream to be a herpetologist in a few years," said Brandon with a glimmer in his eye. "Travel the world and see all of it's reptiles. Discover a new species."

There was a slight pause in the conversation as Janet arrived through the French doors with the second course, a small bowl of tomato and basil soup. She began swapping our plates on her rolling cart.

"Sounds thrilling," I said as I dug into my soup. "Is everyone here in school?"

"Not all of us at the moment," gawked Gloria as she made a side eye at Michael. "Some of us couldn't handle the stress."

"Engineering school is rough. I'm taking a hiatus." Michael turned away but Mrs. Stanton was quick to set him back on track.

"Your father never would have let you quit school," she said.

"Well father isn't here to make the rules anymore," mocked Michael as he clinked his spoon against his bowl and pushed his plate away.

"Don't you talk ill will of your father, boy!" said Giles. "He was a good man."

"A good man doesn't get drunk and fall off a boat and leave his family."

"That's it!" Mrs. Stanton stood from her chair. "Out of this room this instant! You are not worthy to celebrate your father's legacy."

"Mom," whined Pearl, "can you calm down? Michael didn't mean it."

"Pearl, sweetheart, the wicked have to be punished."

"Father wouldn't want us fighting," said Pearl standing up. "I am the youngest one here and I don't remember father. Yet somehow I know how father would want things on his special day. So calm down, both of you, and have a civil family dinner for once."

Mrs. Stanton slowly sat down, and Michael dropped his head. The two said nothing more. I turned to Pearl and winked. She rolled her eyes. I admit I was starting to like her attitude.

Janet and Baines soon entered with the next dish, poppy seed chicken casserole and green beans. Everyone seemed tense from yelling so I decided to make a little light-hearted joke.

"Ah, poppy seed chicken," I said as the food touched my tongue. "Mmm. So good. You know what this dish reminds me of?" I started giggling. "It reminds me of the time when a nun prayed so hard she brought the poppy seed chicken back to life."

"No way," said Pearl. "You're bluffing. No one can bring a dead chicken to life."

"You're certainly correct," I said pausing for the punchline. "It's complete and utter... poppycock."