--- Later That Day ---

As the nun put down to sleep the girls, distributing them by their age in the room and having a frugal dinner, shortly after she recited the night prayer and crawling in the bed after stripping each ecclesiastical attire as it peeled off her creamy, milky as vanilla skin as snake. Leaving her almost stark as a newborn, dressed up in her sinful bloody red negligee. The bloody red satin negligee as a piece of garment which she deemed as a remarkable, memorable fragment of her past, incarnating her past life as a mere, unholy and depended on the fiery impulses woman. Not as a saint.

As soon as she allowed her muscles relax by fluttering shut her eyelids, Timothy's words as imprinted memories, echoed inwardly, giving her hopes for the imminent day especially their first real date even if it was against the church. Against took solemn vows. Against God. Against anything sacred. Against her career.

Her shut eyelids as shells tinted more vibrant tinges as if she beheld the scintillating frame of Timothy hours ago, reuniting together as he wore the same clerical garments, considering him the same holy man. In her eyes, he's going to be always the same man, whom she yearned for ages, despite the solemnly took vows and most of all, devoting himself to the church and its holy duties, including every inch of his is already God's possession.

The scarcely kipping blonde could hear yet her love interest's inner voices, whispering in the limbo as the velvety, British accent gapped the silence and sending chills all over her already relaxed muscles, incapable of letting her calf quiver at the thought of his invitation on the first date.

What the heck crossed his mind to invite a nun on a date? Even more, if that's his purpose, hence, he left the church and Briarcliff and to break me some news? Did he truly miss me?

By judging the ocean of questions, engulfing them in the profound hole, still seeking answers, throughout she found the answer of the final question.

By the way he behaved and his words sounded, subsequently the middle-aged woman could tell the younger man alluded she wasn't being forgotten by him and at last but not least, the incessant thought of her, corrupting his cells with brooding over his rara avis's absence, which was the crucial reason why his smile froze.

Little did the holy woman know what kind of surprises are awaiting her on the private cafeteria's date, besides at the thought of the first date especially being an emphatic idea of the former man of the cloth, who couldn't be seen in another light than just as the compassionate, pious priest, pursuing his celestial, golden, blinding dreams. Celestial dreams which fewer people might follow them to the end and being appointed as a Cardinal, afterwards Pope and set a foot on the aisle in Rome, was nothing than just unthinkable reality, or rather only in her dreams. The sacred territory of his exalted reputation, where he's lastly being encompassed by swarm of nuns and priests, bowing before him and addressing him in revered manner, expressing their immense respect for him.

In addition to, the nun had an old, lacquered from a handful of years ago wardrobe as its double doors were opened, storing up the hanging variety of garments which were either brought with her and she possessed them, or on the contrary, the church has ensured her since the middle-aged lady gave up the mere life, consequently limiting herself and escaping the cruel reality of the heartbreaks, lust, love, sex, marriage, lovers, alcohol and everything sinful and ordinary. Marrying herself reckoning her body to God and his mammoth, hallowed hands, encircling each once touched, rubbed slim, perfectly shaped in swam shape curve of her petite figure.

The garments were a pair of sheerly angelic, white, cotton night gown, ankle length, mingling with one more rigid, shapeless, wool dark habit until two casual in black and deep green dresses, numbering the last one the ravishing red one in the right side variated as colors from the rainbow, contrasting each other due to the image and impression they were giving as soon as they cohering certain inches of the milky flesh.

--- The Next Day ---

In the wee hours of morning as they dawned, whilst the pale blue lights dazzled the living surroundings' orbs, the nuns got up and had a breakfast with the children in the dining room after releasing them from their specified rooms, separating them by judging their ages.

In the meanwhile, Angelica and Yoanna seated alongside their favorite nun as she was between them, accompanying her as they were masticating scrambled eggs with cheese.

The grand window in the room allowed the dim sun light assault the room, thus bathing it in light, illuminating naturally everything.

As the member of the church pronged some cheese, thereafter munching it within a quarter a minute, she left her silver fork, contemplating glassily the window in the corner of her fresh, pensive honey brown pools, nibbling on the silky skin of her bottom, plumpish mauve lip at the thought of her first date with the former Monsignor, overwhelming her train of thoughts with swamp of questions.

First and foremost, what she might wear to their first date in the private cafeteria and what kind of an impression she might make with her looks out of her clerical, tiresome attires, covering her skin? Second, is the impression is going to be an unholy one and enthralling for the British aristocrat? Whether yes or no, is the younger man going to change significantly his opinion about his rare bird, beholding her in much different light than he'd think he has seen through the years? At last but not least, how the date in the private cafeteria is going to pass and what kind of a dialogue they will develop through the elapsing time?

"Nana!" The brunette snapped Judy out of her train of thoughts abruptly as she glimpsed hesitantly back at the young girls, meeting her stare as her heart raced promptly as the heart beats pulsated severely into her ears, interweaving with the childish, girlish voice.

"Uh! I'm so sorry, sweetie! Just Nana is bewildered at moments." The former promiscuous jazz nightclub singer lied, attempting to find a bamboozling excuse to not being caught as her goose is being cooked once the both little girls slyly find out why their favorite nun is being pensive and leery this morning.

"Is everything okay?" The black-haired orphan posed the question with immense inquisitiveness, vomited in her question.

"Yeah, yeah!" Meanwhile, the middle-aged lady was fixing absently her wimple, keeping her austere looks to resurface on her petite figure instead the disheveled as if she was a mere woman. "Everything is fine. Just sometimes I'm so absent-minded or thinking way too much about some stuff."

"Over what?" The both orphans enquired in unison after munching some scrambled eggs and cheese, lingering on their teeth and tongues.

"It's for adults as I'm going to see an old friend and colleague of mine tonight." Joyous, sarcastic chuckle left her lips. "Nobody from these kiddos isn't supposed to know where Nana is going tonight, okay?" Meantime, Angelica and Yoanna bobbed their heads, affirming the woman of the cloth's words, thrumming inwardly. "It's just our wee secret, Angie and Yoanna!" She kept on with her utterance, leaning past Yoanna's ear as the whisper lingered on her tongue.

--- Later That Day ---

The hours elapsed as swiftly as a vague summer breeze, playing and blowing lightly every surrounding object and living one.

After the afternoon prayer, the member of the clergy told the nuns she's going to be absent tonight, in order to meet an old colleague of hers without being more specific and detailed about the location and so forth.

As the middle-aged was sitting on the wooden, old chair, grasping a pocket mirror, checking her zoomed reflection of her lips as she was applying the mauve lipstick, painting her upper and bottom plump lips in darker, howsoever, less provocative and extravagant color. In this moment, her slender, nonetheless ageless, still drop-dead gorgeous body was meandered in ebon black dress, ankle length with boat neckline and middle sleeves, sleeving her slim biceps as its sleeves peaked to her elbows as if snakes were clothing the creamy as satin flesh underneath serpent's skin.

Her petite feet were shielded in black, classy, old pair of stilettos which were extant up to nowadays with lacking signs of down-at-heel and losing its own valuable quality which was more than flabbergasting for the blonde. It has been a long, long time ago when she has put them on her feet, making her to feel like a real woman and sensing the classiness and grace inked all over her frame. Feeling the old Hollywood aura encompassing her as a halo ringlet, belting her. Glimmering from her head with the lion mane of glossy old Hollywood honey tresses up to her tiny, elegant feet, shoed in stilettos. In the interim, her halo ringlet of silky old Hollywood aureate curls descended her upper back, framing ideally her eerily aeonian, hardly wrinkled due to the aging process, porcelain complexion as the natural beauty looked better on her with barely any marks of make-up.

As soon as she finished with applying the mauve lipstick, she pursed her lips for a split second until gingerly popping them up, subsequently allowing the mauve nuance spread all over her rosy-coloured lips, smearing them.

Thereafter she sprayed her old, nonetheless memorable rosy perfume on her neck, bosom, hair and wrists as she gathered the perfume in her obsidian purse along with the lipstick, compact pocket mirror, her car keys, in case, besides the remaining money which were no more than 50 dollars.

Once Judy was already prepared for the first date in the private cafeteria, she checked her double herself, reflexed on the round, tall mirror once again, making sure she was neat and elegant. The old Judy Martin's revivification was already a fact again. No longer dressed up or rather disguised as the godly sister of the Roman Catholic church as its holy attires conceal every fragment of her grim past and its inescapable, pitch-black darkness.

Shortly after she opened her dorm's creaky, wooden door after taking with herself her comfy coat and purse, subsequently the holy woman glanced at the both halls' directions, making sure its empty and nobody doesn't get her in trouble. The hallways were as abysmal, however, empty as barrens.

In a matter of handful of minutes in tiptoeing and discreetly leaving outside the grand façade, imposing the grand massive stairs, she was met with a masculine, much taller figure, standing in front of his black cab, parked on the motorway. It was Timothy Howard. He looked far from the man of the cloth she has always known him.

When the older woman approached her love interest, she couldn't help but offer him a sympathetic, calm smile, cradling her mauve lips.

"Good evening, rare bird!" In the meantime, the British aristocrat greeted her warmly, returning the smile with a benevolent, sheepish, distorted across his naturally berry-coloured, luscious lips. At the moment, the both lovers' hearts leaped in anticipation as they longed their genuine first date to be too true especially for Judy.

"Good evening, Timothy! It's unbelievable by the way ya look!" She was beyond mesmerized she was met with her favorite former Monsignor being dressed in a formal white shirt, charcoal blazer, navy blue slacks and black oxfords after scanning his outfit in the corner of her hazelish-brown iris, fueled with childish, humongous curiosity what's the backstory behind his outfit and why he's dressed up like this unlike in his Monsignor's daily one.

"I owe you an explaination about this one." Timothy assured her, patting affably, lightly her shoulder as she couldn't repress demure, bashful giggle, quivering her oral caverns. "Just get in the car." He carried on with his exclaimation, persuading her to enter in the vehicle as he opened the door specially for her, holding it for her. "Ladies, first!"

"Thanks!" Judy released a hoarse, girlish chuckle as she seated alongside the driver, whereas he slammed the car door and got inside the vehicle from the other side. In the interval, the holy woman was beyond dumbfounded by her love interest's demeanor especially tonight. He has never opened to her which she found it for cute at least or that was just her conscious.

--- Later That Night ---

"When the deep purple falls over sleepy garden walls and the stars begin to twinkle in the night in the mist of a memory! You wander all back to me! Breathing my name with a sigh!" Nino Tempo and April Steven's recent song was playing inside the cafeteria's background as their eloquent voices accentuated on the lyrics, rendering the atmosphere more inviting.

"How like that ya resigned from the church? Is that some kind of a joke for tonight?" After munching some lettuce as she has ordered for herself green salad, mineral water and cherry cheesecake, Timothy has ordered for himself white wine, sea salad with raspberries, embellishing its scrumptious salad, she choked after he confessed the younger man is no longer part of the church. It has been a quarter an hour since they were sitting inside the restaurant after they have ordered themselves what they exactly wanted and most of all, their orders were served within a few minutes only. "The fools' day isn't approaching too soon yet and ya are talking about yar resignation from the church."

"Jude, I'm absolutely honest here! I've decided to resign from the church by taking my life in other direction and come back for you," In the meantime, the former devotional member of the church earned her piercing, inquiring gape, casted on him directly as a piercing, envenomous arrow, aimed at its target, throughout marking a bullseye.

"What yar resignation from the church has to do with yar return especially our reunion?" All of a sudden, she cut him off curtly in his mid-sentence as it abided unfinished, scratching in distressed manner her scalp with her fingertips of her solely free hand at the moment. "It's November, Timothy! It's not April!"

"As your birthday approaches extremely soon, every day might sound like a joke to you, however, I'm honest here. I want to change everything for better." In the meanwhile, he sipped of his glass of fresh, lukewarm white wine as its sinful, sweet alcoholic liquor tickled his tongue, thus staining his mouth with its wine flavor, without averting his gaze from her. "My resignation speaks volumes. They can change your mind as soon as possible as it's up to you along with our reunion."

"Well, well, well, if you say ya aren't my favorite Monsignor, then yar rare bird would like to know what happened with Mary Eunice?"

"Oh, it's a long story, Jude!" Suddenly his heart ached at the thought of the recently passed away once pure and blameless sister of the church, whose childish, inevitable purity was robbed and most of all, damned by its Satan as soon as the vileness found its new home after the exorcism. Moreover, Timothy chewed his damp lip as he wiped his clammy palm of his hand in his pant's knee cap nervously. He took a deep breath, seconds before starting with the dramatic, heartbreaking monologue to break the news for his right hand, in order to keep her wits about her once favorite protégé. "Unfortunately, you don't want to even hear it, rare bird! Believe me!"

"Just spill the tea, Timothy! I just want you to spit it out." All the blonde hankered more than anything was to acknowledge her daughter model's condition.

Seconds before commencing with the monologue, consequently crinkled his temple after sipping his alcoholic beverage, rolling his chocolate brown irises as they were filled with immense ounce, interweaving with the stress and concern, oozing from her piercing gaze, goggled at her love interest.

"Well, you were indeed right about her! She had something suspicious, commanding her muscles, conscious and mind as I faced the evil by myself." As his speech escalated, the tension built its own cemented barriers, guarding its stress. "She tried to trap me in her trap and luckily, the security guards as they heard my roar, dragged her off me and she was strapped on bed until the morning after as I called Father Malachi and Dr. Clarkson to deal with the fiendish fragment of her body until she fainted and passed away, as a result of her heart which couldn't keep its steady rhythm." In the interim, the middle-aged lady was all ears, attentively listening to the love of her life's words as it rang leery, unwelcoming tunes into her sensitive, petite ears.

"In the still of the night! Once again I hold you tight! Tho' you're gone your love lives on when light beams and as long as my heart will beat
Sweet lover, we'll always meet! Here in my deep purple dreams!"

"W-What? Is she dead?" She held her throat, leaving the silver fork in the plate as the blonde verged to vomit, nauseating at the morbid thought of her once favorite innocent nun to pass away. Her adroit, slim fingers wrapped around the crook of her neck as she squinted her eyelids in slits of fresh scars, tattooed on the skin.

"She's already dead!" In this moment, the nun couldn't help but slump from the chair as her senseless body hit heavily the carpeted ground, shutting reluctantly her eyelids as they were shaped in crescent form. Obnoxiously monstrous panic blanched Timothy's youthful, concerned face as soon as he witnessed one of the most unexpected moments. His rare bird fainting as soon as he announced the heartbreaking news about Mary Eunice's death a week ago. Furthermore, the unconscious holy woman earned the horde of clients', reckoning the waiters' anxious looks, inked on their complexions. Timothy's heart sunk. No response. No action. They weren't the alternative responses of the sister of the church, who was listening attentively the former Monsignor's utterance.