Mary Clark: The Shadow of Your Smile

“Of course,” Monsignor Kelly said.

His voice firm and sure, under sacred oath, with quiet intensity Ryan testified that as a neurosurgeon he could find no medical explanation for Michael O’Keefe’s cancerous brain tumor to have disappeared. “Nor will anyone else find an explanation,” he said. “I only wish that there were more miracles granted to the agonized parents who are losing their children to cancer.”

When Monica testified, she said, “I cannot understand why I was so resistant to the idea that the power of prayer was the cause of Michael’s return to health. I was a witness to the absolute act of faith of his mother when I told her he was terminally ill. It was arrogant of me to be so dismissive of her faith, especially since the proof of it is her eight-year-old healthy little boy.”

It was only after she had completed answering their questions and Monsignor Kelly had thanked them for coming, that Monica laid the file marked CATHERINE on his desk. “I think I would prefer that you read this after I leave,” she said. “Then, if you wish, we can talk again. But if it is determined that Sister Catherine is proposed for beatification, I would like to be invited to the ceremony.”

“Of course.” Monsignor Kelly stood up. “Dr. Jenner, perhaps you’d like to see a picture of Sister Catherine.”

“Yes, I would.”

“Dr. Farrell, I don’t think you saw this picture when you were here. It was taken when she was quite young, in her early thirties, I believe.” Monsignor Kelly reached into his desk and took out the photograph of a nun in traditional habit, smiling as she held two babies in her arms.

Ryan looked from the picture to Monica. “Sister Catherine was a beautiful woman,” he said, as he handed it back.

He and Monica did not speak until they were in the car. “After they read the file, they’ll take that picture out and look at it again,” he said. “Your resemblance to her is unmistakable, especially the smile.”

Before he turned on the ignition, he said, “Alexander Gannon loved Catherine so much that he never looked at another woman. I understand how he felt. That is how much I love you.

One week later

It feels a lot different than the last time I discharged Sally from the hospital, Monica thought, remembering Renée Carter’s impatient order to Kristina Johnson to hurry up and dress the baby because she was late for lunch.

Today, she was releasing her into the welcoming arms of Susan Gannon, who had come to the hospital alone. “Peter is waiting for us at my apartment,” she explained. “He said he was afraid that if he met her for the first time here, he’d break down and cry.” As she nuzzled Sally’s cheek, Susan smiled and added, “Which is exactly what I expect him to do when I get this little girl home. He’s frantic to meet her. Kristina will start to work for me tomorrow morning. Peter and I both wanted Sally to ourselves today.”

“I know what Peter has been through,” Monica said. “I hope everything goes well for him from now on.”

“He’s going to have to face some tax issues but no criminal charges,” Susan said frankly. “He’ll weather them. It’s a big relief for all of us that Greg and the others may plead guilty. I’ll be very grateful if we don’t have to go through so many criminal trials.”

“So will I,” Monica agreed fervently. “The last thing I want to do is to have to testify in court. It would especially sicken me to have to look at Dr. Hadley.”

Susan hesitated, then said, “Monica, now that you have the proof that you are Alexander Gannon’s granddaughter, I hope they’ll be able to recover for you some of the money that is rightfully yours.”

“We’ll see what happens,” Monica said quietly. “If they do, most of it will go toward the pediatric center we need here. I am thrilled to know my background, and it is a joy to discover that Sally is my second cousin. No wonder she’s always been so special to me. The great sadness is that three people died because of that money.”

“You are going to come and see her?” Susan asked. “And I mean regularly, as family. I promise you’ll like Peter. He’s going to be around a lot, and remember he’s your cousin, too.”

Monica reached out and took Sally from Susan’s arms. They walked down the corridor, then, with a final hug, she handed the baby back to Susan.

“Bye-bye, Monny,” Sally called, as they got into the elevator, and the door closed behind them.

She felt a hand on her arm. It was Ryan. “Don’t feel too bad. One of these days you’ll have your own,” he said.

Her smile radiant, Monica looked up at him.

“I know,” she said. “I know.”