Finding Ashley by Danielle Steel (free ebook reader for iphone txt) 📗

never got to hold her and I only got a glimpse of her wrapped in a blanket as one of the nuns took her away.” Melissa had had dreams of it for years. “I was never allowed to meet the adoptive parents, and they took her away to the States when she was a week old. They stayed with her at a hotel in Dublin, until she was old enough to fly back to the States with them. I never even knew what city they lived in. I knew nothing about them, except that they were American.

“There were seventy or eighty girls at the school, from all over the United States, and one girl from Paris who cried all the time. They had two nuns who were midwives right on the premises, so we never left the convent, even to give birth, unless a girl was having twins, or something went seriously wrong during the delivery, and then they’d take them to a hospital. They treated us like criminals, bad girls who needed to be punished, and worked us like slaves. There was no counseling, no therapy. We just stayed for the duration of the pregnancy, went to classes in the morning so we could go back to our schools when we went home, and worked for the rest of the day. After the baby was born, they shipped us home again two weeks later, our hearts broken forever.

“I read somewhere that the Church started getting nervous about it. Forty or fifty years of high-priced adoptions, which must have brought in a fortune, given the donations they accepted in exchange for healthy newborns to be adopted. The nuns covered their tracks by burning all the records, so no one could find the babies that were adopted later on. All trace of them was erased, including the names of the wealthy people who adopted them.

“Saint Blaise’s still exists, I checked. It’s a home for elderly, retired nuns now. They don’t do adoptions anymore. No one in the Church likes to talk about it, but you hear about it from time to time. Most of the girls who went there were too ashamed to talk about it, even now, years later. And probably the men they married later didn’t know.”

Melissa looked devastated while she told Hattie the details she hadn’t told her before. Hattie was deeply moved by what she said. It was an awful story if what she said was true. And Hattie thought that it was. It made her feel almost guilty for being a nun herself, but things happened sometimes even in the Church that were hard to explain, or justify. And she believed what Melissa said, that they had covered it up. She’d heard about some of those convents and mother and baby homes herself. They had served a purpose at one time, but no longer made sense in today’s more liberal world.

“I never forgave Mom for it, I don’t think I ever would have, even if she were alive today,” Melissa said in a broken voice. Talking about it tore her heart out all over again.

“The nuns probably meant well, and it met a need in the early days. What seems wrong is their making money from it, even if it all went to the Church. And destroying the records. But in those days, people weren’t looking for the babies they’d given up, or their birth parents. That’s new, even in adoptions by the state. Those records used to be sealed, and no one could get that information, until the laws were changed,” Hattie said quietly.

“Burning the records was a very efficient way to seal the records forever,” Melissa said bitterly. “I’ve hated even the sight of nuns ever since. I stopped believing in God, and never went to church again when I came home. Mom didn’t dare press that point. Dad acted like he knew nothing, and Mom got sick a few months after I got back, so we never talked about it. You and Carson are the only ones who know.”

“Do you think it would make a difference if you went to Ireland yourself? Some old nun might remember something. It’s a long shot, but it might be worth it,” Hattie suggested.

“When I called them, the mother superior said there were none of the old nuns left. It was thirty-three years ago, and they’re all dead, retired, or had been reassigned years ago. There have been four mother superiors since. And no one wants to talk about it or remember. They sounded sympathetic, but were very skittish when I called. I don’t think going back there now would make a difference. I’ve tried to make my peace with it for thirty-three years. I almost have, but not quite. I still haven’t forgiven Mom, but what good does that do? With Robbie gone, it would be nice to know where my daughter is, just to meet her and make sure she is having a good life. I’m no use to her as a mother now, she’s an adult, and she probably hasn’t forgiven me either for giving her up, but I’ve lost two children. Robbie, who I loved so much, and a little girl called Ashley I never knew. I’m sorry, and it probably doesn’t make sense to you, but I just couldn’t stomach it when you became a nun. All I could think of every time I saw you were the nuns at Saint Blaise’s. It made you one of them. It’s nice not seeing you in your habit now. You look like you again. I could never understand why you’d want to be part of all that. I still feel traumatized when I see a nun. Fortunately, I don’t see them much anymore.”

“Most orders don’t wear the habit now. I’m sorry you went through all that, and I made it worse for you.” Hattie said it with deep feeling.

“Why did you do it?” Melissa looked baffled. “You were such a happy kid. Why would