Read Online The Divine Economy of Salvation by Priscila Uppal - Free Book Online Page A

spoon to top off the slices than in two young men who flirted with her each time she strode by, which was often.
    As soon as I saw the double-chocolate cheesecake with carved chocolate flowers on top, I knew I had to have it. Rachel had one too, I remember. I felt as if we had shared a secret when we bothpointed to the same cake and smiled with anticipation at the same time. Again, I was struck by her beauty: the way her cheekbones lifted when she smiled and how the skin around her eyes stretched into half moons. She had the brightest blonde hair I’d ever seen, like gold thread, without a hint of white or brown. When she looked directly at me, I could feel myself go slightly numb.
    The young woman served us our cakes and milkshakes and we dove in, hardly speaking for a few moments as we enjoyed our dessert. The music from a couple of the clubs had started, taunting us a little, but for the moment we were happy where we were. I was beginning to relax in their company, not to feel so guarded, when Caroline asked about my mother and father again.
    â€œSo what do they do?”
    â€œMy father’s a carpenter,” I said, placing the cloth napkin over my lips so as not to talk with my mouth full and wide open. “My mother doesn’t work.”
    I hoped my answer pleased them. I had no idea what their parents did for a living, and I still didn’t want them to know about my mother’s illness.
    â€œMy mom works on the weekends. She’s also taking a class to learn English. She can get by around here. Ottawa’s full of French people anyway, but she wants a promotion,” Caroline said. “It doesn’t matter that she knows English. Because of the rules she has to have a certificate.”
    I was relieved that they might not all be as well off as I’d first thought. I knew the school was expensive, but it was evidently not out of reach for parents who really wanted their children to go there,if they made sacrifices. Like my own parents had supposedly done.
    â€œMaman says she doesn’t want me to turn out like my sister. That’s why I’m getting a solid Catholic education.” Caroline tightened her lips and pointed her finger at me in imitation of her mother as she furrowed her brow. The girls laughed so I joined them.
    â€œAimée’s not so bad,” Francine blurted between mouthfuls. “I mean, from what you’ve told us.”
    â€œNo, but Maman thinks she is. Says it’s why she’s all over the boys. That she’s never going to get anywhere wasting her time working in a store and going to the clubs at night. Maman’s old-fashioned.”
    â€œYou should hear my mother,” Francine said, putting her fork down and speaking quickly as if afraid she wouldn’t get another chance. “My mother wants me to become a nun. She said that would be her greatest achievement, if I became a nun like her Aunt Madeline!”
    Rachel folded her napkin around her head like a wimple. Caroline followed suit. As I didn’t want to offend Rachel and Caroline by assuming I could participate in their teasing, I simply chuckled. Francine took it well.
    â€œWho wants to be like them? Sister Marguerite’s freaky and Sister Aline’s a bore! I don’t even want to know what Mother Superior does in that office of hers all day.”
    â€œYou’ll see,” added Caroline to me. “Those nuns are nuts! All they do is think about God and keeping their fingernails clean. Maman says they should tell us about their lives and we’d be fascinated, but I tell her they don’t do anything, so what do theyhave to tell except spelling lessons and choir sheets?” Caroline placed her makeshift wimple back down on the table.
    â€œWell, my mom’s probably never thought about it,” Rachel said and then went silent, as if she didn’t like where the conversation was headed. She didn’t pout, but she used her fork to poke