Tara, donning her wimple, Walks into the foyer of Maple Tree Rest Home. To her, the mix of antiseptic aging furniture represents independence. Tara is Maple Shade's social worker, even though her job has been arranged for her by St. Rose.
Tara chuckled to herself, changing her morning mood, "Ready for another day at the salt mines?"
Jenna, the zaftig receptionist at the front, is dressed head-to-toe in black. Her makeup, too thick and dark for the '70s, thus adding to the enigma. Her hair tumbled around her face in untamed curls. Jenna was Goth way before the style became famous. "Good morning, Sister Tara," Jenna waving toward a man in the lobby, camera slung over his shoulder. "We've got a visitor today. A photographer. Taking holiday pics for publicity".
Tara in a neutral tone, "Sounds like a plan."
Jenna shocked, "You're not the least bit curious?"
Brenda, the nutrition specialist, wearing the whites of the kitchen staff, joins them. As soon as she spotted the photographer, her attention shifted.
Brenda speaking directly to Jenna as if Tara the nun was not even present, "Who's the hottie with the camera?"
Jenna fires back, "Hubba Hubba, right, his name is Taylor. He's Pauline from accounts' son. He's here taking pictures for the holidays." Ignoring the nun standing right beside her.
Brenda's eyes sparkled with interest as she giggled. "I'd pose for some pictures."
Jenna's eyes still watching Taylor from across a crowded entryway. He was a bit out of place in his oil-stained jacket.
Tara clearing her throat, following Jenna's line of sight, "I take it this guy's got your attention?"
Brenda takes paper from a notepad and writes a secret note. Acting like Tara can not see her, even though she is right there. Guys like that always go for the, then she draws a quick tiny sketch of a nun. Slides it over to Jenna.
Jenna snorted audibly, rolling her eyes, "Yep. Ain't that the truth."
Tara shook her head in amusement, "You two are incorrigible. Worse than the Novice nuns I deal with at St. Rose."
Jenna, adds to the note and slides it back to Brenda, "He's all mine." And slides it into Brenda's palm. Brenda crumples the note.
Tara is amused but not surprised.
Within moments Tara walks away and sits with Ruth Daniels, one of the oldest residents at Maple Tree. Ruth is well over eighty, rocking in her chair while knitting.
Tara engages, "How's the knitting going, Ruth?"
Ruth smiles, "Knitting's fine. But tell me, child, did I ever tell you what I used to do when I was young?" Ruth was known for her stories--wild tales from her days as part of the vaudeville circuit.
Tara is intrigued, "You? On the stage? Yes, you have told me in the past, but remember I'm a nun." Laughing with her old friend.
Ruth presses on, "Oh, yes. Back when I was very young maybe 15 or 16 years old, I used to dance in front of crowds. Small crowds, mind you. Stages were set up in large white tents outside. I wore the most scandalous outfits. Practically nothing."Â Her voice rich with nostalgia. Continuing, "I was quite the hit in the theater, you know. When you're young, you don't think much about modesty."
Tara snorted, chuckling nervously, "Wow you were not even legal age, times must have been different then."
Ruth nodding and looking around to see if anyone else was in earshot, "Oh yes times were different, no one used the term Legal age. Back then, I could shimmy and shake my tits, ass, and flash my coochie."
Tara is a bit uncomfortable knowing her 80-plus-year-old friend had no filter regarding adult situations.
"While dancing I felt a surge of power and entitlement--an electrifying sense of control over men,"Â Ruth was speaking with drive and her right hand was clenched. "I loved the attention. An empowerment and self-worth that I haven't experienced since. An expression of my sexuality as a woman. In over 70 years I have not felt the same," finishing with a sigh.
Tara, now blushing slightly and chuckling nervously, shook her head, "I think I'm more suited to my quiet life as a nun."