Sweetie's Diamonds Read Free Page A

surrounding areas volunteered their time at the facility.   Patient care was performed entirely by the nuns.  
    Although Diane was not a Catholic, there was something soothing and serene about the way the nuns ran the place.   She felt guilty that she didn’t get down to central Illinois as often as she should, but at least when she did come to visit it was a pleasant experience.   Unlike what it might have been at a hospital.
    She walked into Sister Fletcher’s office—the one with the door marked “Billing”—and said hello.
    â€œGood afternoon, Mrs. Boston,” Sister Fletcher said.   “Nice to see you again.”   She was a nun in her fifties, already developing skin spots on her hands.  
    Diane sat in front of the desk and said, “I need to make a payment.   It’s for the next four months.”
    â€œI see,” Sister Fletcher said.   “Let me just pull the file.   I take it that you’re paying in cash again?”
    â€œYes.”
    Sister Fletcher shook her head slightly.   She didn’t approve of having so much cash lying around.   It meant that she would have to run by the bank before it closed and deposit the money.  
    Diane removed the envelope from her handbag and slid it across the desk.  
    Sister Fletcher picked it up, opened it, and pulled out the thick stack of hundred dollar bills.   She shook her head again and began to count.   Diane sat quietly, staring at her lap.  
    â€œSixteen thousand,” Sister Fletcher announced.   “Just sign here and I’ll give you a receipt.”   She handed over a ledger and the blonde woman signed it with a flourish.
    The phone buzzed.   Sister Fletcher picked it up.   “Yes?   Oh.   All right, I’ll tell her.”   She hung up and said, “Sister Jarrett is waiting for you in her office.”
    â€œThank you.   Is that all?”
    â€œThat will do it.”
    Diane stood and walked out of the office.   Sister Fletcher shook her head once more and considered that the lady was one of the more mysterious people she had ever dealt with.
    Sister Jarrett, the administrator of the home, welcomed the blonde woman warmly.   “How are you doing today, Mrs. Boston?”
    â€œI’m fine,” she answered.   “And you?”
    â€œVery well, thank you.   Come in and sit down.”
    She entered the small space and sat.   The nun closed the door and went behind her desk.   “What can I do for you?”
    â€œHow is she doing?” Diane asked.
    Sister Jarrett shrugged.   “The same.   No change whatsoever.   Doctor Patterson was here yesterday to have a look at her.”
    Diane hadn’t expected otherwise yet she sighed with disappointment just the same.  
    â€œHave you thought more about what we discussed last time?” the nun asked her.  
    â€œYes, I’ve thought about it a lot.”
    â€œAnd?”
    â€œI don’t know what to do,” she said.   “I just… I just can’t pull the plug on my own sister.”
    â€œI understand.   But let me ask you this.   How long has she been here?”
    â€œTwenty-four years.”
    â€œThat’s right.   Twenty-four years .   That’s a long time to be in a state of permanent unconsciousness.   There have been extremely few cases in which patients recover from a coma of that duration.”
    â€œBut it’s happened.”
    â€œRarely.   One in a million.”
    â€œThen there’s a chance.”
    The nun leaned back in her chair.   “Yes, of course.   Prayer and faith go a long way.   We will care for her as long as you tell us to do so.   Mind you, it is not the Church’s policy to condone euthanasia.   But this is a special case and the Lord makes exceptions for easing interminable torment.   As I explained to you when you