Favorite Wife (9 page)

C
HAPTER
S
EVEN

A
lma LeBaron paced back and forth like a wild man on the sky-blue linoleum of our living room. As I hesitated in the shadows of the hallway and peered out at him, I felt like my heart had swollen into my throat and was choking me. “You've got to get a grip,” I whispered to myself as I shivered in terror. “There's not one thing he can do to you. Jay and Carmela are long gone and out of his reach. His being here proves that.” My stomach felt queasy and my hands were shaking, but I clutched my robe and stepped into the lamplight.

Against the wall in the shadows, Mom, Dad, and Maria waited. As I walked into the center of the room, four pairs of eyes glued themselves on me. Alma stopped his furious pacing in the middle of a stride, his penetrating blue gaze coated in ice.

“Susan Ray,” he barked, “I don't want you to even attempt to deny knowledge of why I'm here. You've been in cahoots with that brother of yours from the start. You helped him make away with my daughter, and you, young lady, are going to tell me right now where they've gone.”

His voice resounded like a physical slap, and I winced. My lips felt stiff as I tried to make them form words. “I don't know where they've gone. Jay wouldn't tell me because he knew you would try to make me tell you . . .”

“Alma,” Dad interrupted, “why are you so bound and determined to break those kids up? The way you've been acting, you'd think my son was a criminal! He's a good boy who loves Carmela. He's been raised in the church. He's a member of the priesthood. He loves the gospel and plans to live a godly life. As long as your daughter is happy with him, why should you meddle?”

Alma whirled on Dad. “Vern, I happen to care about my girl's future! I'm the only father she's ever known, and I think I know what's best for her! She's strong-willed and needs a mature man to be her spiritual head, not some punk kid who doesn't even show a beard shadow yet. We have the church to think of, and the Kingdom of God and its growth and strength to consider.”

By now they were toe to toe, Alma's height towering over my father's short body. “The man who wants to marry her needs a plural wife for his own spiritual growth,” Alma's voice had taken on the tones of a sermon. “You know it's no easy task for a married man to convert and marry a woman from the outside. The girls who are raised in the church must be saved for plural wives. Your boy can go out in the world and convert himself a girl to marry. Now, he's not having my daughter, and if it's too late by the time I find her, I will bring that son of yours up on Mann Act charges.”

Alma whirled on me again, his eyes grim and determined. “If you know where they've gone, you'd better speak now, or plan to see your brother in jail.”

“Okay, hold it right there.” Dad's voice was abrupt, his indignant blue eyes flashing. “Susan says she doesn't know where those kids went, so stop trying to browbeat her. If you want my opinion, there's some so-called laws and ordinances taking place in this church that are about as Christian as Communism. I don't know who exactly is responsible for coming up with this garbage you're spouting about, but I've a strong feeling Joel has nothing to do with it. Now, I've heard all I want to hear about this. Just for the record, I'm proud of my boy! You sell him short. I'm glad he had the guts to stand up to you, Alma. You forced him to elope with Carmela! They would have waited if you hadn't tried to make her marry Hector.” Dad paused for breath, then continued, his voice lowering, “Now, it's late and I'm tired. You go ahead and rant on about this if it makes you feel better, but do it somewhere other than my living room.” Reaching out for the front door, he swung it wide. “Goodnight, Alma,” he said gently.

Mom and Maria sidled over to my father and stood next to him, strong and silent in their support like soldiers behind their captain. Alma stared at the three of them in helpless rage. He started to speak, reconsidered, and stormed past them. When he reached the porch, he looked back. “You haven't heard the last of this,” he bristled.

As Dad closed the door I collapsed in a heap in the rocking chair. I wanted to scream and sob my fear and anger, but my strength was gone and I sat in numb silence, waiting for my parents' wrath. But I had misjudged them. Maria walked over to me and lightly stroked my hair. “Pobrecita,” she said softly, her brown eyes full of tears. “You carried the burden of this fear for your brother all alone, yes? That Alma! He's like a Hitler!” She clucked her tongue and shook her head in sadness.

“Susan, how long have you known about this?” My mother's voice shook.

“Since yesterday. Jay didn't want you all to know. He didn't want to worry you.”

“Well,” Dad sighed, “there's no use stewing over it. What's done is done. Those kids won't be coming back to the colony for a while, I can tell you that. I don't know how serious Alma was about sending the law after Jay, but just in case, he'd better stay out of his way. Carmela is underage.”

“It will all work out!” Maria said firmly in Spanish. “It will blow over soon. Come on, Vern. Let's go back to bed.”

Dad leaned down and kissed my hair. “You kids!” he muttered. He gave my mother a pat and trailed Maria out the door.

Mom wandered around the kitchen, her eyes deep caverns in her pale face. Suddenly she glanced at me, as if noticing for the first time that I was still here. “Go to bed, girl,” she said quietly. “Let's not worry any more about this. Like Maria said, it'll all work out.”

As I made my way through the dark hall past Aunt Thelma's and Uncle Bud's door, past Fara and Mona's room, I wondered how they had slept through the yelling that had occurred. I crawled into bed and lay still for a long time, staring into the darkness. Finally, the ice that had formed on my insides melted and fell in giant drops on my pillow. Why did things seem so confusing? Almost everyone considered Alma a godly, righteous man. After all, he was the bishop of God's True Church, a church that would encompass the whole world one of these days. But was he right in this present issue? Would God agree with Alma's reasoning? In my heart, I couldn't feel that He would.

I tossed and turned, my body alternating from freezing to dripping with sweat. When sleep finally came, it was restless and filled with nightmares.

Uncle Bud's and Aunt Thelma's usual banter was lacking the next morning. Jay's disappearance had caused a dark gloom to settle over the household. Fara's and Ramona's eyes grew huge with shock when they heard about it. “Isn't he ever coming back?” Mona's voice quivered, as her round chin trembled.

“Of course he is,” Mom said quickly. “Just as soon as he can. You have a new sister now, Mona. When Jay comes back, he'll bring Carmela home with him.”

The news quickly spread. It was Sunday, the last day of conference, and people huddled together to discuss the elopement. As I hurried in the door for the afternoon meeting, one of the colony busybodies was saying, “ . . . didn't surprise me in the least. Hector planned to marry her, you know, the poor man.”

Throughout the afternoon, Verlan grinned and winked at me several times. He seemed so carefree and happy, as if he understood the uneasiness I was experiencing and wanted to cheer me up. It did make me feel better. As the day passed, the excitement of being courted returned, and it almost replaced the empty, gnawing feeling inside me.

Directly after the meeting Verlan excused himself from the men gathered up on the stage and made his way toward me. “I understand you will have time to talk to me tonight?” he said in a low tone. His eyes were warm, his smile intimate.

I felt so shy and tongue-tied, just like an awkward child. “I would like that,” I said, hesitantly smiling back at him.

“Are you going to the young people's Fireside Social at my mother's tonight?”

I nodded again, and he said, “Real fine, then. I'll be there, waiting for you. I'll be in the back bedroom when it's over, so just come find me, okay?” He flashed his lopsided grin and went back to the huddle of men.

Tonight. Could I wait until then? I didn't think I could. Before I walked out the door I looked back at him. Tonight seemed an eternity away.

After dinner was over, Mark walked with me to Grandma LeBaron's. One of the apostles would be speaking tonight, followed by refreshments and games. The Chynoweths were planning to leave shortly afterward to return to Utah. As we hurried along in the twilight, Mark glanced over at me several times, his sharp hazel eyes noting my nervousness. “You're not still worrying about Jay, are you?” he chided. “If you are, don't. He and Carmela are probably hidden away in some motel room in Chihuahua City right now, calling room service for supper. I'm betting they'll be back here within a year. Jay just needs to prove to all these old duffers that he can take care of a wife, and then Alma will welcome 'em home with open arms. So stop your fidgeting, Susie. You're not his mother,” Mark poked me in the ribs.

I smiled at his efforts, but Jay wasn't the one on my mind. My meeting with Verlan loomed before me, and I was excited, yet so scared!

It was past ten o'clock when the noisy teenagers in Grandma's living room began leaving. I walked outside with Debbie. Her family had arrived to tell her goodbye, and they were loading into their station wagon, preparing to head for the border.

“Debbie, sweetheart,” her mom was saying as she hugged her oldest child, then dabbed the tears away from her rouged cheeks, “You'd better write more often from now on; promise me you'll take care of yourself. Honey, I miss you so much, and I worry about leaving you down here.”

“Now, Mother, I'm a big girl.” Debbie threw an exasperated look at Mark, who was hovering close.

I wandered back into the kitchen where Grandma was washing up the Koolaid glasses. Absently I glanced at her hardwood cabinets with the white tile countertops and the stainless steel sink with running tap water. A huge refrigerator stood in the corner. Creamy Spanish tile covered the floor. A big table against one wall held freshly made bread that smelled delicious. It looked so modern and comfortable, a palace in comparison to our home, where we hauled well water and kept jars of milk and other perishables in pans of cold water.

Grandma wiped her hands on her apron. “That was a nice crowd that showed up tonight, wasn't it? It's so good to see young folks enjoying themselves. I can't believe conference is over already, can you? It just went by in a flash.”

“Grandma, which room is Verlan in?” My face flamed. I peeked at her out of the corner of my eye, then busied myself putting away dishes.

Her smile lit up the dim kitchen. “Does this mean what I think it does? Has he said something to you?”

“Yes. Well, sort of.” I glanced at her shyly. “He asked my dad last night if he could court me.”

“Well! Now isn't that something, after your dream and all! He asked me about you yesterday morning. He thinks you're awfully pretty, you know.”

Warmth and delight tingled through me, clear to my toes. “Did he really say that?”

“Well now . . . not in those exact words. He said you'd certainly grown up. But I know my son. I could see that gleam in his eyes.”

Disappointment wiped the grin from my lips. It wasn't the same thing at all. “Grandma,” I reminded her after a moment, “which room is he in?”

“Oh, yes . . . Honey, it's the far one on the right, down the hall. Just knock on the door, and make yourself at home. I'll see that no one bothers you.” She grinned at me like a conspirator.

I stood in front of the bedroom door several moments before I had the nerve to knock. What was the man on the other side of this door really like? I had no personal knowledge of him. I only knew of Verlan through other people who spoke highly of him. I liked his appearance, and I loved the way his eyes twinkled at me. His smile was charming and full of humor, but what was he really like? I knocked. The door opened, and his warm grin welcomed me.