Sister Wife (16 page)

“Have you finished school?”

“Yep.” He glances at Abigail, who is piling fruit, water bottles and cookies on the counter beside the sandwiches. “House rules. And I'm going to trade school in the fall. I'm just saving up money in the meantime.”

I spread peanut butter on my toast. The room has grown painfully quiet since I arrived. “So,” I say, turning to the other boys, “what grade are you guys in?”

“I'm in eleven,” Selig answers. “He's in twelve.” Matthew nods.

“And you both lived in Unity before?”

They each nod, but no one offers anything else. What happened to the laughter that woke me up a few minutes ago?

When they're finished their breakfast, Selig and Matthew take their dishes to the sink, rinse them and put them in the dishwasher. They grab their backpacks, which are hanging on hooks in the front hall, and fill them with the sandwiches and snacks that Abigail has put out.

Jimmy is filling a thermos with tea, and Abigail is putting the lunch makings away. “I'll do that,” I tell her. “You get ready for work.”

“They trained you well in Unity,” she says, smiling. “Thank you.”

Once again I see a hint of softness in her weathered face. Perhaps I judged her too harshly last night. I suppose I wouldn't be at my best either if I were dragged out of my bed in the middle of the night. She takes her mug and heads down the hall.

As I finish tidying up the kitchen, Jimmy hangs behind, watching me.

“We all still have family in Unity,” he says.

I nod.

“We miss them.”

“Oh.” I hadn't thought about that.

“Selig's only been here a few months. I think he's pretty homesick. We try to keep his mind off his family.”

I nod. “I'll try to remember that.”

“A few of them end up returning, even though they know they want more than they can ever have there.”

“Why would they go back?” I take the dishrag and wipe down the table.

“Guilt. Love. Sometimes it's just too hard to break the ties.”

“Hmm. I wouldn't know. I've never really had a family. The one I lived with in Unity was as close as I ever got.”

“Then stick with us,” he says cheerfully. “We may not be related through blood, but...sometimes the family you choose is easier to live with than the one you were given.”

I smile as best I can but don't try to explain that it's not going to work for me. There's no way I'm going back to school.

I wander around the house, picking up the pictures, wondering about the faces peering out of them. I notice that the dusting hasn't been done for a while, so I find a rag in the laundry room and get to work. Then I decide that I should vacuum as well. When that's done, I turn on the TV and flick through the channels. It's been a long time since
I've done this, but not much has changed. There's nothing on but commercials, old movies and talk shows at this time of day. None of it interests me. I flick it off.

I rifle through my suitcase, looking for something appropriate to wear for job hunting. There's nothing, and everything I do have smells stale. I put a load in the washing machine and then pace around the house some more.

Finding myself back in the kitchen, I take a quick inventory of food. The cupboards and fridge are well stocked. Thinking about the appetites of those boys, I pull out a large mixing bowl and gather the ingredients I need to make a batch of muffins. Learning to cook was something good that came out of my time in Unity. I was always happy when I was assigned to kitchen work.

When the muffins are baking, I combine ingredients for a meat loaf and put it in the fridge for later.

After cleaning up the kitchen and putting my clothes in the drier, I go outside and take a look around the backyard. The sun is warm, and I plunk down into a lawn chair and think about how nice it is to be living in a home instead of a rented room somewhere.

I'm folding my clean clothes and putting them away when Selig and Matthew bang through the door. My heart leaps, and I rush into the hall. “Hi!”

My overenthusiastic greeting embarrasses them. “Hi,” Selig says, turning beet red and not making eye contact with me. He hangs his backpack on a hook. Matthew just grunts a greeting and walks toward the kitchen, giving me a wide berth.

“I made muffins,” I say, still over the top with enthusiasm. What has gotten into me?

That interests them. Matthew takes the margarine out of the fridge, and they sit at the table with the basket of muffins in front of them.

“How was school?” I ask, parentlike, even though I'm the same age as Matthew.

“Good,” they say in unison, their mouths full.

Matthew slathers margarine on a second one. “Have you already graduated?” he asks.

I place a jug of milk on the table. “Yep, I'm finished.” My half-truth hangs in the air between us. I decide to come clean. “But not graduated.”

Selig frowns. “Abigail's bending the rules for you?”

“Nope. She's giving me a week to find somewhere else to go.”

“Why don't you just come to school with us?” he asks. “It's not so bad.”

I reach for a muffin now too. “It would be bad for me.”

He shrugs and pours himself a second glass of milk. “I thought I'd get slagged when the kids found out where I'm from,” he says. “But everyone's been all right. We even get invited to hang out on weekends. The first time I got invited to someone's place, I thought maybe I was getting set up or something. But it was cool.”

I remember the guy in the park who referred to Unity as Rabbitsville. Maybe not all the kids are like that.

Matthew collapses on the couch in the living room and flicks on the TV while Selig spreads out his books on the
kitchen table. I pick up the novel he's pulled out of his bag and read the back flap. “Is this any good?” I ask him.

“Yeah, it's okay,” he says. “But I have to do a project on it, which I'm dreading. I'm not a big reader.”

Well duh. He comes from Unity. “Do you mind if I read it for a bit?”

“Sure, go ahead. I've got other homework to do first.”

I take the book down the hall to my bedroom and stretch out on my bed. This is heaven.

When Jimmy arrives home, I realize that I've been reading for over an hour. I get up to greet him. “Hi, Taviana!” he says, smiling broadly. I smile back, surprised at how happy I am to see him. He devours two muffins before locking himself in the bathroom to shower. I preheat the oven and scrub some potatoes. Then I slide them into the oven with the meat loaf and slice up some tomatoes and cucumber. I toss them with lettuce and put the bowl of salad in the fridge. I join Selig at the table and read while he does his homework.

“Something smells wonderful in here,” Abigail comments when she gets home.

“Taviana made a meat loaf,” Matthew says, joining us in the kitchen.

“And muffins,” Selig adds.

“And I think the house has been cleaned too,” Abigail says, looking around.

I nod, glad that she noticed.

“Thanks, honey,” she says. “This is a real treat to come home to.”

“You're welcome.”

The phone rings, and I hear Jimmy stomping into the living room to pick it up. Abigail peers into the fridge. “Wow,” she says. “You have been busy.”

“I had to do something.”

“No job hunting?”

“No. I decided to wash all my clothes, and then I realized that I don't own anything that's appropriate for job hunting.”

Abigail just nods thoughtfully.

“I've got a bit of money, so maybe I'll go buy something new tomorrow,” I tell her. “Unless you want it to cover my room and board here.”

“No, no. I'm sure you're long overdue for some new clothes. And you certainly earned your keep today.”

Jimmy comes back into the kitchen with a goofy grin on his face. “Have I got a surprise for you,” he tells me.

“You do?”

“Uh-huh.”

“What is it?”

“I'm not telling. You'll have to wait.” He turns to Abigail. “We need to talk, alone.”

“Down to my room then,” Abigail says.

Jimmy gives me another cheeky grin and follows Abigail down the hall. I open up my book and continue reading.

AFTER DINNER, MATTHEW
and Selig load the dishwasher and begin doing the dishes. When I offer to help them, Abigail pushes me into the living room. “We share the work around here,” she says. “You cooked, they can clean up.”

I settle myself on the couch with the book. Boys never helped with the housework in Unity. This will take some getting used to.

I watch as Abigail hands Jimmy the car keys. “Come straight home,” she tells him.

“Where are you going?” I ask.

“To collect your surprise,” he tells me.

I shake my head, smiling, and continue reading.

“Is that Selig's book?” Abigail asks.

I nod.

“When did you start reading it?”

“This afternoon.”

“You're a fast reader.”

I glance down and notice that I'm about halfway through. “It's a good book.”

“Maybe you'll be able to help Selig with his project.”

“Yeah, maybe.” I remember a favor I want to ask. “Would it be okay with you if I give your address on my library card application?”

“Absolutely.”

“Thanks.” Now I will definitely make the trip into town tomorrow.

The house grows quiet as Matthew and Selig do homework and Abigail sits at a desk that's pushed into a
corner of the living room. She sorts through papers. I get so caught up in Selig's novel that I don't realize it's getting dark until Abigail switches on a lamp beside me.

Suddenly the front door bangs open and Jimmy steps inside. “Are you ready for your surprise?” he asks me.

I nod and smile.

He moves aside and motions to someone still standing on the doorstep. “C'mon in.”

A moment later, Jon steps into the living room. He looks around and when he sees me, he smiles. “Hi, Taviana,” he says.

Chapter Fifteen

I
feel like a caged animal. My head is spinning with whining babies and bossy sister wives. I'm not even permitted to go into the yard to tend to the garden or hang laundry on the line, and the weather is beautiful. Through the window I can see the new leaves on the trees quivering in a light breeze. Taviana once described a day like this as luscious. I'm missing her stories and funny words even more than I thought I would. She was such a wonderful diversion from the endlessly boring housework. I want to be outside, filling my lungs with fresh air, feeling the heat of the sun on my face. I want to be at the river, building an inuksuk with Jon.

As I wipe sticky fingerprints off the front window, I see a lone male figure coming down the driveway. I watch as he gets closer. It's Martin Nielsson, Jon's father! He veers off the driveway and crosses the side yard, heading to the barn where Daddy is working today. My heart pounds in my chest.

I'm scrubbing so hard at the window my arm aches. Vinegar fumes burn my eyes. Now I see my father marching across the yard toward the house, his face stormy. My stomach lurches when the back door slams open. “Celeste!”

I drop my rag and spray bottle and hurry to the backroom. “Yes, Daddy?”

He simply grabs my sore arm and hauls me across the yard to the barn. He pushes me into his office, where Mr. Nielsson is waiting. I look from one to the other.

“My son is gone,” Mr. Nielsson says, his voice ragged.

“Because of you,” Daddy spits out.

I stare at my feet.

“He is my first born, my strongest and brightest boy,” Mr. Nielsson says. “He works hard on the farm. His mother is beside herself with grief. We need him home.”

“What do you say for yourself, Celeste?” my father rages.

My hands tremble and my mind goes blank. I have no idea how to answer him.

“Celeste, say something!” he orders.

I can only shake my head. I have no words.

Daddy turns abruptly and grabs the leather strap off the wall. He yanks it down. I step back and feel my mouth drop open.

Mr. Nielsson places his hand on Daddy's arm. “Let me talk to her, Kelvin.”

Daddy pulls his arm away from Mr. Nielsson. He's exhaling in short puffs and his eyes are on fire. I can see from his expression that he's trying to come to some kind of decision. He grips the strap. Clutch, release. Clutch, release.
Suddenly his arm is in the air and the strap comes down hard, smacking the desk. I jump. “She's all yours, for ten minutes,” he growls. “If she hasn't said something, at least apologized, by the time I get back...”

He doesn't finish the sentence, but we all know exactly what the threat is. “I don't care how old you are,” he says to me. “You've disgraced this family.”

Daddy storms out of the office, and I'm left alone with Mr. Nielsson. I glance at his face, expecting to see the same fury as was on Daddy's, but he's only watching me sadly.

“Let's sit down,” he suggests.

We sit in two chairs, facing each other. My hands are still trembling. I take a deep breath. “I'm sorry Jon left, Mr. Nielsson,” I say. I hadn't realized that it was an apology Daddy was looking for.

“I'm sure you are,” Mr. Nielsson says gently. “And I know you're not completely responsible for what happened. Jon was equally to blame, but I'd forgive him completely if he'd come back before the rest of the community finds out.”

“He was planning to leave Unity anyway,” I tell him. “It just happened a little sooner.”

Mr. Nielsson sits back, surprised. “Are you sure? He was always obedient. A good boy.”

“I'm sure. He told me he was questioning his faith, that he had been for some time.”

“I didn't know.” He shakes his head.