Sister Wife (8 page)

I nod. She's not.

“And I missed a few things.”

“Like dishwashing machines.”

“Yeah, and gum.”

“Gum?”

“Yeah, and salt and vinegar chips. And books. And the Internet. Actually, a lot of things.”

“So you're happy to leave.” I don't know why that bothers me, but it does.

“No, this was a nice safe place to stay for a while, but it's time to move on.”

I try to imagine the other kind of places she's been. I can't.

My eyes have become accustomed to the dark, and I see her smile. “In a sideways sort of way, Jacob offered to marry me tonight,” she says.

“Really?”

“Yeah. It was so sweet. But the Prophet said no, and I wouldn't have consented to it anyway.”

“Hmm.” Consented. Have any of the girls from Unity ever consented to marriage? I decide to put that thought aside for later.

We sit in silence for a few minutes, leaning against each other. Her arm is warm on mine.

“Maybe you could ask Jon where the boys from Unity go when they leave,” I suggest.

She doesn't say anything for a moment. Then she sits up. “Good call, Celeste. If I could get the name of someone, anyone, who'd take me in just long enough for me to... to get a job and save enough money to pay rent...then maybe...”

“Maybe what?”

Before she can respond, I'm startled by a voice calling my name. It's Daddy! We both jump to our feet.

“Let me do the talking,” Taviana whispers.

I can only nod, too terrified to think of anything else. We step out the open door.

“Over here, Daddy.”

He's standing by the back door, peering toward us. There's a smaller figure in a nightdress standing slightly behind him. Nanette. I should have known.

Taviana takes my hand and we approach.

“Where have you been?” he asks sharply.

“It's my fault,” Taviana stammers. “I just wanted to tell Celeste what happened this evening.”

“Weren't you here earlier?” he asks me.

I shake my head.

“Where were you?” he asks.

“I went for a walk,” I say, but I can't look directly at him.

“A walk?” he asks. “Where to?”

“Just down to the river and back. It was such a nice evening, and all my chores were done.”

“Were you alone?”

“Yes.” Another lie. Something shrivels inside.

There's a long pause. I can feel him staring down at me. The agonizing guilt is reaching a breaking point.

“Could you not have waited until tomorrow to talk to Celeste, Taviana?” he asks. “Was this so urgent?”

“Yes, sir, it was urgent,” Taviana tells him. “I'm leaving tomorrow, as you know. I wanted to spend some more time with her, to say good-bye. I may never see her again.”

I feel my eyes well up again at the thought of that.

Father sighs and clears his throat. “Taviana, Nanette, get to bed. Celeste, you can come with me, into my office.”

Taviana looks at me, alarmed. I can only shrug. Then I notice the smug look on Nanette's face, my little sister who I was so close to only a few short weeks ago. What has happened to us?

Taviana and Nanette go into the house, and I follow Daddy back into the barn. He flicks on the lights in his office and motions for me to take a chair.

“I was speaking with the Prophet this afternoon, Celeste,” he says. “Before the...the unpleasant events of this evening.”

My hand slides into the pocket of my apron and squeezes the arrowhead that Jon gave me. As I stroke its
rough surface, I concentrate on seeing his face in my mind, his soft brown eyes. I will myself not to hear what my father is about to say.

“I urged him to hasten the announcement of your assignment,” he continues, “as I understand you are being distracted by the boys in our community.”

I clutch the pointed stone even tighter.

There's a long pause, and I can feel him studying me. “Is this true, Celeste?”

I swallow hard. I now know for sure that He is punishing me. First the news about Taviana, and now this. Do I dare tell another lie? “I just don't feel ready for marriage, Father. I would like to be something. Like a nurse, or a mechanic, like you.”

His eyebrows arch.

“Or even a veterinarian,” I continue. “I like being around farm animals.”

He's staring at me like he's never seen me before.

“And,” I add, almost under my breath, “I would like to choose my own husband.”

I'm expecting an angry outburst, but Father simply leans back in his chair and folds his arms across his chest. “Your sister suggested Taviana might have been a bad influence on you. I didn't want to believe it, but I guess she was right. The sooner she leaves Unity, the better. It's a shame. She's been very helpful to your mother.”

“Don't blame Taviana, Father.” I can feel myself getting worked up. “You always said I asked too many questions. Now I'm asking myself whether I'm ready to be a good
wife and mother, and the answer is no. Nanette is. Assign her to someone.”

“You know it doesn't work that way,” he says.

“Why can't I be the exception?”

“There are no exceptions, Celeste. You know that. We are all here for one reason, and that reason is to enter the Kingdom of Heaven together. If we make one exception, then we will have to make two, and so on. Taviana was an exception, and look how that turned out.”

“It actually turned out fine. She's a good person.”

“That may be so, but if she attracts attention to our little community, that is not a good thing.”

“What will happen to her?”

“That's not for you to worry about.”

“How can I not worry about her? I love her like a sister.”

Father just shakes his head. “Why don't you concentrate on practicing purity? The greatest freedom we have is obedience. You're a good girl. You've been a fine daughter and a loving sister. I know you will also make a fine wife.”

There's nothing for me to say. I concentrate on the stone again.

“I believe the Prophet will have a name for us within the next few weeks, Celeste, God willing. And then it will only be a few more weeks until the marriage will take place. I suggest you spend as much time as possible reading the scriptures. You will find the answers you seek there.”

I get up to leave. “Good night, Celeste,” he says.

“Good night.”

I hear his chair squeak across the floor and then he mutters, “A veterinarian.”

I glance back and see him shaking his head, a funny little smile on his face.

Chapter Eight

I
feel Celeste slide into bed, keeping to the far edge of the mattress. She turns her back to me. “I was worried about you,” I whisper to her stiff back. “What if something had happened?”

“You weren't worried,” she whispers into the dark room. “You were tattling. You want to get me into trouble.”

I don't want to get her into trouble. I want to keep her
out
of trouble, but she won't believe that. “What did Father say?”

“He said that the Prophet's going to find me a husband as soon as possible because some little tattletale suggested I might be showing too much interest in boys my own age.”

There's not much I can say to that, but I find myself smiling in the dark. Father listened to me. I wonder if he also asked the Prophet to assign me to a husband like I asked. Rolling onto my side, I snuggle under the blankets and sink back into the dream Celeste interrupted—the
one where Martin Nielsson and I are standing facing each other, holding hands. “I've been waiting for this day for so long,” he whispers, “and now here you are, finally, my wife.” He leans forward, so close I can feel the heat radiating off his body. The next thing I know, his lips are on mine and our arms wrap around each other...

I WATCH AS
Taviana pulls her suitcase out from under her cot and flips the lid open. The morning sun slants in through the window. Everyone but Taviana, Celeste and I has gone downstairs. Inside the suitcase are the clothes she arrived with. She pulls out a pair of blue jeans and a T-shirt. Celeste and I busy ourselves making beds while she gets dressed. When I hear the latch of the suitcase snap shut, I turn back to her. She's wearing pants that are skintight and sit low on her hips. The T-shirt appears to be two sizes too small, and there's a slash of skin exposed between the pants and the shirt.

“Taviana,” I say, mortified for her. “I think you've outgrown those things.”

She looks down at herself and shrugs. “No,” she says, “they're right.”

The outfit totally transforms her. She never quite fit in here, but now it's very clear that she's not one of us, never was. She looks completely unfeminine and unlikely to ever practice purity. Why would Gentile girls want to look like that? She hangs her nightdress in the closet beside her
other dresses. They'll be passed down to one of our sisters or cousins.

Celeste is sitting beside the suitcase on the bed, tears streaming down her face. I feel a lump developing in my own throat. “How soon are you leaving?”

“Soon. Your father said to let him know when I'm ready. There are just a few people I want to go say good-bye to first.” I notice the look that passes between her and Celeste, even through Celeste's tears.

“Like who?” I ask.

“Like...” She hesitates. “Like Jacob. He brought me here, and I lived with him and his family for the first six months.” She glances at Celeste again.

A burning jealousy rips through me. When did Celeste and Taviana become so close? It's like Taviana has replaced me as Celeste's favorite sister.

“I'm going to ask Father if I can drive into town with you,” Celeste tells Taviana.

Taviana shakes her head. “No,” she says. “It will just make it harder. And besides, your mom needs you here.”

Celeste doesn't argue but drops her face into her hands and her shoulders heave.

Settling onto the bed beside her, Taviana gently rubs her back. Then she says, “I'll be back in a few minutes.” She gives Celeste's shoulders a last squeeze and walks out of the room. I follow her down the stairs.

Father usually goes directly to work after breakfast, but today he's still sitting at the kitchen table, across from Mother, who is not in bed for a change. His three other
wives are present too, most of them with babies on their hips and toddlers hanging around their legs. Heads turn to stare when we walk into the kitchen and then just as quickly turn away. Taviana's lack of modesty is embarrassing. The mood remains somber, and even the children seem to sense that something is up. Mother is looking particularly weary.

“Are you ready, Taviana?” Daddy asks without looking at her.

“I need about fifteen minutes,” she says. “To say goodbye.”

“Most everyone's here,” he says, looking around at his family. “Except the ones at school.”

“There are a few others...like Jacob.”

Father shakes his head. “I need to get going, Taviana. I have work to do.”

“But...”

“And besides,” he says, making a motion toward her with his hand, “you can't walk around Unity looking like that.”

Red blotches appear on her cheeks. I wonder who she really wanted to say good-bye to.

“You can write some notes from the truck if you wish,” Father says, “and I'll have one of the girls deliver them later.”

I'm expecting her to put up a fight, but she places her suitcase on the floor with a sigh. “Then I'll just run up and say good-bye to Celeste,” she says, dashing off before Father can respond. A few minutes later she's back. None of us
have even moved. She picks up her suitcase, and with her shoulders thrown back, she turns and walks out the door.

We all gather around the truck. Father tosses Taviana's suitcase in the back and opens the passenger door for her, but instead of climbing in, she turns and looks into the faces of each of us standing there. My mother is not even trying to hold back her tears. They are streaming down her face. She's the first to embrace Taviana. “We're really going to miss you,” she says.

“I'm going to miss you too,” Taviana says, gently wiping the tears off Mother's face. “Thank you for taking me into your family.”

I feel a tug in the pit of my stomach. Taviana has been taking care of Mother for weeks, helping her bathe, braiding her hair, keeping her company. Suddenly I realize that Taviana's developed a closeness with her that I've never had. I contribute to our home by helping with my little brothers and sisters, but I rarely get a chance to be alone with Mother. Right now I'm glad that Taviana's leaving. I will become Mother's caregiver. It's only right. I am her daughter.

Mother nods, clearly overcome, but unable to say anything else.

“And best of luck,” Taviana says, gently rubbing Mother's swollen belly.

One by one, Taviana hugs each of the mothers, spending a little extra time with Pam, who is sobbing uncontrollably. Then she hugs many of the children. She takes Faith, one of the twins, and tosses her in the air. Faith squeals with
delight. Taviana hugs her tightly before passing her back to Deborah. Joan, the other twin, raises her chubby arms up to Taviana. Taviana takes her from Lena and tosses her into the air too.

Finally she gets to me. We regard each other for a moment. “I'm really, really going to miss
you
, Nanette,” she says.

“I'm really, really going to miss you too,” I tell her, but I can no longer meet her eyes. I try to smile, but my mouth doesn't want to do what it's told. I feel it twist into what must be a ridiculous expression. Taviana wraps her arms around me and squeezes tight. “Be patient with Celeste,” she whispers in my ear. “She's really a good person, just different from you.”