“That was kind of him,” she says. She’s holding a sandwich but hasn’t taken a single bite of it yet. Her eyes are dark, empty.
“Faith is walking around the coffee table now.” I keep talking, trying to distract her. “Joan pulls herself up on the table, but she hasn’t taken any steps yet.”
Mother nods and puts the sandwich back on the plate. “Thank you, Nanette, but I’m really not hungry today.”
I wrack my brain for something else to say. What would Taviana have done? “Would you like me to read to you from the book?” I ask.
“No, I think I need to sleep some more. I feel so tired today.”
How can she sleep anymore? It’s all she does. “Okay.” I pick up the tray and begin to leave the room, but then I remember what I want to talk to her about. I return to my chair beside her bed and place the tray on the side table. “Mother...”
“Hmmm.” Her eyes are already closed.
“There’s something I’m worried about.”
She forces her eyes to open again, but her lids are droopy and she barely focuses on me. “What is it, Nanette?” she asks.
“I think Celeste is seeing a boy, secretly.”
She tries to sit up a little bit. “What makes you think this?”
“Well, she’s been disappearing a lot lately. And today I saw her smiling at a boy in the church hall, and then they both left, separately. She hasn’t come home since the service.”
She lies back again and sighs. “She’ll be married soon enough. Let’s not say anything about this to your father. It will only get him upset, and he has enough to worry about.”
I stare at her, shocked. “Mother! She will not be pure for her husband.”
“We don’t know that for sure, Nanette. Maybe she’s just in need of some alone time.”
“But...”
“Let it go, Nanette. Her life will be filled with her own responsibilities all too soon. We can allow her a little freedom for this short time.”
I think my mother’s condition has affected her thinking. Or maybe it’s the double shock of losing both Taviana and Colleen in the same day. I pick up the tray and storm out of the room, more determined now than ever to tell Father what Celeste is up to, but first I have to find out for sure. Father has no patience for rumors that are not based on concrete evidence.
Pam is still washing up the dishes in the kitchen. I drop the tray on the counter and tell her that Mother has given me a message to deliver to Ruth, Uncle Jeremy’s wife. Pam simply nods and carries on.
I slip into outdoor shoes and hurry along the road. I can see men out working in the fields, and a few women are outside hanging laundry or pulling weeds in their gardens, but no one pays any attention to me.
Passing the playground where we often take the children after school, I carry on down to the river and then head upstream. I have only walked a short way when I see them.
Chapter Thirteen
CELESTE
Iarrive at the river before Jon, so I pick my way across the beach to the stone people. One more has been added to the family, and it stands close to the stone woman I built a few days ago. My heart swells. This game that we are playing fills me with an unexplainable delight, and I wish I had time to build another one right away.
When I see Jon crossing the beach, I run toward the knoll of trees where we’ve been meeting. He greets me with a hug. “I have good news,” he says.
“Really?”
“Yep. Do you want to guess what it is?”
I shrug. “Does it have to do with Taviana?”
“It does.”
“What?”
“Guess.”
“Jimmy found her a place to live?”
“He did.”
I give Jon a quick hug. Considering I rarely ever hugged anyone two weeks ago, it’s sure coming easily to me now. “Great! Where?”
“There’s a lady who lives in Springdale. She left Unity years ago and now takes in boys who want to leave and start a new life.”
Something about this sounds vaguely familiar. “Is her name Abigail?”
“Yeah.”
My heart sinks. I remember hearing the women in my house talk in whispers about Abigail. According to the gossip, she ran off in the middle of the night with her five children. The whole community was shocked. Her husband tracked her down and rescued the children, bringing them safely back to Unity, but she wouldn’t come. Clearly she was mentally unstable to do such a thing. Devil’s work, the mothers said. How could she not come back and raise her own children?
“Are you sure that’s a good idea?”
“A good idea? To live with Abigail?”
“Yeah, I heard she’s...not quite right.”
Jon frowns. “You heard she’s not right because she chose to leave Unity, right?”
I see where he’s going with this. “No, because she chose not to raise her own children.”
“I’m sure she wanted to raise her children, just not in Unity. We don’t know why she ran away. Maybe she couldn’t live with her husband.”
“His other wives manage just fine.”
“Maybe they stay because the same thing would happen to them—they’d lose their children if they tried to leave.”
I’m still doubtful. “How does Abigail live? What does she do for money?”
“She works. She said Taviana can stay as long as she needs to, as long as she obeys the house rules.”
“I don’t know...”
“Celeste, Abigail has saved Taviana from sleeping on the streets. Isn’t that what you wanted?”
It was. “You’re right.” I suddenly realize how ungrateful I must sound. “Thanks, Jon.” I lean into him, and he kisses me. It only takes me a few seconds to forget my worries as Jon’s lips move softly across mine. My mind and body swirl away again, taking me to that place of combined contentment and longing, a place far from the mundane sameness of my days. I want to stay here forever.
The crunch of scraping rocks jolts me back to the present. I spin around and find Nanette standing there, her hand covering her mouth, her eyes bulging.
Our eyes lock and we stare at each other for a moment. Then she whirls around and runs off.
“Nanette!” I holler and start to chase her, but she doesn’t pause, and she’s faster than I am. I stop to catch my breath. A coldness surges through me, as though my blood has turned to ice water.
“Where will she go?” Jon asks, coming up behind me.
At first I can’t talk. My mouth opens, but my throat is dry. I swallow. “Straight to Father,” I rasp.
Jon comes around to face me. He frowns. “What will he do?”
I shrug. “Lock me in my room until I’m married, I guess.” I’m still trying to get a grip on my physical reaction. Now my hands are shaking, but my body feels numb.
“Celeste.” Jon suddenly reaches out both his hands and grabs mine. His eyes are wide. “Let’s leave right now. Together. Abigail will take us in too, I’m sure of it.”
I yank my hands away. “You can’t be serious.”
“I’ve never been more serious.” His hands are now clenched into fists at his sides.
“I can’t leave my family,” I tell him. “This is where I belong.”
“You’ll be leaving your family when you’re married, which will be soon. This is your chance to change the direction of your life.”
I just stare at him, trying to keep my balance. I’m feeling sicker by the minute.
“C’mon, Celeste. You know you don’t want this life.”
“I also know I cannot disgrace my family. That would kill me.”
“But being a sister wife with lots of babies won’t kill you? I don’t believe that.”
“Just because Colleen died doesn’t mean...”
“I don’t mean kill you physically. I mean it will kill your spirit. There will be no more rock men when you’re married, no more thinking outside the box. Your life will be identical to every other woman in Unity, a
nd I think you want more than that.”
“Jon, you don’t understand...”
“I understand perfectly. You care more about your family’s reputation than you do about yourself. But Celeste, I have to leave right now. When your father finds out who you were with, I will be banished anyway. I’m going to be gone before that happens. I want you to come with me.”
“Jon...”
“We need to leave now.”
“I can’t.”
He just stares at me.
“I’m so sorry.”
Jon’s expression has turned hard. I know he is disappointed in me, but he doesn’t understand what this would do to my father, my mother, my entire family. He makes one last attempt to convince me. “Come with me, Celeste, before it’s too late.”
I shake my head, panicky. “Please don’t go, Jon,” I plead. “My life will be empty without you.”
“I have no choice.”
I know he’s right, but I can’t face it.
He regards me some more. Finally he shrugs. “Goodbye, Celeste.” He turns and starts walking away from me, away from Unity.
“No, Jon! Wait!” I run up behind him and grab his hand. He turns, and I see tears in his eyes. He pulls his hand away and shakes his head. Then he starts walking again. He stumbles once but straightens himself, throws his shoulders back and does not turn around again.
I watch until he rounds a bend in the river and I can’t see him anymore.
JUST AS I knew he would, Father has ordered me to remain in the house. I have no problem with that. I have nowhere to go now anyway.
When he hauled me into his office after I returned from the beach, his anger was like a summer storm, a sudden crash of elements. The room was electrified by his fury, and I wanted to cower in a corner. But, unlike the aftermath of a summer storm, the air was not left freshened when it was over. It was full of tension, and the pain I felt was a physical ache, not because of the anger I caused my father but from the pain of losing Jon.
Father forbids me to join the family at the evening meal. I guess he wants to tell everyone what a disgraceful person I am, so I spend the afternoon and evening in the girls’ bedroom, flopped on Taviana’s cot, which has not yet been put away. Pulling the scratchy blanket over my shoulders, I wonder why she never complained. The cot sags in the middle, and the blanket is stiff. I’m tempted to lie on my own bed, but it reminds me too much of Nanette, my traitorous sister.
I flip onto my side. If Taviana were here, I could tell her about Jon and how we feel about each other. She would understand how confused I am—loving Jon but not being able to leave Unity. I could tell her how angry he seemed. She would find something to say to make me feel better, or she’d tell me a story and make me laugh...
AT BREAKFAST IT becomes clear that all the women know of my...my indiscretion, as Daddy called it. I get sour looks from Lena and Deborah. Nanette is avoiding me completely. I try to make eye contact with Pam, but she appears lost in her own little world, as always.
I take a tray of food up to Mother and find her resting in bed, staring into space.
“Celeste!” she says, clearly pleased to see me. This is a relief. I wondered if she, too, was going to give me the silent treatment. “Happy birthday!”
Her words startle me. I’d completely forgotten the date.
“Thank you. I’d...I’d forgotten.” I place the tray on the table beside her bed and sit down beside her.
“Will you bring Rebecca up to see me later?” she asks. “I want to wish her a happy birthday too.”
I nod.
She pulls herself up to a sitting position, and reaches for my hand. “I heard you got into a little trouble yesterday.”
Tears prick my eyes, and I blink them away. I decide to be honest with her. “I really...like him, and I don’t want to marry anyone else.”
She sighs and then squeezes my hand even tighter. “I liked a boy too, before your father.”
“You did?” This news shocks me.
“Well, I didn’t spend time alone with him, like I hear you did with your boy.” She tilts her head, studying my face. I look down at my hands, not willing to confess too much. “But we noticed each other, that’s for sure. I used to lie awake at night, thinking of him and wishing we could be together.”
“I’ve done that too.”
“I suspect most girls have a boy they dream about.”
I’m astounded to discover that I’m not the only one with impure thoughts, but then I remember my sister. I shake my head. “Not Nanette. She’s perfect.”
Mother laughs a little. “I doubt that. Though she certainly works hard at it.”
We sit in silence for a moment.
“But just because you like a boy, Celeste, doesn’t mean the Lord has it in His plan for you to be together. The man you’ll be assigned to will take care of you and provide you with a home. A mere boy could never do that.”
“I’d be happy to stay here. I’m not ready for children and sister wives.”
“Celeste,” she says softly, picking at a broken thread on her quilt. “It’s amazing how fast you’ll adjust. Change is hard, but you’re a wise girl, and you know that here we sacrifice our childish whims in order to obtain a place in God’s kingdom. You’ll find the happiness you long for in the heart of your new family.”
I’m watching my mother’s face as she speaks, and I notice that the haunting sadness of her eyes does not match her words. I also know that in her own way she’s telling me she won’t listen to any more talk about Jon.
“Eat your breakfast, Mother,” I tell her. “The baby needs his nourishment.”
“You think it’s going to be a boy?” she asks, reaching for a piece of toast.
“The last three were girls. A boy would balance things out.”
She nods. I wait quietly while she eats. I’d like to ask her more—how she felt when she was assigned to Daddy, how long it took Lena to accept her, and who the boy was that she longed for. I wonder if he still lives in Unity and if she ever thinks about him. But I remain silent, knowing that I would be asking too much of her.
When she’s finished eating, she slides back down into bed and I tuck the blankets around her.
“Are they giving you a rough time?” she asks.
“Pardon me?”
“Lena and Deborah.”
“Oh. That. Yeah, well, they’re letting me know they think I’m evil.”
“You’re not evil, Celeste.” She sighs. “And it’s your birthday. If I could, I’d get up and relieve you of some of your chores to give you a break.”
“I know you would.” I place my hand on hers.
She gets a dreamy look on her face. “I remember so clearly the day you were born. My first child. You were like a miracle to me—so tiny and precious. I wouldn’t let anyone else hold you or even change your diaper. I was too afraid they’d drop you or something.”
I smile at her, wishing I could remember when I was her only child. Now she’s expecting her eighth, and she’s just turning thirty-two.
“And now you’re fifteen, and the cycle continues. I wonder if my mother felt this way when her oldest daughter turned fifteen.”
“How do you feel?” I ask.
“Proud.” She smiles. “And sad that you won’t be living here much longer. But excited too, knowing we’re on the right path, heading toward the highest degree of celestial glory.”
“Speaking of chores,” I tell her, ignoring this religious talk, “I better get back at it. I’m in enough trouble around here.”
“How mad was your father?”
“Very.”
“He wants what is right for you, Celeste. That’s all.”
I simply nod, not wanting to aggravate her. But deep down, I now realize that what Daddy actually wants is what is right for him. Nobody ever asked me if being a celestial wife is right for me. If they had, I’d have told them no.
Chapter Fourteen
Taviana
Abig
ail studies me from her rocking chair. She reminds me of an overgrown bulldog who is especially grouchy about being woken in the middle of the night by a pesky intruder. I’m the intruder.
Jimmy brought me straight to Abigail’s Freedom House, as he calls it, after rescuing me off the street. He’d left me standing alone in the dark living room with my suitcase while he went to wake her up. It felt totally wrong, and I’d begged him to just let me sleep on the couch until morning, but he said that was against house rules, and no one dared break house rules. Abigail had lumbered into the room, tying the sashes of her housecoat around her thick waist, her long braid tousled from sleep. She’d switched on a couple of lamps, glanced at me with half-asleep eyes and then disappeared into the kitchen. I heard the sound of water running, possibly a kettle being filled, and a murmur of conversation with Jimmy, who’d followed her in there. When she came back into the living room, she’d motioned for me to sit on the couch, and she sank into the rocking chair.
Now she rubs her face with her hands in an attempt to come fully awake. When she finally speaks, her voice is weary. “Hello, Taviana.”
I nod.
“I’ve been expecting you.”
That startles me. “You have?”
She sighs heavily. “Yes, I have.”
“Why?”
She ignores my question but says, “I’m surprised you lasted there as long as you did.”
I find myself squirming in my chair. “I liked it there. It was safe.”
“You don’t have to live in Unity to be safe.”
“I did.”
“Only because you didn’t know you had other choices.”
I hear the whistling of a kettle. “Jimmy,” she says. He’s leaning against the doorjamb leading to the kitchen, arms crossed. “Make the tea, please.” Then she eyes me intently. “When was the last time you ate anything?”
I think about the pathetic cup of soup I had at the bus station, but before I can answer, she says, “Scramble up some eggs for her too.”
“Scrambled eggs, coming right up.”
He disappears into the kitchen and she settles herself into the chair. “Okay, from the beginning. Tell me how you got here.”
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