Sister Wife

by Shelley Hrdlitschka

  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

  CELESTE

  Ifeel 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.

  We sit in silence for a while. Then he asks, “Do you know where he is?”

  I shake my head and straighten my apron. I do know, but I’m not telling. Besides, it wouldn’t take much for him to figure it out anyway.

  I guess he knows that too. “If I did find him, do you think I could convince him to come home?” he asks me.

  Now I look directly at him. “No.”

  I see him slump in his chair. I know exactly what he’s going through.

  “Not even to see you?” he asks.

  I shake my head.

  “How do you feel about that?” he asks, finally.

  I simply shrug. I’m sure he knows the truth, that I’m as devastated as he is, but there’s no point in admitting my impure thoughts.

  “Celeste, I know what it’s like to be attracted to someone...someone that the Prophet hasn’t assigned to me,” Mr. Nielsson says quietly.

  I glance at him, shocked that he’d admit this to me. Shocked that he also has impure thoughts. His eyes don’t meet mine.

  We sit in silence. I want to say something, but the words don’t come. Then I hear the barn door creak open and my father’s footsteps stomping down the corridor.

  “I’ll tell your father that we’ve had a good discussion,” he whispers. “And if Jon somehow contacts you, or gets a message to you, please, Celeste, tell him how much we miss him.”

  Now our eyes do meet. I’m startled that he thinks I may hear from Jon.

  “Okay?” he asks.

  I simply nod, and Daddy storms into the room. “Well?” he demands.

  Mr. Nielsson gets to his feet. “Celeste has been very cooperative, Kelvin,” he says. “She’s remorseful about her role in the situation, and I know she will strive to be obedient in the future. I’ve accepted her apology.”

  Daddy glances from me to Mr. Nielsson. I also glance at Mr. Nielsson’s sad face, and my heart aches for him. I wonder if Jon considered what his actions would do to his family. Maybe he knew better than to think about it.

  That was my mistake.

  THE WEEK DRAGS on. I find it harder and harder to get myself out of bed each morning. Every movement becomes an effort, as if the air is water and I have to push my body through it. My legs are dead weight and I feel like I’m sinking. Thoughts of Jon are with me every minute of every day, but instead of bringing me pleasure as they once did, now they only bring me pain. I miss him more than I thought possible.

  Two evenings in a row the Prophet stopped by to visit Daddy. I saw him going into the barn and coming out about an hour later. When Daddy came into the house last night, he glanced at me. I couldn’t read the expression on his face, but there was something different there. He knows something.

  The Prophet has returned again this afternoon, but this time Martin Nielsson is with him. Daddy glances at me as he steps out the door. Does this have something to do with Jon? For the next half hour, my heart skitters around in my chest, wondering what they could be discussing. Mr. Nielsson’s presence in our barn hasn’t escaped Nanette’s attention either. She volunteered to pull weeds in the garden, a chore she usually despises. I watch as she glances at the barn, hoping, I suppose, to force some kind of encounter with him.

  This is not her lucky day. Daddy steps out of the barn, completely ignoring Nanette, and strides across the yard to the house. My stomach contracts and I feel a sudden and overwhelming need to relieve myself, but before I can, Daddy has reached the house and is ordering me to join him in his office. The last barn episode is still fresh in my mind as I force myself to follow behind him, but my legs are heavier than ever and each step is a huge effort. The sense of dread is overwhelming.

  Nanette and I make eye contact as I pass. Her eyebrows arch, but I can only shrug and continue on to the barn.

  As I step i
nto the office, the Prophet and Mr. Nielsson get to their feet. I feel Jon’s father studying me, and when I meet his eyes, he smiles a little. His face is sad, but the smile is kind. I decide I’m not in any new trouble.

  The Prophet clears his throat. “Celeste, I have received direction from the Heavenly Father. Your assignment for marriage has been determined.”

  Now my heart, which had been beating erratically, begins to pound with a hard and steady beat. If I hadn’t been so overwhelmed with grief these past few nights, I might have guessed at the reason for the Prophet’s visits. Daddy no doubt asked the Prophet to hurry my assignment after the incident with Jon, but why is Mr. Nielsson here?

  I glance at him, he cocks his head and the final puzzle piece slides into place. I feel all the blood rush from my head. The room goes black and starry, and I feel hands guiding me into a chair. When my vision returns, I look up to see all three men staring down at me.

  “Celeste,” Mr. Nielsson says. He’s wringing his clasped hands. “I am most pleased to accept you as my celestial wife. It will be my honor to welcome you into my family.”

  I’m numb.

  “Celeste,” Daddy says. “Where are your manners?”

  I open my mouth to speak, but there are no words. I simply shrug. I feel his eagle eyes on me.

  “The marriage will take place this Sunday,” the Prophet says.

  My head jerks up to stare at him. It’s unheard of for a marriage to take place so quickly. We should be given time to become acquainted.

  “It will be a brief private ceremony,” Daddy says. “Considering the trouble you’ve been in, we feel we should simply get it over with.”

  I am still too numb to respond. The room is quiet. Finally Mr. Nielsson speaks. “Sir,” he says, addressing the Prophet, “I seek permission to speak with Celeste, alone.”

  The Prophet nods. Daddy sighs deeply, and the two of them leave the room. I hear the door of the barn bang shut.

  Mr. Nielsson pulls a chair up so he’s facing me. He reaches out and takes both of my limp hands in his. “Celeste,” he says. “I know you’re troubled. I miss Jon too. But I promise to take good care of you and our children. I pray you will learn to love me, as you do my son.”

  I do not trust myself to say anything and continue to stare at my lap.

  “I am a gentle caring husband. I will never hurt you. My wives are good-hearted too. I believe you should count your blessings. Not all girls are so fortunate.”

  Perhaps I’m dreaming. This is just too unreal. Any minute now, I will wake from this nightmare, yet the gigantic lump in my throat feels all too real, and it threatens to suffocate me.

  “Let us pray together, Celeste,” he says.

  I bow my head further. It’s something that I can do.

  “Our Father, we give thanks for your direction in these matters. We are truly blessed. As your humble servants, we will continue to aspire to the highest degree of celestial glory. It is the ultimate privilege to be married under laws which honor the sacred principle of plural marriage. Amen.”

  There’s a pause, and I know he is waiting for me to say amen as well, but I am still without a voice.

  “Would you care to walk with me, Celeste?”

  I shake my head.

  “You know, Celeste, there are two ways you can go with this.” For the first time I detect a note of irritation in his voice. He lets go of my hands. “You can make it hard on yourself, or easy. Either way, the decision is made. You will be my wife. I suggest you go home and decide to be grateful, even joyous.” He pauses and then adds, “The Prophet had considered taking you for his own wife. That might not have been so pleasant for you.”

  Now my head snaps up. He nods. “But your father thought it would be more fitting if you were assigned to me.”

  A surge of anger instantly dissolves the lump in my throat. “But God decides who girls are assigned to!”

  Mr. Nielsson looks away. “For the most part He does, but sometimes it’s a little unclear and the wisdom of the elders is required to sort it out.”

  I think about that. “Daddy thought it more fitting that I be married to you? So who is being punished here? You or me?”

  “Why would I be punished, Celeste? I have done nothing wrong. And besides, I know you will make a lovely wife. This is God’s will.”

  “Unless the Prophet misunderstood God’s will.”

  He shrugs. “As I said, I think you need to count your blessings. Life would be much harder for you if you were married to the Prophet.”

  “Perhaps this is the Prophet’s way of punishing Jon,” I suggest. “Marrying me to his father.”

  Mr. Nielsson frowns. “I was warned that you had a vivid imagination, Celeste. And a rebellious streak.”

  Now I look away.

  “You are fifteen,” he continues, somewhat gruffly. “Your behavior with Jon reminds us that you are more than ready to become a wife. Despite your behavior, I am willing to take you.”

  I’m seeing a different side of this man. “The other day you told me you understood about being attracted to someone you are not assigned to.”

  “Indeed I did. What I was saying is that I know it happens. Acting on it is entirely different.”

  Who is this man? One moment he seems gentle and understanding, and the next he’s as rigid as the Prophet.

  “If you do not care to walk with me,” he says, getting up, “I guess I won’t see you until the ceremony. However, I welcome the opportunity to become better acquainted before then, so if you have a change of heart, have someone send me a message.”

  He turns to leave the room but swings around and regards me. Then he returns to stand in front of me. He leans over, takes my hands again and pulls me to my feet. The closeness between us makes me uncomfortable, and I take a step back. He takes a step forward and grips my shoulders with his hands. I try to step back again, but he holds me firm. Then he leans forward and presses his dry cracked lips onto mine. I feel nothing but revulsion and push him away. “We’re not married yet,” I tell him.

  He sighs. “You may be disappointed that I am not my son,” he tells me, “but I, too, am disappointed. I would’ve preferred to have your sister as my wife.”

  He turns and walks across the office but pauses at the door. “And between now and Sunday,” he says, turning to me, “it would be wise for you to take the lead from her and practice purity.”

  And then he’s gone.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Nanette

  I can feel the burning heat of the sun right through my dress, but I won’t go inside until I see Martin Nielsson come out of the barn. Daddy and the Prophet left a few minutes ago, but Celeste is still in there with him. What are they doing?

  I know I did the right thing when I told Daddy about Celeste and Jon, but I admit I didn’t consider what it would do to Mr. Nielsson’s family. I should have known that Jon would leave Unity. He couldn’t have stayed under the circumstances, but I heard Daddy’s wives talking about the terrible sadness it brought to his family. I didn’t mean to hurt them. It has also made Daddy permanently grouchy, and Celeste is more miserable now than ever. I’ve had a few moments of regret.

  I lean back over the sprouting carrots and continue thinning the rows. The image of Celeste with Jon keeps replaying in my mind. Their bodies were pressed so close together, and their kiss was...I have no words for it. It was like...like they were desperate for each other. Something stirred inside me when I saw them. At first I thought it was just shock and anger at their disobedience, but now I wonder if it was something else. My own daydreams with Martin Nielsson have changed, and now I have us kissing like that, but only after we are married, of course.

  I stand up when I hear the creak of the barn door. It’s Mr. Nielsson and he’s alone! He looks preoccupied, and he’s staring at the ground as he walks, but he’s heading this way. I quickly straighten my apron and wipe the sweat off my forehead with my handkerchief. He pushes the back gate open.


  “Hello, Mr. Nielsson.”

  He looks up, startled.

  “Oh, hello, Nanette,” he says. His cheeks redden. Why is he blushing? “You’re working in the garden, are you?”

  “Yes.”

  His eyes dart nervously around the yard. “I’ve just been...talking. With Celeste,” he says.

  “Oh.”

  He nods his head. “Are you keeping well?” “Yes, and you?”

  He sighs heavily. “My son Jon left Unity. I’m sure you heard. It has torn a huge hole in my heart.”

  “Oh. I’m sorry.”

  He just stands there, rocking from one foot to the other.

  “Is that why you were speaking with Celeste?”

  “Huh? Oh. No.” He’s blushing again.

  I wait, expecting him to explain.

  “You may have seen the Prophet here too,” he says.

  “Yes. He was with Daddy.”

  “Yes, well, he was here to talk to Celeste as well.”

  “Oh.”

  “But I suppose I should not be discussing this with you. I will let your father explain. I have a few more things I wish to discuss with him. Is he here?”

  “Yes, he’s still with the Prophet, inside. You should go around to the front of the house and someone will let you in.”

  “Thank you, Nanette.” He begins to walk away but swings around once more. “You are a lovely girl.”

  My face burns, but not from the sun. What do I say to that? You’re a lovely man? No. I simply say, “Thank you.” He smiles a little, nods and then walks off.

  I gather up my gardening tools. It was worth working in the blistering sun. Now I know for sure that Mr. Nielsson feels the same about me as I do about him. God will see it too and direct the Prophet to assign me to him. I know it. I have been good and obedient. I have practiced purity. My efforts will be rewarded. It will truly be a match made in heaven. But how will I ever wait another year?

  The barn door creaks open once more, and now I see Celeste coming toward the garden. Her shoulders are slumped, and she also stares at the ground as she walks, but then she always walks like that.