Favorite Wife

by Susan Ray Schmidt

  I wondered if Ervil had told her about his courtship of me. I shuddered. It was a miracle that it wasn’t me living here. If Ervil had apprised her of me, she didn’t mention it.

  “Lorna, why are you living here instead of in Los Molinos or Colonia Le­Baron?” I finally asked.

  She shrugged and pursed her lips, her voice light, “Ervil’s always traveling back and forth between San Diego and Los Molinos, and he wants a place halfway in between where he can rest. He has plans to start a business in Los Molinos soon and will need to take care of the paperwork for it here in Ensenada.” Her hazel-blue eyes suddenly snapped defensively, “I offered to live here, Susan. He didn’t ask me to.”

  I stared into my cup and quickly changed the subject. We visited for an hour, catching up on each other’s lives. As Lorna talked, I was amazed at her selflessness, and by her faith in Ervil. She firmly believed he was a godly man, and she lived for the meager time he afforded her.

  As the sun began to lower over the ocean, I reluctantly walked home. Lorna was nothing short of an inspiration, I decided, and I determined that I would go often, in Ervil’s absence, to see her. It was absolutely beyond me how Lorna could love him, but she did. For her sake, I prayed as I walked that Ervil would become the husband and the man that his families and the church needed.

  I was soon to find out that Verlan’s home in Ensenada served as a halfway house for many of the church members who lived in Los Molinos. Most of the men who had settled in Los Molinos worked in the San Diego area and made the seven-hour trip on the weekends to see their families. Since Ensenada was about halfway, many of them stopped here to rest, eat, or visit. Often the men had family members with them. Occasionally they arrived in the middle of the night, and Lucy bedded people down throughout the house.

  One night in late November the Prophet Joel pulled into the yard in his pickup and camper. The roar of his engine woke me, and I peeked out the window. At first I thought he was Verlan when I saw his lanky form climb from the pickup, and my heart began racing with excitement. But as he walked in front of the truck, I could tell by the headlights that it was Joel. Two of his six wives were with him, Jeannine and Kathy, who lived in Los Molinos.

  They knocked on the front door of the big house, and had no sooner entered, than another car parked behind Joel’s pickup. The woman driver followed the others inside.

  I dressed, and entered the side door of the house. Lucy was heating up the leftovers from supper, and she threw me a warm smile. “Hi! Will you help me get this food ready? Joel and some of his family are here. Slice that bread, would you?”

  I could hear voices in the living room, and suddenly the young woman I had seen in the second car entered the kitchen. She smiled and said, “Hi, Susan. Remember me?”

  “Lillie!” I shrieked, dropping the bread knife. “Lillie LeBaron! Boy, have you changed!”

  “You have, too,” her laughter rang. “It’s been five or six years, hasn’t it?”

  Lillie was a stepdaughter to the Prophet Joel. She was Jeannine’s oldest daughter from her prior marriage, and she’d lived in Colonia LeBaron years ago. We’d been fast friends when we were small. I hugged her, then held her away from me and looked her over. She was my height, but slender as a willow. Beautiful, dark blue eyes with curly black lashes dominated her face. Dimples dipped into her cheeks on either side of smiling lips. Softly curled brown hair puffed around her shoulders. Clinging seductively to her slight frame was a tailored, dark blue pantsuit, beneath which peeked the toes of black patent leather shoes. Her appearance was the epitome of perfection. The long drive from San Diego hadn’t even wrinkled her clothes.

  She stared back at me, smiling, taking in my disheveled attire. Suddenly I felt dowdy and tomboyish in my faded jeans. I reached up and self-consciously smoothed my hair, wishing I had taken the time to put on fresh, feminine clothes.

  “So, you’re a married woman, huh?” she chuckled. “How do you like it? Talk to me! I want to hear all about it.”

  I turned and began to slice bread as I filled Lillie in on my wedding details. Her mother, Jeannine, came into the kitchen to say hello and sat at the table to join us. Soon the Prophet Joel and his younger wife, Kathy, wandered in and pulled up chairs. In minutes we were all comfortably visiting. Lucy set bowls of soup on, and our visitors began eating their midnight supper.

  Seldom, other than in church meetings, had I the opportunity to be around Joel. He sat with a kitchen chair turned backward between his Levi-clad legs. Resting his arms on its back, he held his soup bowl in his hands. The sleeves of his plaid shirt were rolled to his elbows, showing spots of black grease between the golden hair on his forearms. Strands of thin, red-gold hair hung over his broad forehead, and he tiredly wiped them into place. His homely face appeared tired, his deep-set eyes circled with smudges.

  “Lucy, I didn’t think that old truck was going to make it,” he mumbled between bites. “I’ll take it into Ensenada in the morning. See if I can get José over at Venzon’s to have a look at it.”

  He turned to Jeannine. “You girls might as well ride on down to Los Molinos with Lillie, don’t you think? There’s no sense in you having to sit around tomorrow, waiting on the truck. If it’s the alternator, it will take most of the day.”

  “Now, darling, I will just wait with you,” Jeannine said firmly. “Kathy can go on down with Lillie if she wants, but I’m staying with you.”

  Joel looked at his younger, blond and pregnant, wife. “Honey, what do you want to do?”

  Kathy smiled at Joel and squeezed his knee. “I’ll wait too,” she grinned. “Jeannine’s not having you to herself.”

  “Whatever,” Jeannine seemed unruffled as she shrugged her shoulders. “We may as well stick together. Lillie, I don’t like the thought of you driving all that way alone. Why don’t you stay too and caravan with us once the pickup’s fixed?”

  Lillie considered. “I only have five days of vacation left. I would rather go on down, in a way. But, then, it would give Susan and me a chance to get to know one another again.”

  “Yes! Do stay, Lillie!” I exclaimed. “We could do something fun.”

  “Okay, I’ll stay,” she grinned.

  “Bring your things out to my trailer,” I suggested. “The bed’s not real comfortable, but the company’s great.” I giggled and moved to the door. “Goodnight, everyone.”

  As Lillie stood to follow me, Joel eyed us both. “You know,” he drawled, “I had a feeling you two would become friends again.”

  I stared at him, surprised. Joel—thinking about me? When? What had made him think of Lillie and me renewing our old friendship? That was weird . . .

  “It’s going to be great having you here, Susan,” Lillie was saying as we walked to my trailer. “I go to Los Molinos pretty often to see Mom and the kids, and I always stop here at Lucy’s. What do you want to do tomorrow?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. What’s there to do around here?”

  “We could go downtown and go shopping! Ensenada is so much fun. We could go out to eat and to an early movie. What do you think?”

  I lit the lamp in the trailer before answering her. “Maybe we better just stay here,” I said quietly. “We could stay here and talk, or . . .”

  “Talk!” she scoffed. “Talk? We’ll talk tonight. Let’s do something fun tomorrow! We don’t want to stay around here, with a town like Ensenada so close! Let’s go to a movie.”

  I sat and slowly removed my shoes, lowering my eyes so Lillie couldn’t see my embarrassment.

  “I’m paying your way, so you don’t have to worry about the money,” she said lightly.

  “Oh, no!” I stammered, “Now, Lillie, I’m not taking money from you, so forget it.” She was smart and sensitive, and my insides cringed with shame at not being in the position to carry my own weight.

  “Susan
Ray, I’m paying your way!” she insisted. “We’ll have a blast. I’ve got a good job and lots of money, so don’t worry about it. Shopping, then dinner and a movie?”

  “Uh, okay,” I agreed faintly.

  We visited for hours. Lillie told me about her job in San Diego at a print shop, and about a gorgeous fellow worker she had a crush on. “He’s so neat,” she sighed. “It’s too bad he’s a Gentile. He’s really pretty wild; he even drinks beer. He asked me out once, but I was afraid to go. I was afraid he would try something. You know how immoral men of the world are.”

  I agreed. Of course, I didn’t personally know, but I had heard plenty. We talked on and on, and it was early morning before we slept.

  We rested until noon, then dressed in our fanciest clothes and left for downtown Ensenada. Pointing out the tourist attractions, Lillie confidently drove through the narrow, crowded streets. Finally parking along the main tourist drag, she announced, “This is where we want to look around.”

  She looked chic and sophisticated in her yellow pantsuit. As we meandered in and out of the little shops I could tell that the native men, who lounged around against the buildings, admired her. I admired her, too. She had her own car, an exciting job, and lots of money to spend. She was free and happy, and more and more as the day passed, I envied her.

  We stopped at a seaside restaurant and ordered shrimp. It was my first time trying shrimp, and I was surprised at how delicious they were. Then we drove to the theater and both cried through Romeo and Juliet.

  The town was bathed in twilight shadows as we hurried toward the car. “Oh, heck.” Lillie groaned, “I hope Daddy’s not mad. I didn’t realize the show would be so long! They’re probably all waiting at Lucy’s for me, so we can drive down to Los Molinos tonight.”

  “Does Joel get mad at you?” I queried. I couldn’t imagine the Prophet losing his temper! He seemed much too spiritual and in control.

  Lillie grinned and threw me a sidelong glance. “He’s human, you know,” she said. “He doesn’t really get mad, but you can tell.”

  “Does he seem like your real dad?” I asked presently.

  Lillie stopped for a traffic light, then glanced at me again. “I love him as much as though he were my real dad. I respect him more than any man I know. I feel so blessed, Susan. More than you can imagine, to be raised by him. He’s so good to me, and he treats me like he does his other kids.” She shrugged. “I wish he was my real father, but it doesn’t matter. He is, in every way that counts.”

  We drove on, and after a lengthy, thoughtful silence, Lillie said, “You know, it’s going to be tough for me to find a husband. I won’t settle for just anyone, after having Daddy’s example around. Whomever I marry will have to be as dedicated to the Lord as he is. I couldn’t stand for my husband to be less.”

  I glanced at Lillie. She looked soft and lovely under the neon lights. She was so sure of herself and so wise. She liked to have fun, yet she was spiritually strong and knew what she wanted in life. I felt lucky to have her for a friend.

  I leaned back and thought over the events of the past two days. Life as a married woman, from now on, wouldn’t be so lonely. I had two new friends to spend time with—Lorna and Lillie. I hated to see Lillie and the others leave. She assured me that she would stop again on her way back to San Diego.

  It was the middle of December before we heard from Verlan again. He sent each of his wives a letter, hand delivered by Charlotte. They had all been sent to her address in San Diego, all placed together in a big manila envelope. It was hard for us to get our mail through the postal service, as it required a trip to the post office in Ensenada, and we didn’t have a car. As Charlotte sorted through the letters and handed mine to me, her face was impassive.

  “Dear one,” my letter read, “I hope you won’t feel too bad, but I can’t go down to see you this time. Ervil’s here, and tomorrow he and I plan to go on a two-week mission to Utah. He’s making an effort to get along with Joel and me, and I feel it’s important to spend some time with him. Please understand. I will see you at Christmas. Don’t ever doubt my love for you, sweetheart. I miss you more than you know.”

  The day before Christmas Verlan arrived, the car loaded with Christmas goodies for the children. As usual, the whole household ran outside to greet him, and he hugged and kissed everyone in turn.

  “My, it’s good to be home!” he shouted, tossing baby Norine up into the air then handing her to Lucy. “Now don’t any one of you look in the car. Laura, I mean it! Close that door. All of you go on back into the house and give me a chance to hide this stuff. Lucy, you and Charlotte stay, and grab those bags. Take them into your bedroom, Lucy, and lock the door. You kids, go on, now.”

  Verlan herded the group of reluctant children into the house, chuckling as they begged him to give them just a peek. Then Verlan turned to the wives and waving said, “I’m going to go and see Beverly for a few minutes.”

  He sauntered into the backyard. I watched him go, thrilled that he was home but aching because I knew that he would leave again. Besides, I had spent the last night with him, when he was home a month ago. Unless he stayed for four full days, I wouldn’t get a night with him again.

  I stood back and watched as Charlotte and Lucy obediently filled their arms with bulging paper bags. They carted them into the house, laughing together. I envied their easy relationship, and I wondered why Charlotte was so accepting of Lucy. She seemed to enjoy Lucy’s company, and yet she still hardly said a word to me.

  After the children were in bed, Verlan, Charlotte, Lucy, and I prepared their Christmas sacks. My job was to write a child’s name in large letters at the top of the paper sack, then hand the sack to Charlotte, who put oranges, apples, and a bit of candy in it. Then Verlan would place a toy or a game, whatever he had picked out for the child, in the top of the sack. Lucy took the sack from Verlan and tied a ribbon around the top, then hid it back in her bedroom, to be brought out in the morning.

  It was a different sort of Christmas than I had ever seen. We waited until breakfast was over Christmas morning, then Verlan placed all the sacks on the dining room table. The kids lined up, smallest to biggest, and Verlan handed each one his/her sack, soundly kissing each cheek. The other wives and I waited, with Beverly among us, and watched Verlan play Santa Claus. After the last sack had been handed out, Verlan ran to Lucy’s bedroom. He emerged after a moment with four more sacks. “These are for you girls,” he grinned. “I know it’s not much, but I wanted you to have something. Merry Christmas, loved ones.” He handed each wife a paper bag, kissing us in turn.

  I held mine for a moment without opening it. This had been the strangest Christmas of my life. We hadn’t gotten a tree or decorated the house, nothing but these sacks. But everyone seemed thrilled and happy, the kids squealing over their toy and candy.

  I watched as Lucy eagerly opened her extra large sack, a broad grin creasing her features. “Well, I’m happy with my gift, thank you, Verlan.” She pulled a huge, blue kettle from the sack, big enough to make soup for an army. With a sly grin on her face, she looked at Verlan. “You remembered,” she crowed.

  Standing next to me, Charlotte opened her sack, glanced inside and smiled. “Thank you, Verlan,” she said as she closed the top again. She didn’t even allow me a peek, and I frowned. She was always so secretive and superior!

  Beverly was next in line. She took her sack, smiled as Verlan kissed her, and walked out the door to her house. Well! I thought, dismayed. She’s being just as secretive as Charlotte!

  I didn’t care who saw mine. I pulled the ribbon from my sack and glanced inside, then retrieved a plastic-covered white blanket with huge pink roses. Beneath the blanket Verlan had placed apples, oranges, and Christmas candy.

  “I hope you like it,” Verlan grinned. “I wanted to give you something useful.”

  “Thank you, Verlan,” I echo
ed the others. I tore the plastic off the blanket and ran my hand over the fluffy material. At least it wasn’t a kettle, like Lucy’s. I would have preferred perfume or a new nightgown, but at least he hadn’t forgotten me.

  Lucy, Charlotte, and I made a turkey dinner, with potatoes, gravy, and salad. There were pies and a soda pop for dessert. After the meal we gathered in the living room, where Verlan told us the story of Christmas. The children’s eyes were glued to their father’s face as he related the details of Jesus’ birth.

  “Soon, kids—soon He will come again. It will be during your Uncle Joel’s lifetime, so you all will be here. You need to live your lives worthy of receiving Him. You are some of the most blessed of God’s children—born under the Covenant. My constant prayer is that you will conduct your lives as such. You are my pride and joy, and I thank God for every one of you.”

  After Verlan’s talk, we played games until bedtime. Then Verlan walked me to my trailer to say goodnight, followed me inside and waited while I lit the lamp. “Sweetheart, I want to give you your other gift now,” he said, reaching into his pocket. “It’s not a Christmas gift, exactly, but it’s high time you had one of these.” He opened a tiny black box and removed a wide, gold ring from the silk lining. Lifting my hand, he kissed it, then slid the ring on my finger.

  “Oh!” I gasped, my eyes widening. I held my hand out to admire the ring, then throwing my arms around Verlan’s neck, I covered his face with quick, smacking kisses. “Oh, I love it,” I said breathlessly.

  He pulled back a bit, an amused expression flitting over his face. Suddenly he chuckled. “You are charming, do you know that?” Slipping his arms around my waist, he whispered against my hair. “I adore you, my little charm. Thank you for marrying me.”

  I melted against him, squeezing back happy tears. He was so good, and I was so lucky to be his wife. I was really beginning to feel married, at last.