“To begin with, I’m not paying for Lillie’s house. She wanted to continue working during her pregnancy so that she can pay for her own, which leaves me free to plan and pay for yours and Beverly’s. Lillie insisted on it; the whole thing was her idea.”
I blinked, trying to follow his train of thought.
Verlan looked at me calmly, “I arranged for your lot last time I was here. The lumber for your roof is already ordered. The boys and I will break ground first thing in the morning.”
“Break ground? Tomorrow? Tomorrow?”
Verlan grinned. “I wanted it to be a surprise. I had it all planned out, see. I was going to take you out there to the lot and make a ceremony of it. But it seems that didn’t work out,” he chuckled. “Oh well. This was more fun anyway, don’t you think?”
I stared at Verlan, his words beginning to make sense. A house. My house. Verlan was building me a house. Standing up, I dumped James back onto the couch. I ran to Verlan and flung myself into his arms.
“Oh, Verlan,” I whispered against his chest, “How could I have thought . . . You do care, don’t you? You don’t love Lillie more than me. You’re the fairest man in the whole world, and I was such a little idiot to doubt you. My own house? Oh, Verlan, can you ever forgive me for being so mean?”
He threw back his head and laughed. “Mean? You? My little charm, you don’t have a mean bone in that cute body of yours. To tell you the truth, I rather enjoyed your version of meanness. I like it when your eyes snap like blue fire and you toss that golden hair. It’s enough to make me—”
I didn’t hear the rest of his sentence. His words were consumed by my lips.
For the next five days Verlan and the boys worked steadily on the foundations to Beverly’s and my houses. They dug dirt, hauled rock, and poured cement before Verlan had to leave again. Then our new foundations sat untouched for weeks, while the walls to Lillie’s house steadily took shape. Beverly and I tried to understand.
“It’s because Verlan’s broke again, and Lillie has her own money,” Beverly concluded. “That must be the answer.”
“Oh, I’m sure it is.” I took another sip of Beverly’s brand of “coffee.” “Do you know, Beverly, Lillie’s gone out of her way to be so nice to me every time she comes. She stopped by my trailer a few weeks ago and said that when she moves down she plans to share her car with me. She said that I could consider half the car as mine. I didn’t know what to say.”
Beverly grunted, “Well, say yes! That way you can loan your half to me, and we’ll all have a car.”
I chuckled, then immediately sobered. “Oh, Lillie puts on a selfless act, all right. But before long she’ll be down here with the rest of us, demanding a lion’s share of Verlan’s time. She’ll be moved into her fancy house and have everything just so-so before a single adobe is laid on our foundations. Watch it happen, Beverly.”
I was halfway right. The rainy season began, the heavy fall rains pouring down on our bare foundations, while the men steadily worked on Lillie’s house. They wore rain slickers and stepped gingerly about on the roof as they pounded in the nails. Lillie’s baby was due soon. They would have to hurry if she was to be moved in by then.
As the weeks passed, a constant loneliness for Verlan consumed me; loneliness that Irene and Beverly’s company didn’t begin to diminish. When would the enormous hole in my heart be filled? Would the time ever come when we could be a real family? Was this day-by-day existence what I could expect for the rest of my life? Where was the excitement and romance I had anticipated as the wife of a leader in God’s church? We were supposed to be an army for the Lord, and yet babies, dirty diapers, backbreaking work, and never enough money to go around were the lot of a polygamist’s wife. All around me were poverty-stricken homes filled with lonely women and children, living for the scattered moments when our husbands could find time for a hurried visit home. And yet the time Verlan spent at home was the most frustrating time of all. Knowing that Verlan was close, yet sleeping in another wife’s bed only blocks away, was the purest form of torture. The irony of it all was the fact that when he was with me, I felt sorry for the others.
Early one October afternoon Verlan’s pickup pulled into Los Molinos closely followed by Lillie’s car. The truck was loaded high with furniture. They stopped at Charlotte’s long enough to collect her two boys. Then they drove on to Lillie’s and unloaded the truck.
An hour later Verlan dashed into my trailer. Quickly pressing his lips against mine, he said, “I don’t have time to stay and visit right now, sweetie. I want you at Lucy’s in half an hour. We’re having a family meeting.”
At the scheduled time I knocked on Lucy’s door and followed her into her cramped, cluttered living room. Glancing around, I looked for a place to sit. Charlotte and Lucy had pulled up kitchen chairs and were quietly visiting together. Beverly and Irene shared the sofa, and they scooted over to make room for me.
As I sat down, Irene nudged me in the ribs, then casually inclined her head toward a corner of the room. Ester stood with her back to the group, loftily refusing to waste a glance on any of us. I nodded, amazed, as Irene was, that Verlan had managed to convince Ester to come at all.
Lillie slowly rocked back and forth in Lucy’s rocking chair, and when I glanced at her, her blue eyes met mine. She smiled and said hello. I nodded and smiled, forcing myself to return her greeting. From the look on her face, she was nervous around so many of Verlan’s wives. Living in Los Molinos was going to be a change for her.
Verlan paced until everyone was quiet, then he cleared his throat. “Girls, I want us to have a special family dinner this evening. I’ve brought an ice chest full of chicken and other goodies, and once the meeting’s over, I want you all to get to work and cook up a feast.”
He waited for our nods, then continued, “Now, the reason I’ve called you all together is to let you know I’ve arranged to stay right here at home for six weeks. That’s why we’re having the dinner, so we can celebrate.”
“Oh, Verlan!” Irene and Lucy exclaimed in unison. “Six weeks? Six whole weeks?”
Verlan grinned, nodded, and continued. “Now, during this time, I plan to get Beverly’s and Susan’s houses built. I don’t have the money to hire the work done, so we’ll have to do it ourselves. We’ll need to get organized and work together. Make a family project of it. Anyone have any suggestions?”
We women looked at one another. Then Lucy spoke up. “The older kids won’t be much good now that school’s started. And Susan and I have nursing babies. So I suggest that the two of us stay home and take care of the other wives’ kids, which will leave them free to help you with the building. Susan and I can do laundry and cook for the other girls, too.”
“Well, Lillie can’t be doing much, of course,” Charlotte snapped. “And Beverly’s not up to hard labor. She’s pregnant, too, and it won’t do.” Charlotte threw a meaningful glance at Ester’s coolly averted face, then she looked back to Verlan in an unspoken message. “So I guess that leaves Irene and me to be your helpers. The boys can work in the afternoons and on weekends.”
“I can help, too, Verlan,” I broke in. “There’s no reason why I can’t leave my kids with Beverly and go home for a half hour at nursing times.”
Irene chuckled. “Personally, I’ll be glad to get out of the housework. Slinging mud sounds nice for a change. Lucy’s welcome to do my wash and housecleaning. Oh, and my cooking.”
Verlan grinned at her and ruefully shook his head. “Then it’s settled. First thing tomorrow morning I want Charlotte, Irene, and Susan ready to go to work. We’ll start making adobes out on that vacant lot past Charlotte’s. I figured there would be more left over from the ones made for Lillie’s house, but there aren’t near enough. Once the bigger boys are out of school, they can come and help. Now, about the dinner tonight. Irene, will you make the pies?”
“I’ll make a dozen if Susan’ll help me.”
I nodded.
The rest of the menu was discussed and the work was divided, with everyone offering to help but Ester. Then the women stood and headed for the door.
I glanced back at Lucy’s house as Irene, Beverly, and I hurried away. The back door opened and Ester slipped out. She looked small and alone as she scuttled across the field. Suddenly I felt sorry for her.
That evening Verlan sat at the head of the table and looked proudly down at the long lines of his offspring seated on either side of him. Their ages ranged from seventeen years to three months. The freshly scrubbed faces showed anticipation as their mothers served the special meal and tried to keep a serenity and order.
For the first time in several years Verlan’s whole family other than Verlan Jr. and Chad, who were in San Diego, were together for a family dinner. Of course, the family was larger than the last time its members were together. We had grown a lot in the past four years. There were twenty-seven children with just Charlotte’s, Irene’s, and Lucy’s. With Ester’s four, Beverly’s three, and my two, that made thirty-six. Lillie’s baby was due in a few weeks. Every one of Verlan’s children was mentally bright, and reasonably handsome; his wives were loving and loyal. He had a lot to be proud of; God had richly blessed him.
Now, if Verlan could get Beverly and me into sturdy homes of our own, he would finally have things under control. Each of his seven families would be living in the same town, with each of us in our own home. Verlan’s longtime dream was at last becoming a reality. One day soon he would find a way to support us, right here on the Baja peninsula, where he could stay at home. He would let the younger men of the church do the biggest part of the field missionary work. He would actually be able to breathe, to slow down and live like a normal man.
The evening went by in a flash of noisy activity. Once the meal was over and the mountain of dishes was done, Verlan gave each of his wives, along with their smallest children, a ride home. Passing out goodnight kisses at each stop, he headed back to Lucy’s for the night. Once my children were settled, I fell into bed, completely worn out by the excitement of the day.
As Verlan had requested, Charlotte, Irene, and I were at the vacant lot west of Charlotte’s place by sunup the next morning.
“We’ll dig a mixing hole right here,” Verlan announced, pointing with his toe as he passed the shovels around. Lifting a pick high over his head, he plunged it into the soil.
The ladies and I glanced at one another and awkwardly fingered the tools in our hands. “Well, just like he said, we may as well get started,” I said grimly. Sinking my shovel into the loosened earth behind Verlan, I lifted the dirt, turned it, and slapped it back down again. On either side of me, Charlotte and Irene began to do the same.
By the time we had a circle of earth twelve feet in diameter and a foot deep loosened, my back ached and my hands were raw. In this “mixing hole” we would blend dirt, straw, and water into mud for the adobes. As we needed more dirt for mud, the size of the hole would increase.
Once the loosening of the soil was done, Verlan straightened and wiped the sweat from his brow. “Susan and Irene, you girls finish scooping this dirt out while Charlotte and I go haul water and straw. We won’t be gone long. Come on, Charlotte.”
As they hurried toward the pickup, Irene leaned on her shovel and glared after them. “Just as I thought,” she snapped contemptuously. “Charlotte’s right at his elbow. She’ll do the running around with him and keep her hands clean, while we stay here like good little wives and slave away. No, sir! I’m not going to put up with it; I just won’t. He’s going to be fair or I won’t help.”
For the next couple of days, in spite of Irene’s complaints, Charlotte rode with Verlan each time there was a load of something to be hauled. Irene scowled and griped about it, and periodically threatened to quit, but each morning she came to the work site and outworked the rest of us. She never hesitated to roll up her pant legs, climb barefoot into the mixing hole, and stomp and stir the huge amount of dirt, straw, and water into mud for the adobes. Then using a shovel, she slapped the muddy mixture into the wooden adobe frames, scraping and patting the mud flat with her bare hands. Lifting the mold clear, she left perfectly formed adobes on the field to dry.
One morning after Charlotte and Verlan returned from hauling a load of straw, Verlan stood over our work, carefully scanning the rows of adobes. “Beautiful! Just beautiful. Charlotte, look at all these adobes. Irene does a good job, doesn’t she? And so fast!” He winked at me and drawled, “Maybe I should pass the word around and hire her out.”
Irene straightened up, wiped her muddy hands on her pants, threw a scathing glance at Charlotte, and retorted, “One thing’s for certain, Verlan. I’m the only wife here who would be worthy of her hire.” Charlotte glared back at Irene, then shrugged, turned on her heel and walked to the pickup.
Each day, Lucy, Beverly, and Lillie took turns preparing our lunch and bringing it to the work site. Our break time was always brief. Verlan, never one to waste a precious minute, would hustle us back to work hardly before we swallowed our last bite. “Okay, okay, let’s stop fooling around and get this show on the road,” he would holler.
At nursing times, Charlotte drove me to Beverly’s to attend the baby. Verlan ignored my insistence that I was fully capable of driving myself. Although it angered and insulted me that he didn’t trust me to drive his pickup, my anger was colorless in comparison to Irene’s.
“Dearest Charlotte’s the only one with brains enough to drive Verlan’s truck, don’t you know,” she growled sarcastically. “Don’t waste your breath arguing with him about it. I’ve tried. Believe me, I’ve tried.”
I nodded, knowing she’d tried. I had heard her try numerous times, to no avail. Verlan remained adamant. Charlotte was his right arm, and Irene and I both might as well accept it. Charlotte was careful not to flaunt her position. She coolly carried out her privileged duties, with only an occasional superior sniff.
Each afternoon when the older boys arrived to help, it surprised and annoyed me how much their father snapped and yelled at them. I’d never seen this side of Verlan, the side that wasn’t loving and affectionate. As the days wore on, it became evident that Verlan had little patience for his children and that being around so many of them on a continual basis made him nervous and ill-tempered. Even in his various homes, I noticed for the first time how quickly he greeted the kids, then practically shoved them aside, or out the door, in order to spend time with one of his wives behind a closed bedroom door. I wondered if having him home full-time would be different, or if he felt extra pressure because of our tight schedule.
Within ten days, Irene, Charlotte, and I working steadily at Verlan’s side made enough adobes for both houses. Verlan hounded us like a slave driver, pushing us to hurry as he anxiously watched the sky, hoping the autumn rains had indeed quit for the season so that the adobes, at last drying in the field, would have a chance to mature. We were in luck. Each day dawned bright and cold, with few clouds. “There’s no doubt in my mind that the Lord’s behind this project, girls,” Verlan declared as we surveyed the huge lot of adobes. “I’m feeling better and better about the time I took off from work to do this. It was the right thing to do.”
Once the earthen bricks were completely dry, we loaded them into the pickup and hauled load after backbreaking load to the building sites. Then followed the actual building of the houses.
The walls of Beverly’s house were slowly constructed, with Verlan and Irene laying the bricks, while Charlotte, the boys, and myself kept them in supplies. Once the adobes were up, the roof trusses and the windows and doors in place, Verlan had two of Brother Castro’s sons pour the cement floor. Meanwhile, we moved our equipment down the road to my new lot. The building process began all over again.
Early one morning, Irene came by my trailer.
“Lillie’s finally in labor,” she informed me. “She’s had contractions since midnight. Verlan said we’ll take a break for the day.”
“Who’s with her?”
Irene turned to the stove and dipped a fork into my fry pan of sizzling diced potatoes, speared one, blew on it, and popped it into her mouth. “Charlotte and Verlan,” she mumbled. “So is Jeannine. I offered to stay and help, but Verlan told me to go home. Said they didn’t need me.”
I glanced sympathetically at Irene. Even in the dim, predawn light in my trailer I could see that her eyes were swollen. “Oh, well,” she sniffed, “just as long as Verlan has Mrs. LeBaron at his side, everything’s under control.”
She popped another piece of potato in her mouth and chewed thoughtfully. “I can’t help it, Sue, it gripes me to death. Charlotte’s always the one he counts on! The only time he turns to me is if he’s short a strong back to haul a wheelbarrow of sand for one of his wives’ new homes. Good ol’ Irene, always available for the dirty work.”
“That’s not true, and you know it,” I retorted swiftly. “He counts on you all the time. He’d be lost without you. You’ve worked harder than any of us, and you lay adobes better than he does.”
She snorted and headed for the door. “Well, he can forget about me helping him anymore on the houses. I won’t do it. He can just have Charlotte finish up the damn work. I’m gonna stay home with my kids and keep my wash done up,” The trailer door slammed shut behind her.
I sighed, turned off the stove, and crawled back into bed. Irene didn’t mean it; she was only spouting off, but I didn’t blame her for feeling left out and taken for granted. And now, with Charlotte being the one Verlan had asked to deliver Lillie’s baby, I could understand her pain. Verlan’s constant dependence on his first wife would naturally get on his second wife’s nerves. It angered me, as well, but I felt differently about it than Irene did. Charlotte was Irene’s competition, while mine would be giving birth shortly.
Favorite Wife Page 40