Wife Number Seven

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Wife Number Seven Page 12

by Melissa Brown


  When I turned, Rebecca’s eyes met mine and her smile disappeared, her lips pressing together so tightly the skin above them turned white. The warmth in her eyes froze to form daggers meant only for me.

  The woman who had sobbed in my arms was no longer my sister, no longer my friend.

  She was my enemy.

  And it broke my heart.

  • • •

  After hours of completing my own chores around the house—laundry, yard work, and assisting Clea, Lehi’s fifth wife, in the kitchen for lunch—I was ready to retire to my room to rest when I remembered the list from Brenda. Taking a deep breath, I mentally prepared for a few more chores.

  I swept the garage, organized the toys in the common area, and ironed her daughters’ cotton dresses. When I brought them to the girls’ rooms, I sighed. Their normally tidy rooms were destroyed, whether by their own doing or by the hyper boys who were playing hide-and-seek earlier in the house. Whatever the reason, I didn’t want Brenda to come home to this mess. I rolled up my sleeves and made their beds, straightened their desks, and emptied their garbage cans.

  Before finishing, I returned to the garage, retrieved a simple glass vase from the shelf, and walked to our backyard where a small patch of flowers grew. I picked several flowers, added water to the vase, and took them to Brenda’s room. The bright flowers brightened the somber air of her bedroom, and I knew they would make her smile. I contemplated leaving a note, but decided against it. It wasn’t important for her to know who left the flowers, only that someone had remembered her.

  Grateful that this evening was not to be shared with Lehi, I retreated to my room and flopped on my bed, staring out at the sun as it slowly disappeared behind the mountains in the distance.

  My eyelids were fluttering, my body exhausted from the day, when I heard my name. Rising up on my elbow, I stared out my open window, wondering if my brain was playing tricks on me.

  “Brin,” came the voice again, this time slightly louder and higher in pitch.

  Porter.

  As I hopped up from the bed, adrenaline coursed through my veins. Porter, a sly grin on his face, was standing beneath my window, a baseball cap on his head, hiding his face. But I’d know that smile anywhere. His blond hair poked out from beneath the cap.

  “What are you doing here?” I whispered down to him, fighting the smile that crept across my face.

  “I had to see you. Can I come up?”

  “No!” I screeched, then lowered my voice. “Of course not!”

  “C’mon, Brin. Relax, I can do it. It’s easy.”

  Paranoia took my brain hostage and I glanced left and right, looking for anyone who might see us. But Porter was hidden behind the large wall of our property. Lehi was spending the evening with Leandra, and I was certain she was keeping him busy with her complaints.

  I had missed Porter. Terribly. Not just his touch but his humor, his kindness, the way he understood everything I was going through.

  “Okay, fine,” I called out softly. “But be careful.”

  Porter rolled up his sleeves and climbed the tree that grew just a few feet from the side of the house. I watched him in awe, wondering where he’d learned to climb like that; he made it look easy.

  “Move out of the way, I have to jump the rest of the way,” he said, clutching the branch that reached as close to the house as he was going to get. Within seconds, Porter leaped from the branch and landed with a grunt on the windowsill. I reached out to grab his hand and pulled him into my room. We sat on the floor, beneath the window, and he placed his hand in mine.

  “So, this is where you sleep?” He waggled his eyebrows at me.

  All at once, I felt naked, as exposed as the day I was born. If I had known he’d see my room, I would have cleaned it until it was spotless. As it was, my closet door stood open and two pairs of sneakers sat on my carpet.

  “Yeah,” I replied with a shrug.

  “It’s nice.” He stood and walked around the room, perusing the pictures on the walls and the trinkets on my desk that had been made by Aspen’s children.

  “You shouldn’t be here.”

  “I know, but I couldn’t wait.”

  He walked back to me and smoothed down the hair of my braid before planting a gentle kiss on my lips.

  “You’re terribly impatient, aren’t you?” I narrowed my eyes as he pulled me in for a tight hug.

  So this was what flirting was like. It was fun, and I liked it. It was easy to flirt, I realized, when I felt comfortable and didn’t need to censor myself.

  “Guilty,” he said, raising his arms in surrender. “I can’t help it. I miss your face, your smile, your voice. God, I love your voice.”

  “You do?”

  “Mm-hmm.” He nodded, kissing me gently on the neck. “It’s gentle and melodic, like you.”

  “You think I’m melodic?”

  “Yep.” He removed his baseball cap and ran his fingers through his hair. “I hate not knowing when I’ll see you again, it’s torture. Pure torture.”

  “I don’t think there’s anything we can do about that. I mean . . .” I paused when Porter’s smile turned into a devilish smirk. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

  “I think I have a solution. I have something for you.” He reached into his back pocket and removed a small phone.

  Lehi didn’t allow phones in his household, but some husbands did, so I’d grown up used to seeing women walking along our dirt roads, talking on their phones.

  “We can text each other,” he went on, “figure out when to meet, stuff like that. I already programmed my number in.”

  “But I-I’ve never used a phone before.”

  “It’s easy, I’ll show you.”

  A creaking sound came from the hallway and I froze, paralyzed with fear that someone may have heard us.

  I pushed Porter down to the floor behind the bed while I crossed the room to check. As I stood with my ear pressed against the door, I could hear nothing but the pounding of my heart. Porter had to go. He was risking too much by being there with me.

  A moment passed and no other sounds came from the hall. I tiptoed back around the bed, only to find the room empty. Porter was gone. I sighed and plopped dejectedly on my bed, wishing I had been able to say good-bye.

  My heart nearly leaped into my mouth when a hand grasped one of my hanging ankles. In a split second, I was on my knees, staring at Porter who was laughing under the bed, covering his mouth to muffle the noise. I swatted him on the chest as he scooted out from underneath my bed.

  “Sorry,” he whispered, holding back laughter. “But that was hilarious.”

  I couldn’t help but chuckle. “Fine, I guess it was.”

  Porter pushed my boundaries, and I loved that. I loved the way he viewed the world. He was playful, yet smart. He had a rough exterior, yet a considerate heart.

  “Come here.” He stroked the collar of my dress, tugging at it slightly, pulling me down so that my chest was pressed to his. He nipped gently at my bottom lip, then took it into his mouth, and my eyes widened at the unfamiliar, but enticing, sensation. He released his hold on my lip, allowing himself to smile in satisfaction. His hand traveled down my back and landed on my bottom, where he squeezed, and I wriggled with pleasure.

  A familiar pulsing in my private area returned and I knew that if he didn’t leave soon, our clothing could soon be shed, and we’d be committing adultery in the house of Lehi Cluff.

  I couldn’t do that. Not there, not in Lehi’s home. I just couldn’t.

  “But you have to go, Porter. We can’t—we can’t do this here. Someone could catch us. And I can’t risk that.”

  “All right.” He groaned. “Fine. I’ll go. But first, let me show you, okay?” He reached into his other pocket and retrieved another phone, dialing a number. The phone in my hand buzzed and I flipped it open.

  “What do I do?”

  “See that? It says new text. Just press this button.” He pointed at a small
button that was labeled Enter. When I pressed it, a message popped up on the screen.

  P: Cool, huh?

  I giggled behind my hand. “Yes, very cool.”

  “That’s all you have to do.” He wrapped his arm around me and pulled me closer. “And if you want to text me, you press Enter on the last text I sent, then just type with the keyboard.”

  “The letters are so tiny.”

  “You’ll get used to it.” He laughed. “I don’t have a charger for you. But I will. And you should be good for a while. I charged it before I came here.”

  “Thank you.” Delighted at his gift, I gathered my courage and lifted my hand, allowing my fingers to trail down the side of his face. His skin was so warm, and a little thrill shot through me.

  He took my hand in his and kissed it. “I should go.” He reached for the phone and pointed to a red button and then a green. “This button turns it off, this one turns it back on. Simple enough, right?”

  “All right.”

  “I’ll miss you.” He placed a chaste kiss on my lips and squeezed my hand.

  “I’ll miss you too.”

  “Hide that.” He pointed at the phone. “Right away, okay?”

  “I will, I promise.”

  Porter sat on the edge of my windowsill, placed his baseball cap back on his head, and hoisted himself onto the nearest branch. His body hung for a moment before he gained the momentum to fling himself onto the tree.

  Relieved that he would make it down without injury, I closed my window and scurried to my closet. I flung open the shoe box and retrieved my purse. My heart racing, I tucked the phone in its secret compartment, right next to my birth control pills.

  My secrets were mounting. And as nervous as I was, I didn’t care. Not enough to stop.

  He’d given me a way to contact him whenever I wanted to, whenever I needed to.

  That little phone gave me a feeling of control that I hadn’t had in twenty-two long years.

  The thought of it made my nerves calm, made my mind wander, and made my heart dance.

  Chapter 15

  Every spare minute I had was spent pushing the little plastic keys of the phone Porter gave me. Porter called it texting, but I called it freedom. Even if it was only the tiniest of slivers, it felt glorious. Each morning when I awoke, I ran to my closet, turned on the phone, and read the latest message from Porter.

  This morning, however, I couldn’t enjoy my new morning ritual.

  Lehi was in my bed, fast asleep and snoring, his nose whistling with each exhale.

  The defiant part of me wanted to tiptoe across my small room, open the closet door, and crouch down to read my latest text. But smart and cautious Brinley won that fight. I had to be patient. Soon Lehi’s alarm clock would chime and rattle him awake. He’d be out the door without even saying good morning.

  Despite the fact that Lehi slept in each of the wives’ bedrooms, all his personal belongings were kept in Leandra’s large walk-in closet. Since we shared one large residence, there was no need for him to leave fresh clothing or toiletries in each wife’s bedroom—all he had to do was walk down the hall and Leandra would provide him with whatever he needed to start his day.

  Aspen was convinced it was Leandra’s determination to maintain control that kept Lehi in this routine. Her cryptic words alluded to some great secret kept between Lehi and his first wife. When I became curious, when I pressed her for more information, a wicked curl of a smile appeared on Aspen’s lips and she’d simply said, “Don’t worry about it. But I’m on to him.”

  On to him? She had me intrigued. Did Lehi have secrets? Of course he did; didn’t we all?

  I, myself, was relieved that he didn’t take up any sort of residence in my space. It kept my secrets where they belonged—hidden from his domineering eyes.

  Ding dong. Ding dong.

  Lehi groaned, then swung his arm like a pendulum to slap the sound from the clock. I stayed quiet as he sat up.

  “Wake up.” He yawned. “Today’s the day. Jorjina is expecting you, as is the prophet.”

  Jorjina Black was the mother of our prophet. Before that day, I knew next to nothing about her. When I was younger, she would parade through our compound, her nose pushed up toward the clouds. She was our royalty, the queen who bore the prophet, blessing us with his guidance and wisdom in our time on this earth.

  But as she aged, we saw less of Jorjina—and most of us forgot about her. I, however, was about to become more than reacquainted with the woman. I was chosen to care for her and would do so to the best of my ability.

  “We’ll leave in one hour. Can you be ready by then?” Lehi ran his fingers through his disheveled morning hair, turning to look me in the eye. I could smell the foul odor of his breath when he turned my way to speak. Desperately trying to be inconspicuous, I held my breath and nodded, biting my bottom lip.

  “All right then.” He stood, stretched his arms toward the ceiling, and left the room.

  Exhaling a large blast of air, I ran to my closet and turned on the phone, thrilled to see a couple of texts from Porter.

  P: I hope today goes okay. Be strong, they can smell fear. ;) I miss you like crazy.

  P: Oh, and flip off the prophet for me. I hate that asshole.

  A giggle left my mouth as I texted back.

  B: What does flip off mean?

  I rose to my feet and stood with my back to the wall as I stared down at the small screen, hoping I’d get a response. I didn’t have much time to wait as I needed to bathe and prepare myself for Jorjina Black’s company.

  P: I have so much to teach you, Brin.

  I rolled my eyes, but a smile bloomed on my face. He was right; he had a lot to teach me. And the more we talked, texted, and saw each other, the more willing I became. With each passing day, it was getting easier to imagine myself in the outside world . . . no long hair, no braid, no long dresses with long underwear beneath.

  Freedom.

  Could I do it? I wasn’t sure.

  But I was warming up to the idea. The voice in my head had started out as disjointed whispers, so unconnected that they didn’t make any sense. But those whispers were coming together, becoming more cohesive, clearer and louder in my head than ever before.

  From a whisper to a scream.

  I was waiting for the scream.

  • • •

  Dust collected on my already dirty sneakers as Lehi and I walked to the new home that had been constructed for Jorjina Black.

  “Remember what an honor this is,” he told me.

  “I will.”

  “At all times,” he said pointedly.

  I nodded my head in submission, focusing on the dust covering my shoes.

  “The prophet will give you specific instructions. You must obey them, no matter what.”

  I frowned in confusion. Of all of Lehi’s wives, I knew I was one of the more submissive women in our home. What would make him think I would disobey any directions given to me by Jorjina or the prophet?

  As I pondered the meaning behind Lehi’s words, I almost missed the eyes on me.

  Almost.

  Burt Jameson stood on the porch of the house he and his crew were constructing. He clutched the railing, his knuckles white as he stared in our direction, a pained expression on his unshaven face. New creases in his forehead and bracketing his mouth telegraphed his sorrow and despair. He wasn’t far away but I couldn’t acknowledge him, no matter how much I wanted to ease his pain, to beg him to move on as Rebecca clearly had with her new husband.

  But I couldn’t.

  When we approached his building site, Lehi pushed his shoulders back and stiffened. From the corner of my eye, I could see Lehi deliberately lift his chin. And for the first time in three years, he took my hand in his, and turned his head toward Burt. Burt’s mouth opened in response, then he turned away, walking back to his crew and his work.

  My throat turned dry as I stared at Lehi’s clammy hand clutching my fingers, and I wondered what he k
new. Was he simply reminding Burt of his control over his wives? Or was there more to that display of possession?

  Lehi maintained his grasp on my hand even as we approached Jorjina’s grandiose home in the center of the compound. The prophet had spared no expense on the residence of his mother. Lush gardens surrounded the thin brick walkway that led to the elegant French doors on the front porch. I’d never seen a home with such a fancy entryway. Apparently, when your son was the prophet, you could have whatever you liked.

  A young man scrubbed at the beveled glass of the doors, making them shine. I couldn’t help but wonder how he had come to deserve the honor of scrubbing Jorjina’s windows. Cynical thoughts such as these were popping up more and more.

  The whispers were growing louder.

  “Good morning, Elder Cluff,” he said, bowing his head slightly and stepping back to give us access to the doorbell. Lehi didn’t respond to the boy, he simply cleared his throat and pressed his finger to the button.

  The prophet opened the door and met us with an expressionless face. He looked older since I had seen him last—wrinkles had formed at the creases of his dark eyes, and his hair seemed thinner. He was not a tall man; in fact, Lehi towered over him in height.

  Yet the prophet’s willowy frame belied the power he carried in our community. The irony of his appearance was not lost on me.

  Since marrying Lehi, my interactions with the prophet had been limited. I was accustomed to hearing his sermons each morning over the loudspeakers, but it had been quite some time since he’d visited the Cluff household. And I suspected Lehi preferred it that way. Visits from the prophet usually meant trouble for a man or his wives.

  Like Burt and Rebecca.

  The prophet didn’t smile, but greeted us from the door. His voice was a soft monotone, lacking emotion. “Welcome. Mother has been expecting you.”

  “Thank you for this honor,” Lehi said, tipping his head slowly to the prophet in deference.

  The prophet watched as Lehi finished the gesture. The way he stared at Lehi made me shift with discomfort; it was a look of entitlement, of expectation, and it made goose bumps rise beneath the fabric of my sleeves. Yes, I knew that our prophet was God placed on earth. I knew he owned our people, that he was our direct link to Heavenly Father and to heaven, but still something stirred in my belly that unsettled me.

 

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