Favorite Wife (32 page)

As we walked into the coolness of the house, Irene glanced at me. “So who owns the pretty Cadillac at the Chynoweths?”

I looked meaningfully at the girls crowding around the kitchen and headed toward Irene's bedroom. She followed, waiting until the door was closed before demanding, “What's going on?”

“The car's Ervil's. He and Lorna showed up a couple of days ago, and I couldn't stand to be there any longer. Oh, Irene, I hate him so much!” I plopped down on her bed and buried my face in her pillow.

“Ervil's!” Irene shrieked in surprise. “That fancy car is Ervil's? You've got to be kidding me.”

I peered up at her. I knew she would be startled, but I didn't expect such anger. Her blue eyes flashed as her face paled. “Why that selfish . . . I can't believe him! How dare he buy himself a something like that, when Joel doesn't own a decent car to his name!”

I sat up, puzzled and confused. “What do you mean! What does Joel have to do with it?”

Irene pursed her lips, her anger momentarily robbing her of words. She glanced at me, as though trying to decide if she should say what was on her mind. She decided and spat out, “The money that's making the payments on that car is obviously the money that Verlan and Joel give Ervil to support his families.”

It was my turn to be shocked. “What! Verlan and Joel give Ervil money?” I gasped.

“They have for years. Ervil hasn't done an honest day's work since I can remember.” Irene sat down on the end of the bed, her face ashen.

“It's Joel's fault in a way,” she continued. “He felt Ervil was such an asset to the mission field that he shouldn't waste time with physical labor. So Joel and Verlan agreed to support Ervil and his families, so he could be free to write church manuals and preach the gospel. They've had to occasionally use tithing to help with Ervil's bills.”

I listened in consternation. “But surely they don't still do it? I mean, now that Ervil has been so against Joel, and all. They wouldn't still give him money, would they?”

Irene shrugged, “Ervil's wife, Delphina' was penniless and desperate in Ensenada a couple of weeks ago. She called Joel, and he made a special trip to give her what money he had. Jeannine was mad, of course, and she asked Joel about it. He said that no matter what Ervil was doing, he just couldn't sit back and see his poor wives going without.”

I looked thoughtfully away. Respect for Joel's decency, for his willingness to return good for evil battled with my fear that Joel was indeed promoting Ervil's lack of responsibility for his families.

“I can't believe Ervil would stoop so low,” Irene was saying. “How can he have the gall to flash around town in that fancy car, while Joel and Verlan work like dogs and drive old, beat-up pickups? I'd charge over there and slap Ervil's smug, ugly face, but shit splatters.”

It was on the tip of my tongue to tell Irene my suspicions about Ervil's new car. But somehow I contained myself. It would doubtless get back to Verlan if I said anything. Irene was a wonderful, loving sister-wife, but she did have her weaknesses.

I breathed a heartfelt sigh of relief when Ervil and Lorna finally went back to Ensenada. The Chynoweths treated me well enough, although there was a subtle difference in our relationship. An invisible barrier, a sort of reserve, had crept between us, one that I knew Ervil had caused. Or, on the other hand, one I had caused by my cool treatment to their new champion.

It was six weeks before Verlan came again to Los Molinos. He was subdued and careworn, and had disturbing news. One of the new members from California had loaned Ervil several thousand dollars. He was totally unaware that Ervil and Joel were at odds and that the money wasn't being used for the church. The man had gone to Joel, expecting him to pay the money back.

“Ervil led John to believe that Joel asked for the money,” Verlan groaned and buried his haggard face in his hands. “So, John handed it over without question. Now he wants it paid back, and Joel feels responsible. Oh—I don't know what we're going to do. We don't have that kind of money.”

“Ervil's a grown man, Verlan,” I snapped. “Make him responsible for his own debts. Let John take him to court for it.”

Verlan jumped off the bed and paced nervously around Rena's and my new room. “That's not the worst of it, sweetheart. Ervil's been up to more of his so-called revelations. He's after Brother Jensen's wife, Lawreve. He's convinced her to leave Earl and marry him. Joel's fit to be tied. Ervil told Joel he wasn't waiting for an official divorce, that it wasn't necessary for a man in his position to do so.”

Verlan rambled on, freely wiping tears away as he relived the emotional meeting between Joel and himself. “First Anna Mae. And now Lawreve. And it would have been you, too, if we hadn't put a stop to it. Well, we're going to have to grind him to a halt, somehow. It'll be ugly, I reckon.” Verlan shook his head, and stared at me in wonder. “Can you believe it, he honestly thinks he's above the law, both the law of the church, and the law of the land. He actually told me that blood would run to solve our problems! You should have seen his face when he said it.”

I listened in paralyzed silence. Finally, Verlan believed me! Now he had heard it with his own ears, and it was all coming to a head. Ervil wouldn't allow himself to be shut down and humiliated without a fight, he was too fond of authority and power. “Promise me you'll be careful,” I pleaded with him.

He gathered me into his arms and kissed my cheek and forehead. “I'm watching my step,” he said quietly.

It seemed Verlan had barely told me hello, and now he was kissing me goodbye. As before, I watched from the window as his pickup disappeared over the crest of the hill above Los Molinos. Only this time I watched with much more anxiety.

C
HAPTER
T
WENTY-
S
IX

C
onvincing Verlan to let me go back to Colonia LeBaron for the birth of my child was easier than I expected. I had a dozen good arguments ready should they be needed, but Verlan waved them all away.

“I think it would be the best thing to do,” he readily agreed. “You should be with your mother. And you should leave soon, before you're further along. I'll find you a ride to the colony right away.”

He pinched my cheek and smiled. “Don't you worry. I'll be heading that way myself in time to be with you when the baby's born.”

“Oh, Verlan,” I said softly, “you're being so good to me. Thank you.” I hugged him, noticing again how curious it seemed to have such a large lump between our bodies. After Verlan left, I sat down to write my mother a letter.

The following day Verlan did a bit of scouting around and found that his nephew, Joseph Butchereit, was in town. Joseph would be returning to Colonia LeBaron in a few days and would be happy to take me along.

As the appointed morning came, I waited expectantly, my bags by the door. Morning slowly dragged into afternoon, and still no Joseph. The sun was dropping toward the western horizon, and my nerves were raw with impatience when the young man finally tapped on the Chynoweths' door. “Wal, ready to go?” he drawled.

I controlled the urge to inform him that I had been ready for hours. I nodded instead and handed him my bags. Saying goodbye to the Chynoweths, I followed Joseph outside. He was a shy, dreamy man with a soft heart. I couldn't expect him to be perfect.

“Oh, hellfire,” I groaned, stopping abruptly as I got a good look at the pickup idling in the Chynoweths' driveway. Suddenly I wanted to back out of the offered ride. A gaping hole where the passenger door should have been plainly revealed the ragged interior. The engine appeared naked and ugly without the hood covering, and it spouted black smoke.

Joseph dumped my bags in the back and turned toward me expectantly, grinning as he noticed my dismayed face. “Oh, it don't look real good, Aunt Susan, but it runs,” he assured me. “Just sit real close to me and you'll be fine.”

“Are you sure that thing'll make it all the way to Colonia LeBaron?” I demanded, continuing to eye the old truck. I wondered if I dared risk the welfare of my unborn child in such a vehicle. And I also wondered if Verlan had seen it before asking Joseph to take me with him.

He patiently walked back to me. Taking my hand, he led me to the truck and helped me up onto the seat. “Don't you worry now. Scoot way over, away from the edge,” he said cheerfully.

Well here we go, I thought. I set my jaw, averting my eyes from the enormous opening where the door used to be.

The long ride was a breezy one. But the old truck ran without missing a lick, reminding me that appearances aren't important. Showing sensitive concern for my welfare, Joseph fussed over me all along the way.

“You shore you aren't hungry?” he yelled several times above the noise of the engine. “You shore you don't need a bathroom? I know how you pregnant women are . . . ”

I thought several times about Verlan's last words before he left me in Los Molinos. “I'll be with you in Colonia LeBaron in time for the baby,” he'd promised.

Looking back, I was proud of how bravely I had smiled as he assured me of his plans. But even as he'd talked, I figured that something would doubtless arise to prevent him from keeping his promise. Not that he didn't plan to be with me. I knew he wanted to come, but his responsibilities were so very important, not to mention the burden of the new debt of Ervil's to which he and Joel had consented. If Verlan came, it would be a miracle. Still, I could hope.

Sixteen hours after we started our journey, Joseph deposited me, safe and sound, on my mother's doorstep. Mother and the girls danced around, excited at the prospect of a new baby in the house.

I sighed with of relief as I settled back into the orderly routine of life in Colonia LeBaron. The colony felt modern and slow-paced, after the hustle and bustle of the pioneers in Los Molinos. Fara and Ramona were busy with school, so Mom and I had the house to ourselves during the day. Dad popped in to see us occasionally. He was still occupied with his farming project and spent most of his time away. Maria had given birth to another girl, which increased the number of my father's children to fifteen.

The sultry, last days of my confinement dwindled slowly, and Verlan failed to arrive. I clung to the hope of his promise, believing that if it were possible, he would be with me for the birth. My awaited due date came—and went, with both baby and Verlan neglecting to make an appearance. I tried not to feel upset that Verlan hadn't made it, but the tears wouldn't hold. I paced my mother's living room in frustration.

“He'll come,” Mom said soothingly. “Have faith, daughter, he'll be here soon.”

The following night as I looked in the mirror at my hard, swollen stomach, I sighed. “Wait a few more days, little one. Stay where you are until your daddy arrives.”

I blew out the lamp and crawled into Mona's twin bed, turning awkwardly about as I tried to sleep. “Why, oh why, doesn't he come?” I moaned. “Lord, why can't he be here?”

Even as I spoke the words, a light tapping on the living room door startled me. “Anybody home?” Verlan's voice rang out through the still house.

A wild rush of joy flooded through me. I wanted to leap up and run to him, but as I sat on the edge of the bed, the muscles in my back suddenly knotted uncomfortably.

“Oh,” I gasped, wide-eyed at the pain. I stood up, the contraction ripping around my back and clutching at my abdomen. Harder and harder it peaked, then faded.

Dazed, I heard my mother's voice blending with Verlan's in the living room. I paused for a moment next to the window as another contraction erupted through my body. I relaxed into the pain, allowing it to do its work as I looked out at the winking brilliance of the stars. Sudden tears choked me. “Lord,” I thought, “This perfect timing isn't a coincidence, is it? You're much too great and loving. You care about every little thing.”

“Melanie. Let's name her Melanie,” I said, as I gently pushed the thick, black hair away from my tiny daughter's eyes. Her face was the most beautiful, delicate pink. She wasn't the usual, wrinkled red color of most new babies. Not my little girl. She was a perfect little doll.

“Monica,” Verlan insisted. “I thought you liked Monica.”

“I did,” I sighed. “But I don't anymore. I'm tired of that name—I thought about it too long. Don't you think Melanie sounds beautiful . . . sort of classical?”

Verlan leaned over and softly kissed his youngest daughter's tiny cheek. “I don't know what to think about it. I had my heart set on Monica. We'll have to see.” Smiling into my eyes, he squeezed my hand, then stood up and grabbed his briefcase. “Got to go meet with Joel. Bye, sweetheart.”

As I watched Verlan's long legs carry him across the front porch and out of sight, I thought, I've finally done it. I have finally seen pride in his eyes because of me.

I glanced down at the baby, my fingers straying to the soft, abundant hair that crowned her head. “Thank you, precious little bundle,” I whispered. “You are the most beautiful baby in the world, the prettiest one your Daddy has ever seen, I just know it. Lucy's baby, your baby sister, couldn't be as perfectly lovely as you are.”

I thought for a moment about Lucy and tried to imagine what her two-week-old baby girl looked like. They had named her Virginia, Verlan told me. Well, Virginia was a nice enough name, but Melanie was a better one.

I moved gingerly in my mother's big bed, smiling as I remembered how wonderful Verlan had been these past twelve hours. Intense, burning love for me, and agony for what I endured, had shown in his blue-green eyes as he hovered throughout the labor and birth. He had never shown such gentleness, and the way he had held our baby, the pride in his eyes as he looked at her, removed every doubt that I had harbored about his wanting our child.

I was thankful that my mother insisted we have her bedroom once we returned from the hospital. Now there would be room for Verlan to sleep with me. Not that we would be staying long in Colonia LeBaron. Once his meetings with the men were over, he would be anxious to take me back to Los Molinos.

Joel had come to the colony with Verlan, with plans to take care of the official change in the church leadership. He would be returning to Los Molinos with his eldest son, Joel Jr., once the meetings were over.

Charlotte, Lucy, Beverly, and the children had moved to Los Molinos during my absence. They'd arrived a week before Lucy's baby was born, Verlan told me. Lucy and her children were living with Charlotte in her new house until Lucy's home could be built. Beverly was staying with Irene.

“I have a trailer lined up for you to live in, once I take you home,” he'd said. “It's not a fancy one, but it'll do until I can build you a house. Just think, Susan, once I take you back, I'll have all my wives and kids together in Los Molinos for the first time.” Remembering the sparkle in Verlan's eyes as he'd told me that, I smiled and drifted off to sleep with my baby's tiny back warm beneath my hand.

The next two days passed quickly as my strength returned. Several of the colony women came over to see the baby and to visit. They brought covered dishes filled with tempting food, knitted booties, baby clothes, and blankets. On the second day, Franny dropped in just as Verlan was getting ready to leave for another meeting. “What's the baby's name?” she asked, picking her up.

I glanced at Verlan, noticing that he had hurriedly turned his back and busied himself at the mirror with his tie. “I'm not sure yet, Franny,” I smiled. “We're thinking of Monica.”

Verlan snorted. He picked up the card Franny had brought to me and scribbled on it, then leaned over the bed to kiss me goodbye, casually dropping the card on my chest as he straightened up. “Be back later,” he said, winking at Franny.

I picked up the envelope. In scrawled letters next to my name, he'd written Melanie. I laughed softly. “That man spoils me so, Franny,” I said happily. “Anything I want, he gives me.”

The following afternoon I fidgeted at the window, looking out at the beautiful October day. “I'd like to see your mother, Verlan. I'm sick of being cooped up in this house. Why don't we take a walk?”

He eyed me suspiciously. “You sure you're up to walking that far already? The baby's only four days old; maybe you're rushing things a bit.”

I laughed, delighted at his protective instincts. “I feel strong as a horse. Let's go, please!”

“Okay, but we can't stay long. Joel is expecting me at Jensen's by six.” Verlan leaned over the bed and carefully picked Melanie up. “Come on, little chicken,” he crooned. “Let's go see your Grandma.”

I linked my hand through his free arm as we strolled down the tree-lined road. Melanie's blanket-wrapped body was tucked in the crook of his other arm, her tiny face squinting as she got her first glimpse of bright sunlight. Verlan chuckled, watching her expression. “Looks like a little wrinkled cabbage, don't she?”

“Verlan LeBaron, she does not!” I protested. “She's the most beautiful baby I've ever seen. She's also the most beautiful baby you've ever seen; you're just afraid to admit it. Isn't she!”

Verlan nodded, and was still chuckling as we crossed the wooden cattle guard by Esther Spencer's place. We stopped for a moment so that Verlan could visit with two Mexican neighbors who pulled up next to us in a mule-drawn wagon. After pleasantries were exchanged, the older man leaned toward Verlan, dropping his voice confidentially, “Is it true that you are to be the new presidente of your church now?”

Verlan nodded. “Sí, it is true. Joel, my brother, desires to be the Prophet—nothing more. So I will fill the office of presidente.”