“Thank you,” said Anna. “I’ll expect you tonight. Tobias might be asleep, but I’ll wake him when you come.”
“There’s no need—” I started to say, but Anna had already hung up.
I called Kurt and told him about the hospice and about the promise to see Anna tonight. He sounded very cool about it, not emotional at all. When I asked why, he said, “Death is a natural part of life. We’ll all go through it, and Tobias has had time to accept it. Besides, death doesn’t mean the end of things. It just means a change from one side of the veil to the other.”
“Easier to say than to believe,” I said.
“But I do believe it. And so do you,” said Kurt. “You believe your parents are waiting for you, behind the veil. And our baby daughter.”
Some days I believed that more than others. I wasn’t sure today was one of the better days. “I hate change,” I said grumpily. I didn’t talk about our daughter, not even with Kurt. Not casually like this.
“Yes, I’ve noticed that,” said Kurt.
WHEN SAMUEL CAME home, I found out that he had decided to join the new Gay-Straight Alliance at his school. It wasn’t a popular thing in the Mormon world, coming out in defense of homosexuals, but there was a lot less talk about how evil it was, and even the apostles had begun to admit there was likely a genetic component that was not a lifestyle choice.
“You are so wonderful, Samuel. I want you to know how proud I am of you for standing up for people who are being hurt, ignored, and told they aren’t worth being defended,” I said, kissing him on the forehead.
He shrugged and moved away uncomfortably. “It’s not that wonderful, you know.”
“Of course it is. You just don’t see how unusual you are.”
I made a quick dinner, and after Kurt had finished some phone calls to the stake, he and I dressed in warm coats and walked over to the Torstensens. It was the only kind of “date” we had anymore, walking together arm in arm as he went to visits.
Anna opened the door. She was wearing far too much makeup, but even that couldn’t disguise her red eyes or the puffiness around her cheeks.
“Thank you so much for coming,” she said to Kurt.
“No trouble at all. Of course we want to be here for you. How is Tobias doing?” he asked.
She shook her head. “He’s not always coherent, but he is upset about something. He keeps talking about a secret, but he won’t tell me anything about it. He says that he’ll only talk to you, Bishop Wallheim.”
“Well, then, perhaps I should go see him privately and you and Linda can talk.”
Anna nodded and watched Kurt go up the stairs. Her hands were tight little rocks.
We stood in the front room, with a view of the kitchen. “Have you eaten anything today?” I asked her.
“What? Oh. I think so.”
“What did you have for dinner?”
She waved a hand. “I had some toast. I don’t remember when. I’m not really hungry.”
She needed to eat. She needed her strength. “Do you have some eggs? I could cook you up a couple. How do you like them?” I led her into the kitchen, which was very different from the Helms’ kitchen, and from my own. It was smaller, but the wood of the cabinets was thick and the finish was buttery. Everything inside the kitchen looked sturdy and old, and there were very few of the everyday appliances that people seemed to use now. Anna sat at the small kitchen table, but she continued to protest. “I don’t think I could eat anything now. It would just come back up. I haven’t felt this nervous since the day I first met Tobias.”
I rummaged around to find a pan in the cupboards and then eggs in the refrigerator and bread in the breadbox. There was butter covered on a ceramic plate, which was something else younger cooks didn’t often do.
After a moment’s pause, Anna said, “It was so long ago, when we met, but I remember it so clearly. I was sure he would never look at me again, that I’d have those few moments with him and then he’d be gone. I had one chance to say the perfect sentence, to make him pay attention. I could barely speak, I was so worried.”
“What did you say, in the end?” I asked, curious about Anna and Tobias’s courtship despite myself. Young couples were always talking about how they met, their first dates, their weddings, but the older we got, the less it felt like the people we had been at that age were the same ones we were now, after all the becoming that came with life. It was like thinking back to a book you read in high school, and then reading it again, only to realize it said things you had never understood, and that it didn’t say any of the things you thought it had.
“I told him he had the prettiest ears I’d ever seen,” said Anna, blushing even now.
“And that did it?” I asked, smiling.
“He said after we were married that he didn’t remember what I said at all. He only remembered the way I looked at him.”
“And his ears,” I said, working from the table to the stove.
She let out a little laugh. “Yeah.”
I finished making the eggs and put them on a plate. Anna sat down and started to pick at them.
“Is there anything I could do to help you?” I asked.
“I’m fine,” she said automatically.
“No, think about it. People always say they’re fine and they’re not. You’re obviously not fine, Anna. I could do laundry if you want. Or come in and help you clean. You want to spend what time you have left with Tobias, not doing meaningless chores around the house.”
“I’m very particular about the laundry,” said Anna. “I haven’t let Tobias do it for years. I think it would only make me worry more about it if you did it.”
“All right then. What about something outside? What about the chores that Tobias does—did—normally?”
“Oh!” Her eyes widened. “Well, the shed is a disaster. Tobias tried to keep up with his garden work through the fall, but I’m afraid he did a haphazard job when it came to organization. I could use some help there.”
“Great!” I said. “That’s exactly the kind of thing I’m happy to help with.”
“But it’s so cold,” she said. “You might as well wait till spring.”
“I’ve got a coat on. I’ll go out right now and see what needs to be done. Then I can look at my schedule this week and see what time I have.” Of course there wasn’t any reason the shed needed to be taken care of right now. It was the woman who disliked even the thought of the disorganized shed I was concerned about. If I could decrease her stress even the tiniest bit by helping with the shed, I’d have accomplished something.
I cleaned up in the kitchen, then trooped outside to the shed. Like the kitchen it was ancient; it wasn’t the prefabricated kind that was delivered and set up on concrete blocks. This was made of aluminum and had been set up by Tobias, back in the day. The door was difficult to open, and when I stepped inside, I could see why. The floor was littered with tools and other equipment. I bent down and began to pick up flowerpots and half-empty bags of fertilizer. I stacked together things I thought should be thrown away, including several tools that looked rusted and ruined after sitting too long without being cleaned. It was a shame.
For a moment, I stood, arms wrapped around my coat-clad shoulders, and thought of the shed as Tobias himself, a man who had not even shared his life story with his wife of thirty years. How many things had he left inside himself to canker, because he thought he would get to them later? How many inner wounds were still oozing blood and pus? Was he ashamed of the truth of who he was? Did he close the door on his own past secrets to keep them hidden from other people? And what would happen when God opened the door at his death?
I swallowed what felt like a large piece of ice.
What did my own shed look like? I suppose we are all like Tobias, putting off things that we should take care of but which we are too tired or too ashamed to deal with. And someday, the end will come for all of us, and other people will root around in our things, finding out what we wish no one w
ould ever know. It made me want to go home and clean my house, and then the garage.
But what was lurking inside of my heart? You hope that people remember the best parts of you at the end, and forgive the smaller darknesses. You hope, but how can you ever be sure?
Once the shed floor was clear, I nodded to myself with pride. I’d done something right here, at least. I checked my watch and realized I’d been out here for over an hour. Was Kurt still talking to Tobias? There was more to be done in the shed, and I thought of mentioning the ruined tools to Anna, then immediately decided against it. She didn’t need more to do. I made a note on my shopping list to just buy new tools for her. I could bring them back with me after the funeral.
With that thought in mind, I looked through the cabinets, trying to make a list of other items I should buy to make spring cleanup in the yard easier. Fertilizers, of course, and fresh soil. Tobias had his own mulch pile that he turned periodically. I was probably not going to be able to do that well enough to make the mulch useful, so Anna would have to make do with a commercial product. The last cabinet I opened had some fabric in it. I assumed at first it was Tobias’s work clothes, but when I pulled them out, I realized it was a dress. A knee-length pink floral dress that was dirty and so old the seams were coming apart.
I had no idea why it was out in the shed or what Anna would make of it, but I thought to return it to her, if only to solve a mystery for her. No doubt she’d been looking for it for years, and had given up ever finding it again.
I closed the door to the shed behind me, then went back inside. Kurt was with Anna in the front room, and he quirked an eyebrow at the pink dress I had brought in.
“He has lucid moments, and that’s a good thing. He told me how much he loves you and his boys. He asked if they would be here. I told him we would all do our best to make that happen,” said Kurt to Anna.
“I’ve already called them. They’re going to try to make it in time to see him, but they both have work projects they have to finish first,” said Anna.
Work projects took precedence over their father’s dying? It made me wonder about their relationship with Anna and their father.
But Kurt nodded. “Good. Then you’re doing the things that need to be done. I know this is hard, but it will help to focus on what you can do, not what you can’t. All right?” He patted her on the shoulder.
I had had to get used to Kurt touching other women. It still felt a little strange. I wondered sometimes if it would ever feel normal.
I offered the dress to Anna. “I found this out in the shed. I thought I would bring it in, just in case it disappeared a long time ago and you never knew where it went.”
But she shook her head. “That’s not mine. You found it in the shed?”
I unfolded it and shook it out. “Maybe it’s something Tobias found discarded somewhere and forgot about?” I said.
Anna touched it again. “That style is so old. And the pattern. I wonder if it belonged to Tobias’s first wife.”
“Oh,” I said, and wished that I hadn’t brought the dress out. Clearly, Tobias had kept it in the shed after all those years because it reminded him of his first wife. He didn’t want Anna to know about his souvenir, and now I had shown it to her.
“I suppose that’s sweet of him, to keep it after all this time. Why he kept a dress, I don’t know, but—” She shrugged.
“Shall I put it back in the shed?” I asked.
“I can’t see what use that would be. You can just throw it in the garbage, I think. Tobias won’t be needing it anymore to remind him of her. He’ll be seeing her soon himself.” She said it without wincing, but I couldn’t help but think it must hurt her, on top of everything else she had to deal with, to realize that her husband had been so in love with his dead wife that during their whole marriage he had kept this secret token of his first love.
“I’ll take care of it,” I promised.
Kurt and I went home, and I put the pink dress in our garage. It was as I was folding it again that I realized there was a brown stain on the neckline. I stared at it and told myself that it was probably the reason that the first wife hadn’t worn it anymore. But why had Tobias kept a ruined dress? And what was the stain?
It looked like blood, I suppose, but there could be a lot of reasons she might get blood on the back of a dress. I turned out of the garage with a shudder, wondering what was wrong with me, that I became suspicious of every neighbor in the ward. I saw blood everywhere, it seemed, and thought of all men as potential murderers. Was the problem me or was it them?
CHAPTER 10
The police served a warrant on the Helms’ home Friday morning, after Kurt had gone to work. I got a panicked call from Jared and rushed over There were a dozen policemen in uniforms already moving through the house. Jared was in the kitchen, holding Kelly in his arms. He was weeping again, and she looked like a scared rabbit.
“You can both come to our house. There’s no reason you have to be here while the police search,” I said. I looked around and found a plainclothes policeman who looked like he might be in charge. “Can he leave? Does he have to watch this?”
“As long as we know where he is, in case there are questions,” was the answer.
I wondered if he meant in case they found evidence enough to arrest Jared on the spot.
“You take her,” said Jared, standing up and pushing Kelly toward me. “I’ll stay here.”
I hesitated. “Are you sure?”
“I need to be here,” he said. “This is our home. I’ll stay here to watch over it. But Kelly shouldn’t have to worry. Take good care of her?”
I nodded. “Of course I will. We’ll have fun together, right, Kelly?”
She nodded at me, then tucked her head into my pant leg.
I took her hand and it felt so good, that tiny, warm bit of flesh and fingers, that I thought there was something wrong with me. How could I feel so right with this other girl who wasn’t my daughter? But somehow I felt like she belonged with me, like she was my second chance.
As we walked back across and up the street, I noticed more than one curious neighbor poking a head out, taking in the police vehicles in the Helms’ driveway and along the sidewalk. I felt a pang for Jared Helm. No matter what he had done, he was still a scared young man trying to do what was right for his daughter.
When I turned back at the front door of my own house, I could see several white-gloved policemen in the Helms’ garage lifting the trunk of the family car.
Kelly caught a glimpse of this, too. “What are they doing? Are they going to take our car away?” she asked.
“No,” I assured her. “They’re just looking for your mother.”
“Why are they looking for her there?” said Kelly.
“They don’t know where else to look for her,” I said.
“But she’s not there,” said Kelly insistently. “She’s gone away.”
“Yes, sweetheart. But she didn’t say goodbye to anyone, so they’re worried about her. They want to talk to her and make sure she’s all right.”
“She said goodbye to me,” said Kelly.
My heart nearly stopped at that. I pushed the door open and pulled Kelly inside. “Come on inside to the kitchen,” I said. What did Kelly know about all of this? No one had ever thought to ask her this particular question before, it seemed. Or Kelly hadn’t felt comfortable enough to answer.
“Why don’t you tell me about your mommy?” I said, trying to move to the larger questions cautiously.
“Mommy used to make brownies with me when she was feeling sad,” said Kelly.
“Oh? What else did she do when she was sad?” I asked. I set her on the bar to watch me.
Then I got out all the ingredients to make brownies, hoping it would make Kelly feel more comfortable, and possibly jostle loose some memories. I felt like I was no better than the policemen who were even now poking into her underwear drawer, and her mother’s, as well. Prying out secrets from a child—how low
did that make me? But I wanted to know the truth.
“She loved me,” said Kelly.
“Of course she did.” I hugged the little girl hard and set the butter I’d softened in the microwave in front of her, along with the sugar and cocoa, and asked her to stir it. I figured I would have a mess to clean up afterward, but Kelly had been trained well. She dug in with the wooden spoon and stood on the chair I pulled up for her, using the full weight of her body to cream the ingredients.
“Mommy likes chocolate best. It makes her feel happy again. And she likes the kissing movies.”
I smiled at that. “What kissing movies are her favorites?”
“The one with the movie star and the man who lives in the blue door. The one with the floppy hair,” said Kelly.
“Notting Hill?” I asked. It was also one of my favorites. “What else? You said she said goodbye to you before she left?” I was treading on dangerous ground here. I casually cracked eggs into the brownie batter, but felt as if my own house was as fragile as the eggshells. What if Jared realized what Kelly might say and came rushing over to take her back with him?
“She came into my bedroom and kissed me goodnight. She said to be a good girl for Daddy,” said Kelly.
But that could mean anything. “Well, I’m sure you are a good girl,” I said, hoping for more.
Kelly looked down at the brownie batter. “Can I have a taste? Mommy always lets me have a taste,” she said.
“With the eggs in it? That’s not safe,” I said. “Raw eggs can have bad bacteria in them.”
“Is that what made Mommy go away? The bad bacteria? Because she ate brownies before they were cooked?” said Kelly, looking up at me, her messy, curly hair now also dusted in flour and cocoa.
“No, I don’t think so,” I assured her.
“I’m not going to run away like Mommy. Daddy says I have to promise not to run away.”
“Your daddy is right about that, Kelly. You shouldn’t run away. Did you see your mom packing anything before she left? Are you sure she ran away?”
“Daddy said she ran away,” said Kelly. “But I only saw when she got out of the car.”
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