I know she isn’t asking how I got from the bus depot to her house, and her no-nonsense attitude works like a truth serum. I sit back and describe life with my mother, living on the streets, and how I met Jacob and ended up living in Unity. “And everything was fine until the Prophet ordered me to leave,” I conclude.
Jimmy comes into the living room and hands us each a mug of tea.
“That Jacob is a special one,” she says, warming her hands on her mug. “Even if he is one of them.”
I nod, thinking of him, and wonder how well she knows the people there.
“So now what?” Abigail asks me.
The question takes me by surprise. Somehow I’d expected her to tell me what would happen next.
“Now I hope to find work and a place to live.”
She doesn’t reply.
“A real job,” I explain, in case she misunderstood. “Not what I was doing before.”
Jimmy comes back in and hands me a plate heaping with scrambled eggs and toast. It smells delicious. He also hands me cutlery and then sits on the couch beside me.
“Thanks,” I say, and suddenly I realize how hungry I am. I place the plate on the coffee table in front of me, lean over it and begin shoveling food into my mouth.
“In case you’re wondering,” Abigail says, “Jimmy received a phone call today from someone who lives in Unity, so we knew you were in town but we couldn’t figure out where you might go. Tonight, after I was in bed, there was a knock on the door and a young man was there.”
“Hunter.”
“Yeah, that’s right,” Jimmy said. “Apparently he’d been trying to find a phone number for me but gave up and just came over.”
Celeste, Jon and Hunter. I owe each of them.
“You’d better get to bed, Jimmy,” Abigail tells him. He nods, gives me a reassuring smile and disappears down the hall. Abigail waits until I’ve finished my eggs. Then she places her mug on a table beside her. She leans forward. “So, what about school?” she asks.
“What about it?”
“Aren’t you planning to finish it?”
“No, I’m too far behind.”
“It’s hard to find a decent job without a high school diploma.”
“I’m sure I can find something. I’m a hard worker.”
“If you’re a hard worker, you can finish school.”
I think about the kids I met in the park today. Smug-girl will have told them all about what I did in Highrock. “I can’t go back to school,” I tell her simply. “I’m not like the rest of them.”
“We can’t keep running from past mistakes,” Abigail says. “At some point, we need to accept what is, what was done, and move on.”
Easier said than done, I think, and I then remember the book I wanted to borrow from the library today, how the jacket blurb said the character was haunted by her past. I wonder how she ended up finding redemption. I definitely need to read that book.
“How old are you, Taviana?” Abigail asks.
“I just turned seventeen.”
She shakes her head. “You’ve seen a lot in your seventeen years. Going from living on the street to Unity... that’s going from one extreme to another.”
“It is.” I nod. “But I needed that extreme. It was the only way I could break the pattern of my life.”
Abigail studies me. I look around the room. It is small and overcrowded with furniture, but it feels homey. There are pictures of children all over the room.
“So what do you know about me?” she asks suddenly.
“Not much. Just that you took in Jimmy and some other boys who decided to leave Unity.”
“Did you know that my children still live there?”
“No.” That surprises me.
She sighs but doesn’t share any more details. “So here’s the deal,” she says, folding her arms across her chest “I take in young people who have left Unity and need a place to live. It’s always been boys in the past, but I’m happy to provide a home for girls too.” She clears her throat. “The authorities recognize the service I provide for these kids, so they turn a blind eye when it comes to laws about legal guardianship and all that.”
I nod.
“But there are rules. If you are willing to follow the rules, you are welcome to live here.”
“I got pretty used to rules in Unity.”
“Yes, I guess you did. But mine are different.”
I wait for her to continue.
“Rule number one. You must attend high school until you graduate.”
“But I just told you that I can’t do that!”
She shrugs.
I cross my arms and sit back. I should have known that this was too good to be true.
“Do you want to hear the other rules?”
“Whatever.”
“Everyone pitches in with the cooking and cleaning. I provide a place for you to live, but it’s not a hotel. The curfew is ten thirty on school nights, midnight on weekends. If you can, I encourage you to work part-time while you attend school so you can contribute to your keep. I expect common courtesy and good manners at all times. We respect each other’s belongings and we each attend a church service of our choice.”
I must look surprised at that because she explains. “I may have left Unity, but I did not lose my faith in a higher power. It is my hope that the members of this family—and that’s what we are, a family—will find strength in God’s love, just as I do.
“This is also not a flop house,” she continues. “If you bring someone over to sleep, you check with me first, as Jimmy did tonight.” She thinks for a moment. “It hasn’t been an issue in the past,” she says, “because there have been only boys, but of course boys and girls will occupy separate bedrooms. Occasionally we have to double up.”
I suddenly feel incredibly tired. The rules sound about the same as they did in the group homes I lived in before, and those never worked out for me.
“Any questions, Taviana?”
I notice a slight change in her voice. It’s somewhat softer, gentler. Even her face looks less bulldoggish now.
I shake my head.
“You’re welcome to take a couple of days to think about it.”
“But I already know I can’t go back to school.”
“We can get you help with your schoolwork, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“It’s not.”
She sighs. “I didn’t think so. Now listen,” she says in her gentler voice. “I can see you’re exhausted. Things always look better after a good night’s sleep. In the morning you can meet the boys, and I’ll give you until Saturday to decide what you’re going to do.”
She’s right. I am exhausted. I decide to accept her hospitality for tonight, and maybe for a few more days. With any luck I will have found myself a job and another place to live by Saturday.
THE SOUND OF male laughter and clanging dishes drags me from a deep sleep. It takes a moment to remember where I am, but when I do I get up and quickly pull on my clothes. I comb my hair with my fingers before I step into the hallway. The coast is clear. I duck into the bathroom and then head down the hall toward the kitchen.
Sitting at the table are Jimmy and two other boys. Abigail is standing at the counter making sandwiches. Jimmy smiles when he sees me. “Morning, Taviana,” he says.
I smile. “Hey.”
“This is Matthew and Selig.”
They both smile shyly, nod and continue eating. They look like so many of the boys I saw in Unity, with their sandy-colored hair and wiry bodies. I wonder what gave them the courage to leave.
“How are you feeling this morning?” Abigail asks. She’s wrapping two heaping sandwiches at a time in plastic wrap. These boys must have big appetites.
“Good, thanks,” I reply.
“That’s great,” she says. “So, Jimmy and I are off to work, and Matthew and Selig are off to school. The house is all yours until school gets out.”
I nod. “Is there anything
you need done?”
Abigail looks surprised that I asked. “Thank you. I suppose you could clean up the kitchen when we’re done.”
“No problem.” I pull out a chair beside Jimmy’s and reach for a piece of toast from a plate that’s stacked high with them. “Where do you work?” I ask him.
“I’m on a construction crew. We’re all over the place, wherever there’s work.” He takes two more pieces of toast and reaches for the jar of homemade jam.
“Have you finished school?”
“Yep.” He glances at Abigail, who is piling fruit, water bottles and cookies on the counter beside the sandwiches. “House rules. And I’m going to trade school in the fall. I’m just saving up money in the meantime.”
I spread peanut butter on my toast. The room has grown painfully quiet since I arrived. “So,” I say, turning to the other boys, “what grade are you guys in?”
“I’m in eleven,” Selig answers. “He’s in twelve.” Matthew nods.
“And you both lived in Unity before?”
They each nod, but no one offers anything else. What happened to the laughter that woke me up a few minutes ago?
When they’re finished their breakfast, Selig and Matthew take their dishes to the sink, rinse them and put them in the dishwasher. They grab their backpacks, which are hanging on hooks in the front hall, and fill them with the sandwiches and snacks that Abigail has put out.
Jimmy is filling a thermos with tea, and Abigail is putting the lunch makings away. “I’ll do that,” I tell her. “You get ready for work.”
“They trained you well in Unity,” she says, smiling. “Thank you.”
Once again I see a hint of softness in her weathered face. Perhaps I judged her too harshly last night. I suppose I wouldn’t be at my best either if I were dragged out of my bed in the middle of the night. She takes her mug and heads down the hall.
As I finish tidying up the kitchen, Jimmy hangs behind, watching me.
“We all still have family in Unity,” he says.
I nod.
“We miss them.”
“Oh.” I hadn’t thought about that.
“Selig’s only been here a few months. I think he’s pretty homesick. We try to keep his mind off his family.”
I nod. “I’ll try to remember that.”
“A few of them end up returning, even though they know they want more than they can ever have there.”
“Why would they go back?” I take the dishrag and wipe down the table.
“Guilt. Love. Sometimes it’s just too hard to break the ties.”
“Hmm. I wouldn’t know. I’ve never really had a family. The one I lived with in Unity was as close as I ever got.”
“Then stick with us,” he says cheerfully. “We may not be related through blood, but...sometimes the family you choose is easier to live with than the one you were given.”
I smile as best I can but don’t try to explain that it’s not going to work for me. There’s no way I’m going back to school.
I wander around the house, picking up the pictures, wondering about the faces peering out of them. I notice that the dusting hasn’t been done for a while, so I find a rag in the laundry room and get to work. Then I decide that I should vacuum as well. When that’s done, I turn on the TV and flick through the channels. It’s been a long time since I’ve done this, but not much has changed. There’s nothing on but commercials, old movies and talk shows at this time of day. None of it interests me. I flick it off.
I rifle through my suitcase, looking for something appropriate to wear for job hunting. There’s nothing, and everything I do have smells stale. I put a load in the washing machine and then pace around the house some more.
Finding myself back in the kitchen, I take a quick inventory of food. The cupboards and fridge are well stocked. Thinking about the appetites of those boys, I pull out a large mixing bowl and gather the ingredients I need to make a batch of muffins. Learning to cook was something good that came out of my time in Unity. I was always happy when I was assigned to kitchen work.
When the muffins are baking, I combine ingredients for a meat loaf and put it in the fridge for later.
After cleaning up the kitchen and putting my clothes in the drier, I go outside and take a look around the backyard. The sun is warm, and I plunk down into a lawn chair and think about how nice it is to be living in a home instead of a rented room somewhere.
I’m folding my clean clothes and putting them away when Selig and Matthew bang through the door. My heart leaps, and I rush into the hall. “Hi!”
My overenthusiastic greeting embarrasses them. “Hi,” Selig says, turning beet red and not making eye contact with me. He hangs his backpack on a hook. Matthew just grunts a greeting and walks toward the kitchen, giving me a wide berth.
“I made muffins,” I say, still over the top with enthusiasm. What has gotten into me?
That interests them. Matthew takes the margarine out of the fridge, and they sit at the table with the basket of muffins in front of them.
“How was school?” I ask, parentlike, even though I’m the same age as Matthew.
“Good,” they say in unison, their mouths full.
Matthew slathers margarine on a second one. “Have you already graduated?” he asks.
I place a jug of milk on the table. “Yep, I’m finished.” My half-truth hangs in the air between us. I decide to come clean. “But not graduated.”
Selig frowns. “Abigail’s bending the rules for you?”
“Nope. She’s giving me a week to find somewhere else to go.”
“Why don’t you just come to school with us?” he asks. “It’s not so bad.”
I reach for a muffin now too. “It would be bad for me.”
He shrugs and pours himself a second glass of milk. “I thought I’d get slagged when the kids found out where I’m from,” he says. “But everyone’s been all right. We even get invited to hang out on weekends. The first time I got invited to someone’s place, I thought maybe I was getting set up or something. But it was cool.”
I remember the guy in the park who referred to Unity as Rabbitsville. Maybe not all the kids are like that.
Matthew collapses on the couch in the living room and flicks on the TV while Selig spreads out his books on the kitchen table. I pick up the novel he’s pulled out of his bag and read the back flap. “Is this any good?” I ask him.
“Yeah, it’s okay,” he says. “But I have to do a project on it, which I’m dreading. I’m not a big reader.”
Well duh. He comes from Unity. “Do you mind if I read it for a bit?”
“Sure, go ahead. I’ve got other homework to do first.”
I take the book down the hall to my bedroom and stretch out on my bed. This is heaven.
When Jimmy arrives home, I realize that I’ve been reading for over an hour. I get up to greet him. “Hi, Taviana!” he says, smiling broadly. I smile back, surprised at how happy I am to see him. He devours two muffins before locking himself in the bathroom to shower. I preheat the oven and scrub some potatoes. Then I slide them into the oven with the meat loaf and slice up some tomatoes and cucumber. I toss them with lettuce and put the bowl of salad in the fridge. I join Selig at the table and read while he does his homework.
“Something smells wonderful in here,” Abigail comments when she gets home.
“Taviana made a meat loaf,” Matthew says, joining us in the kitchen.
“And muffins,” Selig adds.
“And I think the house has been cleaned too,” Abigail says, looking around.
I nod, glad that she noticed.
“Thanks, honey,” she says. “This is a real treat to come home to.”
“You’re welcome.”
The phone rings, and I hear Jimmy stomping into the living room to pick it up. Abigail peers into the fridge. “Wow,” she says. “You have been busy.”
“I had to do something.”
“No job hunting?”
“No.
I decided to wash all my clothes, and then I realized that I don’t own anything that’s appropriate for job hunting.”
Abigail just nods thoughtfully.
“I’ve got a bit of money, so maybe I’ll go buy something new tomorrow,” I tell her. “Unless you want it to cover my room and board here.”
“No, no. I’m sure you’re long overdue for some new clothes. And you certainly earned your keep today.”
Jimmy comes back into the kitchen with a goofy grin on his face. “Have I got a surprise for you,” he tells me.
“You do?”
“Uh-huh.”
“What is it?”
“I’m not telling. You’ll have to wait.” He turns to Abigail. “We need to talk, alone.”
“Down to my room then,” Abigail says.
Jimmy gives me another cheeky grin and follows Abigail down the hall. I open up my book and continue reading.
AFTER DINNER, MATTHEW and Selig load the dishwasher and begin doing the dishes. When I offer to help them, Abigail pushes me into the living room. “We share the work around here,” she says. “You cooked, they can clean up.”
I settle myself on the couch with the book. Boys never helped with the housework in Unity. This will take some getting used to.
I watch as Abigail hands Jimmy the car keys. “Come straight home,” she tells him.
“Where are you going?” I ask.
“To collect your surprise,” he tells me.
I shake my head, smiling, and continue reading.
“Is that Selig’s book?” Abigail asks.
I nod.
“When did you start reading it?”
“This afternoon.”
“You’re a fast reader.”
I glance down and notice that I’m about halfway through. “It’s a good book.”
“Maybe you’ll be able to help Selig with his project.”
“Yeah, maybe.” I remember a favor I want to ask. “Would it be okay with you if I give your address on my library card application?”
“Absolutely.”
“Thanks.” Now I will definitely make the trip into town tomorrow.
The house grows quiet as Matthew and Selig do homework and Abigail sits at a desk that’s pushed into a corner of the living room. She sorts through papers. I get so caught up in Selig’s novel that I don’t realize it’s getting dark until Abigail switches on a lamp beside me.
Sister Wife Page 12
