Favorite Wife

by Susan Ray Schmidt

  We loaded our bags into the trunk of a gold-colored Chevelle, and Verlan hastened to open the door for us. Charlotte quickly scooted past me and slid onto the front seat beside Verlan. Involuntarily, my fists clenched. Wasn’t this my honeymoon?

  “So!” Verlan said gaily, “How’s everything been going? Everybody well? Kids all okay?”

  “Everyone’s just fine, thank you, Verlan,” Charlotte snapped. Verlan looked at me over the top of her head and winked.

  As we reached the main thoroughfare, I immediately saw why he’d said what he had about Tijuana traffic. Cars were cutting in and out, dodging around each other, and giving the impression of complete chaos. Verlan skillfully maneuvered the car around a stalled truck, then turned south onto the road toward Ensenada.

  “Has Joel shown up from Chihuahua yet?” he smoothly continued his questions to Charlotte. “Have you heard from the guys in Vegas? They were supposed to call about that huge paint job we bid on. I wonder if we got it.”

  Charlotte answered his questions in monosyllables. She sat stiffly between Verlan and me, and I found myself feeling sorry for her. I knew his marrying me had taken her by surprise—a totally unpleasant surprise. You need to say something to her, I told myself. Try to break the ice. Taking a deep breath, I hesitantly said, “Verlan and I had a lovely honeymoon, Charlotte. The Mazatlán train ride was just beautiful. We’ve had a wonderful time.” When she didn’t answer, I glanced at Verlan. He was scowling at me, so I muttered, “And conference was real nice, too.”

  She made no comment, and I gave up trying to make conversation. Verlan took over the job, asking Charlotte about her schoolwork and other activities she was involved in. Then he told her the details of conference. I eagerly looked out the window at the scenery, letting Verlan’s words float past me until he abruptly said, “Charlotte, I can’t begin to tell you how sick I feel about what’s going on with Dan and Ervil. You should have heard the song and dance Dan gave me in Chihuahua the other day about Ervil’s position over the church. He informed me that Ervil holds full authority, that he has the power to remove Joel from the presidency. And that he plans to do it if Joel doesn’t begin to see things his way in regard to the Civil Law. I laughed in his face, Charlotte—I couldn’t help it! And now Ervil’s talking of forcing people to go to church so they can learn about the Civil Law. Then they won’t have any excuse if they break it.” Verlan glanced in the rearview mirror and tightened his grip on the wheel.

  Charlotte stared at Verlan. “But that would do away with people’s religious freedom! Doesn’t he see that?”

  “I guess not,” Verlan said dryly. “Even if he does, at this point it wouldn’t matter to him. In one of the meetings, Ervil made no bones about his position. Joel had to leave for a few minutes, and while he was gone, Ervil stated to the rest of us that he knows as surely as God lives that his program is the only one that will establish God’s Kingdom. He said he’s aware that there are men in high positions who disagree, and it would either be them, or him! Unbelievable! I tremble to think what he means by that.”

  Charlotte snorted. “Ervil doesn’t have the guts to carry out his threats.” She looked over at Verlan when he didn’t answer. “You’re not worried about it, are you?”

  Verlan shook his head, but I could tell by his eyes that he wasn’t saying how he really felt. The conversation between them filled me with alarm. Verlan hadn’t talked to me about any of these things! It was all new information to me. Ervil had said either them or him? He meant Joel and Verlan, of course. Either they had to go—or he would go. Either way, the church was in for upheaval. I closed my eyes, trying to block my feelings of unease. Then I stared out the car window at the Ensenada coastline. The beauty of it seemed unreal after the subtle horror of Verlan’s words.

  Mesmerized, I watched the rolling ocean waves breaking into frothy foam against the shore. The sea was new and intoxicating, its crashing roar sweeping me into a trance with its power. Looking over the immense, breathtaking body of water, I realized what an insignificant part I played in God’s universe. Even in my new family, my dubious role was absorbed amidst the problems in the church, the wives and the children who had a claim to my husband. At least Verlan talked to Charlotte. He told her what was going on in his world. I wondered if he would ever feel free to talk to me about the things that worried him.

  His voice had become a blur as I watched the sea. Suddenly his speech returned into sharp focus as he told Charlotte of Ervil’s secret marriage to Debbie. The new, fearful emotions that I was experiencing ached in my chest and throat. Verlan’s words about Ervil had filled us all with a sense of impending disaster.

  The freeway followed the sea for hours, and finally signs told us we were coming into Ensenada. My senses told me we were entering a city that smelled like spoiled fish. The smell became worse as we made our way to where Verlan’s family lived, in a small suburb seven miles from the city.

  Several little shanties lined the dusty, unpaved streets of the suburb and were haphazardly situated between the nicer adobe homes. The hamlet appeared dirty and trashy. Rusted barbed wire fences fell onto weed-covered yards. I was shocked this was the romantic Ensenada I had heard so much about, where Verlan had chosen to raise his children. This—was to be my new home?

  We drove past a smelly winery with a corrugated tin tower set off to the side. Verlan turned the corner and pulled the car into a big barbed wire enclosed yard that was littered with trash and spindly weeds. Dust boiled around us in soft swirls as Verlan braked to a stop, then it settled on the car in a fine layer of gray powder.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Sprawled in front of me was a one level, purplish brown clapboard house. Out the front door poured streams of children yelling, “Daddy, Daddy!” kicking up the dust as they ran toward us. Verlan was out of the car in a flash and hugging children. Sliding out, I stepped aside for Charlotte to get to her children. I watched the reunion self-consciously, anxious for it to be over so Verlan could introduce me.

  The door of the big house opened, and Lucy, Verlan’s third wife, came onto the porch. She hesitated momentarily as she wiped her hands on her apron. I remembered Lucy from my childhood, and I had fallen from her mulberry tree in Colonia LeBaron. She’d rescued me, carried me to the house, and patched up my scraped knees and elbows. Her kindness had left a warm, pleasant memory, and I knew she would welcome me.

  As expected, there was a welcoming smile on her face. Then she walked into Verlan’s arms and hugged him tight. He rocked back and forth with her, and it reminded me of how he had done with me that day in the field outside of Grandma LeBaron’s, the day he asked me to marry him. I quickly looked away.

  Verlan released Lucy and walked around the car. He squeezed and kissed me in front of everyone. “Welcome home, Susan,” he cried happily. Turning to the waiting family he said, “Lucy, children, this is Susan. She’s part of our family now, and I want you to make her feel welcome. Susan, do you remember Lucy?”

  Lucy stepped forward and wrapped her thin arms around me. Her gentle, light-blue eyes were moist as she looked into mine. “Welcome into the family, Susan. We’re glad to have you.” Her voice was sincere. My! I thought, what a difference between her and Charlotte.

  From out of the crowd of children appeared a tall, very good-looking young man. “Remember me?” Verlan Jr. grinned. “We used to compete against each other in spelling bees, back in Colonia LeBaron. Remember?” He scratched his head, “Let me see, was it seven—or was it eight years ago?”

  One by one the children came and hugged me. “Hello, Aunt Susan,” several of them shyly said. They seemed determined to make me feel welcome, and I laughed with relief. After Charlotte’s coolness, I’d feared the others’ attitudes. Aunt Susan! The title thrilled me.

  We trudged into the living room, and I sat on the couch. The smaller children crowded around and stared at me
. One of the younger boys couldn’t take his solemn, blue eyes off me. “You’re pretty,” he announced suddenly.

  “Thank you,” I laughed, embarrassed. I impulsively leaned and kissed his wind-burned cheek. “What’s your name?” I asked.

  “Byron. And I’m five.” His serious eyes never left mine as he added, “I’m glad my dad married you.”

  With an audible sound of exasperation, Charlotte stalked from the room. An uncomfortable silence descended as the rest of the family stared after her. I watched her retreating back with dismay.

  Verlan whispered apologetically, “Don’t worry about her. She’ll come around.”

  He chatted with Lucy and the children for a while, and then excused himself to visit Beverly, his fourth wife. She hadn’t arrived to welcome us with the family, and I guessed that she, too, would have to “come around.” Beverly lived with her baby daughter in a tiny, one-room house behind the main house. I vaguely remembered her from years ago in Colonia LeBaron. She was a Mexican girl, a daughter of one of the first “Lamanite” members of the Church. We called the Mexican people “Lamanites” because of a man named Laman, a prominent figure in the Book of Mormon. According to Joseph Smith, Laman’s family was originally from Israel, and they traveled by boat to the American continent around 600 BC. The story told that God cursed Laman with a dark skin because of his sins, and we believed that the American Indians who populated both North and Central America were descendants of this man.

  I wanted no tension with my new sister-wives. It was expected of us to love one another and to maintain harmony in our husband’s home, but from Charlotte’s cool reception, I wondered if all of Verlan’s wives supported polygamy.

  Charlotte’s two oldest girls, Rhea and Laura, pulled me up off the couch. “Come on, Aunt Susan. Want to see your trailer?” Rhea asked.

  Rhea was only a year younger than me. I giggled and answered, “You’re not planning to call me Aunt Susan, too, are you? Just call me Susan, okay?”

  “Okay,” she agreed.

  We walked through the enormous dining room where they proudly showed me the dining bar that Verlan had built. The bar was attached to all the surrounding walls. “This is so there’s room for all of us to eat at once,” Laura explained. Grinning, she added, “That takes quite a bit of table space.”

  Both girls were tall and large-boned, with brown hair and eyes. They resembled their mother except that their faces were friendly while Charlotte’s was not. We strolled outside, past a cement slab that held an old Maytag wringer washing machine, and two huge tubs. We walked past the outhouse to a small, white and turquoise–colored trailer. It contained a bed with a heavy, homemade quilt for a bedspread, a small couch, a built-in nightstand and dresser, a tiny table and chairs, and a closet. My suitcase and overnight bag were on the bed. I looked around and tried to envision that this was my new home, at least presently. Surely before long Verlan would provide me a nice little house.

  Kicking the dust from their shoes, Rhea and Laura crowded in behind me and sat at the table. They watched with unveiled interest as I unpacked, and placed my things in the dresser. “This is going to be so much fun, having you married to Daddy!” Rhea giggled. “We don’t have many friends our age to do things with around here. All our school friends live too far away, so we get bored.”

  “Yeah,” Laura chimed in. “Do you play jacks?”

  Before I could answer, the door opened and Verlan appeared. His eyes were sparkling with happiness, and he leaned over and gave each of the girls a smacking kiss, then pulled me near him on the bed. Leaning his back against the wall, he wrapped his arms around me and sighed with contentment.

  “Do you girls have any idea how lucky and blessed I feel having a beautiful new wife to add to our family?” He grinned. “God is so good to me. I don’t know what I’ve ever done to deserve her, but she’s going to be such a blessing to us. I just know it.” He hugged me and kissed my cheek.

  Embarrassed, I looked at the girls. They grinned, exchanged glances, and then turned their attentions to the floor. Verlan was sure giving me a reputation to uphold. How did he expect me to be a blessing to his family? What was I supposed to do?

  Verlan released me and continued visiting with the girls. He teased them and made them laugh. It was obvious they adored him. Enviously, I watched their easy, close relationship. No strain. No tension. I wanted so much to have that, so much that my heart ached. I remembered too, how easily he had conversed with Charlotte.

  Soon one of the boys pounded on the door. “Aunt Lucy said to come to supper!” he yelled in a high-pitched tone. We traipsed into the dining room amidst the clamor of fourteen children and two women. The children were all seated at the bar, their backs to the center of the room. In the midst of the room was a dining room table, set for four. Verlan and I seated ourselves at the adult table with Charlotte and Lucy, while the girls sat at the bar. Verlan said a long blessing, thanking the Lord for his goodness, and for giving him such a lovely family. He prayed for the church and for Joel. His voice was resonant and sincere, and I swallowed my emotions.

  Fried potatoes, mashed beans, and green salad began to disappear, along with the thick slices of homemade wheat bread. Throughout the meal the children kept up a lively chatter. Lucy and Charlotte spoon-fed their babies, who gooed and cried and added to the din, which made it hard for the adults to converse. I covertly watched Verlan’s wives. Charlotte remained withdrawn, and heeded only her dinner and the baby on her lap. Even without makeup, she was an attractive woman. She wore her long brown hair in a severe French twist, which detracted from her appeal. Her best features were her wistful brown eyes and long dark lashes. I knew I was partly at fault for her melancholy attitude. I presumed she was also concerned regarding the problems within the church.

  I glanced at Lucy who, like Charlotte, was Verlan’s age. But unlike Charlotte, Lucy seemed relaxed and happy as she joked with Verlan. She was thin and angular with a large nose and blue eyes framed by pale lashes. Her mousy brown hair was thin and short. The gentle, giving ways of a selfless spirit shone from her eyes. It was obvious she deeply loved Verlan and wanted his happiness.

  Before we had finished the meal, Rhea and Laura began clearing the dishes and the leftovers. I watched them and marveled at their efficiency. As they heated the huge kettle of water for the dishes, they swept the cement floors and scrubbed the dining bar and table. They needed no instructions, and they worked quickly.

  Soon, Verlan’s huge family drifted to the living room, with some of us sitting on the floor and piano bench. The room buzzed with conversation and laughter. How would it be, I wondered, if his twelve other children and three absent wives were also here? I glanced about the living room and tried to convince myself that I belonged here. The room was plain, the furnishings threadbare. The sofas were a faded plum color. A tattered oval rug covered the cement floor. The cotton drapes at the windows were magenta colored with white orchids throughout the material. In one corner of the room on a small bed, Lucy’s flaxen-haired toddler amazingly slept through the din.

  Verlan sat beside me as children crowded for a seat on either side of us. Verlan looked around with obvious pleasure as he squeezed my hand. I glanced at him and smiled nervously.

  “Lucy, go to the piano and play us some songs,” Verlan said enthusiastically. “We could use some singing.” Soon we were all crowding around Lucy as she played hymns. Charlotte stood beside me, and I glanced at her as we sang. Her eyes briefly met mine. For the first time since Verlan and I had joined her in Tijuana, she gave me a tight little smile. Involuntarily, my eyes teared. The tension eased some, and I fervently thanked the Lord for the tiny show of acceptance.

  Insisting it was still our honeymoon, Verlan spent the night with me in the small trailer. Guilt gnawed at me, as I lay in his arms, aware of his three wives nearby who must undoubtedly be wishing he was with them rather than me
. I shifted positions on the hard mattress and pulled the covers higher on my body. I could understand why the bulky quilts were on the bed. The ocean air lent a teeth-chattering, damp cold that filtered through the loose-fitting windows and had me shivering under the heavy blankets. I was glad for Verlan’s warm body.

  As I lay listening to his snoring, I had lots to ponder. A whole new family! So many children! I wondered at Verlan’s memory of their identities. They seemed well mannered, sweet, and anxious for my friendship. Lucy had accepted me, and Charlotte was beginning to. There was still Beverly, whose absence spoke volumes. Verlan hadn’t insisted I meet her in a timely manner, which led me to believe she was upset at his taking another wife. Living so close, we would surely meet soon. If we were planning to serve the Lord, we would need to compromise.

  At the first sign of daylight, Verlan arose from bed. In his garments, he shivered as he dressed. I snuggled under the quilts, wishing he were still holding me. Reaching my hand to him, I silently begged him to stay. His mirrored reflection grinned as he combed his hair. “So, you’re beginning to like having me around, hey? What happened to the scared girl who I had to chase to make love to a few days ago?”

  “She’d rather be scared than cold,” I retorted. I pulled my icy hand back under the covers. “Where are you going?”

  “I thought I’d have breakfast with Beverly, maybe see if I can make her feel better. Then later on today I’ll head on down to Los Molinos and spend a day or two with Ester and Irene. Joel should be down there by then. I need to have a meeting with him while I’m here in Baja.”

  He faced me, his hand on the doorknob. “See if you can get to know your sister-wives a little better while I’m gone. Lucy’s a fine woman, and really glad you’re ours.” He hesitated a moment, then said, “Don’t worry about Charlotte, Susan. She’ll be a bit cool to you for a while, but she’ll get used to the idea.” He winked at me and left the trailer. I could hear the squeaky hinges of the old outhouse as he went in for his morning visit.