Eventually we release each other, and I introduce him to Craig. When my father sees Celeste he looks surprised. Her haircut has really changed her appearance. He hesitates and his eyes brim with tears again. “Celeste,” he says. “It’s good to see you.”
She nods, but I note she doesn’t make eye contact with him.
In that moment I’m hit with an image of them together in bed, and my stomach clenches. I’ve put it out of my mind until now, but Hope is his child, after all. It makes me sick. My year in Springdale has shown me that teenage girls are not meant to be married to men as old as their own fathers. It’s not the natural order of things. I suddenly see my father through different eyes. Why did he never question the religious practices in Unity?
Abigail directs him to an empty chair. His eyes rest on Hope, still cradled in Celeste’s arms and sleeping peacefully. “How is she doing?”
“Good. Starting to smile a little.”
My father nods. He doesn’t ask to hold her. I try to remember how many children he has now. Eighteen? Nineteen? Another sister wife had a baby after I left, but I’ve lost count.
“So,” my father says, clearing his throat. “The Prophet has directed me to bring you home, Celeste. You are my wife and belong with my family. Hope is my daughter.”
No one responds. I’ve forgotten my well-rehearsed lines. Craig comes to my rescue.
“As you know, sir, Jon plans to watch over Celeste.”
Thank you, Craig.
“And Hope too, of course,” he adds.
I can only nod. I feel completely inadequate to take care of anything.
“Our community is a better fit for Celeste,” Craig continues. “She would never be happy if she returned to Unity. I really hope you will put her needs first and choose what is best for her.”
Abigail jumps in. “Celeste and Hope will have a stable home here,” she says. “I have strict rules that Celeste has agreed to follow. I will support her as best as I can, and the others have all offered to help as well, with babysitting and tutoring. You can rest assured that she will be well taken care of.”
“It’s true, Dad,” I say, finally finding my voice. “Everyone is ready to help her. She’ll be okay.”
I can feel him looking at me, but I can’t meet his eyes.
“And how have you fared here, son?”
In that moment I know that the truth about my failure has reached my family back home. I glance at Craig and then at Abigail for help, but they only nod encouragingly. “I won’t lie to you, Dad. It hasn’t always been easy. Especially school. But I’ve learned from my mistakes and can help make sure that Celeste doesn’t make the same ones. And having Hope will be an extra incentive for her to succeed.”
I promised Abigail I wouldn’t lie, but have I really learned anything from my mistakes?
My father sighs. “This is really difficult for me,” he says. “I want to live by the rules of my faith, which tell me to take Celeste home. She will be cared for and supported there just as much as she will be here. And it’s not just me who wants you back, Celeste,” he says, looking directly at her. “You have caused suffering to your parents and your brothers and sisters, as well as to all my other wives and children.”
I was hoping he wouldn’t bring up Celeste’s family. That’s her weakness, what kept her from leaving Unity with me a year ago. I glance at her, but she simply looks at the floor.
“I hear that your sister, Rebecca, has been especially hurt by your…your choices,” he says.
Rebecca is Celeste’s little sister, whom she was particularly close to. It’s a low blow.
“You know you’ll never see any of them again, right?” It’s like the lid slamming on the coffin. I can almost hear the nails being hammered in.
Celeste still doesn’t say anything, but her hands are trembling, and she squeezes Hope tighter. I’m disgusted with my father, using this tactic to change Celeste’s mind. My respect for him crumbles.
Celeste wipes her nose with the back of her hand. Abigail gets up and passes her a box of tissues. She takes a few wipes at her eyes. Right now I have no idea what decision she’ll make. Coming into this meeting I was sure she would stay. I’m no longer so sure. Without any thought of the consequences, I move closer to her and throw my arm around her shoulder, pulling her in. She looks surprised, then looks up at me, grateful.
Hope begins to squirm. Abigail takes her from Celeste. She sways, back and forth. I can see how much she loves having a baby in her arms again.
“This…this incident,” my father says, “will be forgiven, Celeste. I promise you that no one will refer to it after you return home.”
Celeste shrinks lower under my arm. I’m losing her. I remember how in the hospital she desperately wanted to stay in Springdale with me, but the pull of her family was too much. It’s happening again.
I meet Craig’s eyes. He looks as worried as I feel.
“Dad,” I say, removing my arm from Celeste’s shoulder and sitting up taller, “Celeste wouldn’t have made the brave decision to leave Unity if she didn’t know it was the best thing for her and for Hope. Returning would be a step backward.” I shift so I can look into Celeste’s face. There are tears streaming down her cheeks. I put my fingers under her chin, lifting her face so she can look back at me. “Remember why you decided to leave Unity, Celeste? It was for Hope, wasn’t it? So she could have more choices in her life than you did. Don’t you still want that for her?”
As she looks back at me, something changes in her expression. Her jaw clenches. She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. The tension in the room is thick. I hold my own breath. Hope suddenly cries out, and we all jump.
“I’m staying here, Martin,” Celeste tells my father. There’s a collective whoosh as the air starts moving again.
I reach out to hold Celeste, and she clings fiercely to me, a life preserver.
My father hasn’t moved. His head hangs down. He stares at his clasped hands. No one says anything. Finally he looks up and meets my eyes. “I’m counting on you, Jon, to keep them both safe.”
Without thinking, I blurt out the words. “You can count on me, Dad.”
I sense the look that passes between Craig and Abigail. Neither of them believes me. I’m not sure I do either, but I’ve kept my word to them. I’ve done everything I can to keep Celeste here.
My father gets up and steps over to Abigail, who is still holding Hope. He stares down at her for a moment and then strokes her cheek with one finger. Hope looks at him with her huge blue eyes. Then he turns and heads to the door. I follow him, surprised that he’s given in so easily. Perhaps he always knew he’d be leaving without her but had to put up a fight for appearances. I follow him out to his truck, feeling sad even after all this. He’s still the father I once loved with all my heart. Now I’m never going to see him again.
“You know, Jon,” he says, “a little part of me respects both you and Celeste.”
“You’re kidding.” I can’t hide my surprise.
“No, really. Sometimes I question the Prophet too, but I never say anything.” He climbs into his truck, shuts the door and rolls down the window. “I love you, son.”
He rolls the window back up and pulls away from the curb. I watch until he’s around the corner.
Back in the house, Celeste is feeding Hope, and Craig is now sitting on the couch beside her. I find Abigail emptying the dishwasher in the kitchen. “I was proud of you today, Jon,” she says. “You really stood up for Celeste.”
It feels weird to hear that anyone could be proud of me. Especially her. “Do you know where I can find Jimmy?” I ask.
She looks at the clock on the wall. “He should be home from school in about half an hour. How come?”
I can’t meet her eyes. “I have some apologizing to do.”
“Oh.” She turns back to the dishwasher. “You’re welcome to stay and wait for him.”
“Thanks.” I watch her for a moment, undecided. Then I bite the b
ullet. “Would you mind if I clean up the garden?”
“No. I wouldn’t mind.”
“And if it’s okay with you, maybe I’ll plant vegetables again. I wouldn’t need to come into the house—I’d just enter from the lane.”
She joins me at the window and looks into the backyard. “That would be really nice, Jon.”
Epilogue
Today is my day to take care of Hope. I’ve watched her every Saturday for almost five years now, ever since Celeste decided to stay in Springdale.
Her little face is peering out the living room window, watching for me. As soon as I pull up in front of Abigail’s house, she rushes out the front door, runs across the lawn and is standing beside the car door before I can even climb out. “Jon!” she shouts as I pick her up and twirl her around. Then I pull her into a tight hug, breathing her in, my heart softening. My beautiful little sister.
She squirms, and I let her down. “Hi, Lauren,” she says, giving a cheerful wave to the girl climbing out of the passenger seat. Lauren smiles and waves back.
“What are we doing today?” Hope asks.
I squat so we’re face-to-face. “Well, first I’m taking you to Hope House with me. I’ve got to get some work done before the big celebration tomorrow, but Lauren has packed a bag of games for you and her to play. She’s also packed a picnic, with watermelon for dessert.”
“Yum!” Hope claps her hands. “Will Jimmy be there?”
“Yep. And if I can get everything done this morning, we’ll get ice cream and go to the park this afternoon.”
“Hope House! Hope House!” She begins to march around my car, chanting the name of the center that has been named for her. Hearing it always gets her going.
Celeste walks toward us with Hope’s little backpack and booster seat. “Hey,” I say, taking them from her with one hand and hugging her with my other. As always, a twinge of sadness tugs at me. I think back to those days when she first arrived at Abigail’s, and how hard we tried to resume our relationship. We’d meet on the beach and build inuksuit, like we used to in Unity, only now we didn’t have to do it on the sly. Hope would sleep under the trees in her baby carriage.
But where we used to talk endlessly about finding a way to be together, our conversations had stumbled, neither of us willing to share much about the year we were apart. It was apparent from the start that something had shifted between us. We were shy with each other, awkward. Both of us had experienced life in ways that had changed us. We’d both lost our innocence but in different ways.
Still, I was fiercely drawn to her, despite the changes I could see, and I knew that she still wanted to be with me. It had taken a few weeks, but I’d finally found the courage to coax her into the privacy of the bushes, where we lay down, like before, and I began to kiss her. It took a few moments, but slowly the tension left her body and she responded, kissing me back. It was everything I’d been dreaming of for that whole wretched year.
And then Hope had awoken with a howl, an abrupt reminder to me that Celeste had been my father’s wife, that she’d had sex with him. Hope was my sister.
In the end, I just couldn’t get past that. Celeste didn’t question why I never kissed her again. I’d catch her watching me, but I think she felt strange about it too. Technically, I was now her stepson. The weird nature of our polygamous sect meant that our being together was a kind of incest. And, of course, we were young. She was barely sixteen and I was only eighteen, even though months of living on the street had made me grow up quickly.
“Hey, Celeste,” Lauren greets her. “Studying today?”
“No,” she says. “I picked up a shift at the bistro. I’ll study tonight, after Hope’s asleep.”
“Are you looking forward to the celebration tomorrow?”
“Yeah! Totally.”
“What are you going to wear?”
Before Celeste can answer, I hand her the booster seat. “Could you strap Hope in for me?” I ask. “I need to water the vegetables while I’m here.”
I jog around to the back of the house and check my garden. Carrot greens are already poking up through the rich soil.
I was never invited to live at Abigail’s again, but I’ve been helping her out by growing vegetables each year. I’ll do the same at Hope House, and I’ll continue to deliver a weekly basket to the man across the street, the man whose hedge I hid behind the day Celeste arrived. Taviana still drops off homemade muffins to him during the winter months. Our peace offering seems to be working. Abigail’s safe home for young polygs hasn’t been shut down yet.
After spraying water on the raised beds, I jog back to the front yard, give Celeste another quick hug and then climb into my little car.
“Bye, Mommy!” Hope waves from the backseat as I pull away. Through the rearview mirror I see Celeste waving back.
Lauren, my girlfriend for the past three years, has five younger siblings, and she often brings some of their toys to share with Hope. Now she pushes a CD into the car’s ancient player and the two of them start singing along with Bobs & LoLo.
It was probably Lauren’s large family that really sealed our relationship. Being among all those little brothers and sisters almost felt like being back home. I guess her parents were willing to see past my obvious flaws and allow Lauren to date me because of the way I settled into the family as if it were my own.
When we reach Hope House, Lauren and I gather up the bags of toys and food while Hope scampers ahead of us. Hope House has been Jimmy’s project for the past three years. It started as a simple college assignment. Jimmy wrote about an imaginary safe house for girls who wanted to leave Unity. His focus had been on the kinds of support that girls need to get used to their new lives. Celeste was his main resource for the project. His teacher really liked his concept and encouraged him to turn the idea into reality.
When Alex heard about it, he began scouting around for an actual house. He found one, old and abandoned, and then he and Abigail began fundraising for renovations. It’s been a labor of love for many of us. We all pitch in between work, school and helping care for Hope. Hope will be one of the first occupants, with Celeste. Abigail will move in too, when she’s needed, and then Alex will take on the responsibilities at Abigail’s and watch over the boys who continue to arrive each year.
The big question is whether other girls like Celeste will be brave enough to escape. That’s where Taviana has helped out, slipping into Unity dressed in Celeste’s old dress and staying away from the older generation. She reconnects with the girls she knew during the months she lived there, finding them on the playground with their small children or out hanging clothes on lines or working in their gardens. Jimmy wants to entice the girls away before they are assigned to a marriage. He coached Taviana to plant in them the seed of hope for a better future, like he did with us boys, but it’s more likely that Hope House will be a refuge for young polygamist wives and mothers. Underage girls who leave create a whole other set of problems, such as kidnapping charges. Parents don’t often come after the Lost Boys, but the girls are another matter. Still, if the young mothers know that they have a place to run to, they may be more willing to leave.
I’d fantasized about getting Celeste’s little sister Rebecca out as a way to get back at Dad for using her to try to lure Celeste back to Unity. Jimmy had to convince me that she’s still way too young. Maybe someday. At least now there is somewhere for her and all my little sisters to come to. Abigail holds out hope for her granddaughters.
As Lauren and I approach the house I notice a strange object on the porch. A bright orange tarp is draped over a shape taller than me and wider. I walk toward it, but Lauren tugs my hand, pulling me back.
“What is it?” I ask. Obviously she knows something I don’t.
“A surprise,” she says. “You’ll find out tomorrow.”
I look at her for a moment, wondering how she can know something about this project that I don’t. I’m tempted to pull my hand free and run over to investigat
e, but she steps in front of me and gets up on her tippy-toes to give me a kiss. It’s a lingering one, and I forget about the unidentified object for a moment.
“Hey, you two.” Alex’s voice draws me back to the present. He’s standing at the door, watching us. “You’re here to work.”
“Sorry, Alex,” Lauren says. “He was about to go uncover the you-know-what.”
“Ah, good work, Lauren. Jimmy was supposed to keep him away from it. Come this way and check things out, Jon.”
I follow him into the house. It’s a beehive of activity. There’s a plumber working under the kitchen sink, an electrician in the utility room and a couple of friends painting interior walls. In the week since I was last here, the donated furniture has been delivered and put into place.
“How does it look?” Alex asks.
“Amazing!”
I wander around, admiring the donated couches and chairs. In the kitchen I open the cupboard doors and find the shelves fully stocked with dishes and cooking utensils that Abigail and Taviana purchased from secondhand stores.
Down the hall, the four small bedrooms each have beds and nightstands. Cushions and extra blankets add an inviting touch. I suspect the three additional bedrooms in the basement look much the same, though it may be a while before all the rooms are occupied, if they ever are. This is still a project based on faith, as well as on hope.
“Where shall I start?” I ask Alex once Lauren and Hope have settled in the living room to play board games.
My relationship with Alex, though strained after I first apologized, has been patched up, and I’m now a supervisor in his company. He hired me back on the condition that I give up all drugs and alcohol. That wasn’t too difficult once I had purpose in my life again—the promise I made to my father. Alex then surprised me by offering me a room in his home for minimal rent.
At first I was shocked by his generosity and unable to accept this kindness. After what I’d done, how could he trust me again? But I did eventually move out of Craig’s parents’ house and into a spare bedroom at Alex’s place, and I stayed there until I could afford to rent a basement suite with a carpenter friend.
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