CHAPTER 22
Anna Torstensen called me Monday afternoon to ask me if she could come over. A few minutes later, I opened the door and let her into the front room. She seemed full of energy, which I rather envied after the exhausting time I’d had dealing with the Helms. She was carrying a manila file folder and spread it out in front of me on the coffee table.
“I found these papers,” she said, tapping at them vigorously, “after I talked to Tobias’s lawyer. He claimed that Tobias had never revised his will from before we were married. But he has an address listed on some of Tobias’s correspondence that he thinks is Tobias’s first wife.”
“What?” I said.
She nodded, and I realized that I had misinterpreted her energy. She was shaking with anger and fear, not joy. “He says that half of the money could potentially go to her, if she is still alive.” Her voice was moving all over, up and down. “He also said that it’s possible that if she is still alive, Tobias’s marriage to me is illegal and that she could claim that all of his money is hers. That my marriage to him was bigamous because there was never any divorce.”
I was stunned. “She can’t be alive, surely.” The hammer with hair on it. The dress with blood on it. The odd gravestone in the garden. Had I misunderstood all of it?
“The lawyer had photos of her, and several letters. It sounds like she talked about coming back home at some point, when the boys were older and she could explain where she had been.”
“Where had she been?” I asked.
She pushed one of the pages at me, neatly written in nice schoolteacher loops. “She was in California, I guess.”
“But why?” Why any of this? Why would she leave her sons so mysteriously? I scanned the letter, but there was no answer there. It was just kind words about coming home and how much she missed Tobias and the boys, and how sorry she was. Was that what a woman who felt guilty about leaving would write? Was it what Carrie Helm would write if she had to explain herself to Kelly?
“Even if she’s dead now, my marriage to Tobias wouldn’t have been legal at the time. I can’t inherit because there’s no common law wife statute in Utah.”
“I’m so sorry,” I said. I knew she didn’t care about money or even the house. The boys would let her stay in it anyway. But the humiliation and disrespect she must feel—and she had to deal with it at the same time as her grief. So unfair.
Anna was pacing in a short line, up and down the small space of my front room. “He was even corresponding with her two years after he and I were married. And yet he never said a word to me about her being alive or coming back into his life. He didn’t say anything about needing to get a divorce.” She stopped pacing and threw up her arms. “What kind of man does that?”
I took the moment to draw her down to sit on the couch. “I don’t know. I’m sure you feel very confused.” Though in a way, this made more sense out of the fact that Tobias hadn’t wanted to be sealed to Anna. He must have known that the more scrutiny he brought to himself and his marriages, the more likelihood there was that his deception would be discovered.
In order for a couple to be granted a temple divorce, a lot of paperwork has to be filled out, and often the couple has to wait a year. The First Presidency of the church has to approve it officially, and while I don’t know exactly how much personal supervision that entails, it isn’t a rubber-stamping process. The Mormon church wants to make sure people take marriage seriously, both before and after making their covenants.
“I feel so betrayed.” Anna stared out the window, as if she couldn’t bear to look me in the face.
“Of course you do. You were betrayed.”
“Do you think he was planning to divorce me and remarry her all along?” she asked desperately.
I patted her hands. “No, I’m sure he wouldn’t have done that. He was in love with you. And besides, she had left him once. Why would he give her a chance to do it again?” I paused, thinking. “It must have been for the boys. Were they having a particularly hard time when all this happened? Can you remember?”
I must have said the right thing because Anna turned back to me, her eyes glistening. “Oh, yes,” she said. “How could I have forgotten? The first year Tobias and I were married, Tomas and Liam got along very well with me. But the second year—Liam was so angry with me. He would try to push me out of the room when we were all together. He refused to call me Mom or even Anna. I was ‘her’ or ‘the lady.’ ” She was smiling at this old memory, instead of feeling hurt. That said a lot about her and how she was capable of moving past hurt. I hoped it would serve her well in this.
“He wouldn’t eat any food that I made for him,” Anna went on nostalgically. “If I served him dinner, he would get up and make himself a peanut butter sandwich, or just starve. And then he started to spit in my food, or put dirt in my side of the bed. He poured honey in between the keys of the new piano Tobias bought for my birthday. He was such a terror. Every time I turned my head, he was off doing something naughty.”
“And that’s when Tobias was writing to Helena?” I asked.
She looked down at the letters and held up one of them, underlining the date, November 1985. “Maybe he was just trying to find her for the boys. Poor Liam. I don’t think it would have helped him at all if his mother had returned. He would have hated her just as much as he hated me. Possibly more. But I can see how Tobias might have thought differently.”
I couldn’t help but think of Kelly Helm. If Carrie came back, how would it affect her? Carrie had been gone too long for there to be no changes in their relationship. When a mother abandons you, you can’t simply take her back like that. You can’t forget that she left and go on like you weren’t afraid she would go away again.
But Anna’s expression had darkened again. “What about all those years I spent with Tobias? I was his mistress, not his wife. We were living in sin all that time.”
“You didn’t know,” I said. “I’m sure no one could hold you responsible.” But that didn’t mean their family wouldn’t be torn apart by the truth.
“But what will happen to Tobias?” asked Anna.
“You mean, will he face excommunication posthumously?” That wasn’t something the church bothered with much, though there were occasions when people’s records were reinstated posthumously.
“And how will I tell the boys?” Anna went on.
Anna wasn’t at fault for any of this. But that didn’t mean her sons wouldn’t blame her. How could Tobias leave this for her to deal with after he was gone?
And then a thought occurred to me. “Can I see the photos of this woman the lawyer showed you? I’m curious.”
Anna looked through the piles and handed me some of the photos, all of a woman alone, on the beach or next to a building with blue skies overhead. I compared them to the wedding photo, which Anna had also tucked into the envelope, whether in anger or because she had also compared the faces.
The women were superficially quite similar: dark-haired, petite, with slightly pointed chins. But the eyes did not look at all the same to me. And the nose was certainly not the same. The Helena in the wedding photograph had a tiny, button nose. The other woman’s nose was rather large for her face and it had a bump on it, as if it had been broken at some point.
I let out a long breath and tapped the photo of the other woman. This wasn’t about bigamy.
“What is it?” said Anna.
I held out the two most distinct photographs. “Do you really think that’s the same woman?”
“I already looked at them. I thought it was.” She stared down at them again. “I don’t know,” she said softly. “She would have gotten older. Life might have been hard on her.” She touched the second picture, her fingertip landing on the bump. “It looks like her nose was broken.”
“But the nose is too big. Your nose doesn’t get bigger as you age. Not that much bigger, anyway.”
“Hmm,” said Anna. “I see what you mean.” She looked at the photo more closely. “Maybe she had plastic surgery or something.”
“To make her nose larger?” It certainly wasn’t what most women wanted.
“Maybe she was trying to hide her identity. Make sure that Tobias and the boys couldn’t find her.” I could tell even she didn’t believe what she was saying.
“It doesn’t sound in the letter like she was trying to hide.”
“What do you think it all means?” asked Anna.
I was making an enormous leap, but what if sometime soon after his marriage to Anna, Tobias had in a moment of doubt found a woman who looked like his deceased wife and had tried to use her to pretend that Helena was still alive? Then Anna and Tobias had been legally married all along, and the only sin here had been Tobias’s wishful thinking. Cautiously, I laid out this theory for Anna.
“So, she would have to prove she is actually Helena in order to get anything,” I said, nodding at the newer photograph of the woman with the big nose.
“I suppose. The lawyer is going to send a private detective out.”
“But if she isn’t Helena, then Tobias didn’t deceive you, right?”
“I don’t know,” said Anna. “It seems so far-fetched.” She had her hands balled up now.
“More than Tobias lying to you all these years and pretending his wife was dead?” Or my imagined history of him killing his own wife and burying her in the backyard? Surely this was the least difficult version of his life to believe in.
“Do you need anything while the will is in probate? The church might be able to help if you have bills to pay.” She’d said that Tobias had already paid for his own funeral, but I didn’t know about other funds. Did she have anything for groceries? For gas?
Anna took a breath and shook out her hands. She seemed more herself. “Thank you, but I’m sure I’ll be fine. In fact, I’m thinking of going back to work full-time. And there’s enough in our checking account for me to get by for a few months even if the will is contested.”
“Well, then I just hope it doesn’t drag on for much longer than that.”
She collected the papers and put them back in the manila envelope. I expected her to leave then, but she remained seated and her feet tapped the carpet.
“Can I get you some tea?” I asked.
“No, that’s not why I’m still here. I wanted to know—Linda, tell me what you think about the house. Should I keep it?”
“You’re thinking of selling it? Where would you go?” The thought of her leaving the ward just after I had found a deep friendship with her was sudden and sour, like the taste of vinegar if I’d been expecting juice.
“The whole idea that Tobias could have lied to me, that my whole life might have been a lie—it has made me feel differently about myself. Or maybe it has made me see myself truly for the first time. I was always the dutiful wife, doing whatever Tobias needed me to do. I didn’t argue with him. I gave up my job and never complained about it, never thought of going back while the boys were young. When I did go back, I always worked my hours around the family. I always made sure he had what he wanted, what he and the boys needed. But if I hadn’t given up so much, maybe I wouldn’t be so upset. Maybe I wouldn’t have wanted so much to believe that my life with him was real.”
“But you didn’t give up yourself. Anna, you were always independent,” I said.
“Then how did this happen? I must have done something wrong. And even if I didn’t, I’ve been considering starting over again. Now that Tobias is gone, it just feels like I should be waiting to die, too. I don’t want to do that. I want to move on. I don’t want to sit and feel obligated to keep up Tobias’s garden. I want to have my own life. I want to see the world. I want to go on a cruise. I want to go on dates with other men.” She was blushing furiously. “Do you think that’s wrong of me? Selfish?”
Tobias had died only ten days before, but maybe this was what she needed to do. “No, of course not. I mean, it may be a little selfish, but there is nothing wrong with taking care of yourself, Anna. Tobias is dead. The boys are raised. If you don’t want to stay in that house, I don’t see why you should have to.” Though I hated the idea of her not being in the ward for my own selfish reasons.
“I suggested it to the boys and they were very angry. Maybe it was too soon after Tobias died. Liam told me that selling the family home would be like his father dying all over again. All our memories are there.”
Liam and Anna hadn’t ever loved each other easily, had they? I couldn’t say the same was true for me and any of my boys, but sometimes I thought that Kenneth and Kurt were always butting heads in this same way, always misunderstanding each other, always being hurt by misinterpretations. But in this case, I was on Anna’s side. “If he wants it, then he can buy it back from you. He’s inheriting money from Tobias’s death, isn’t he?”
“Yes, a good deal of it. And I noticed he didn’t suggest that. He already has his own plans for that money, I suspect.”
“Then there’s no reason that you can’t have plans for your own life, too,” I said tartly. I felt a little jealous, strangely. I had never traveled the world. I had never even planned to do that. I just had the view out my window and kept my sights on visiting my kids when I had time. “I’m glad, Anna. You should have some happiness. I hope you do remarry and have a wonderful life.”
Anna met my eyes and I could see sadness combined with enthusiasm in them. I was surprised that after the double blow she’d suffered, she could bounce back so well. The news about the other Helena (or whoever she was) might have paralyzed Anna. But she seemed as strong as on that first day when I went to visit her after Kurt put her name on the refrigerator.
“I will miss you, Linda. And your husband. You’ve been so kind to me. I will miss the whole ward.” She stood up.
I stood up, too, reluctantly. “Of course you will. But there’s a time to move on.” I was trying to be calm about this, though I had never felt as close to a friend as I did to Anna. I had thought we would have more time. I tried to smile. “More happiness in the world is what we’re here for, isn’t it? Man is that he might have joy? And woman, too?” I changed the scripture delicately.
Anna let out a funny squawking sound, half laugh, half sob. “I’m glad you said that. Thank you. And it’s not that I don’t want to be with Tobias forever. I always wanted that, even if he didn’t. But now that he’s gone, it feels like I have other things I need to do. Maybe that means finding another man. Maybe not. But there are other things out there to do than just finding another man, don’t you think?”
I followed her toward the door. “I wish I could go on the cruise with you,” I said. “Or see Europe. I’ve always wanted to go traveling.”
“You still have Samuel at home. But soon enough you’ll be able to do the same thing,” said Anna.
Maybe, I thought. When Kurt was released as bishop, could I talk him into going on a cruise? Or going on a world tour to all the sites I was itching to see? Or would he just end up in another church calling that took more time and energy than this one did? And what about Kelly Helm?
Strange that she was the first on my list of responsibilities, and not my own sons.
“Too bad your husband is so young and healthy, eh?” said Anna with a smile.
As I closed the door behind her, I thought about how her mood had swung over the course of the hour or less she had been here. She had been distraught, and was now cracking jokes. Maybe none of her decisions now would last. After all, she was still grieving. I remembered that first month when people told me that I would never get over my daughter’s loss. It hadn’t been what I wanted to hear. I thought I was too strong to be in pain forever. I just had to get through this day, and the next, and eventually, I would heal.
I never had, and didn’t expect to anymore. But that didn’t mean that either Anna or I couldn’t have joy left in our lives, whatever form that came in.