Chapter 3
For years I had prayed that sex with my husband would bring me some sort of pleasure, a deeper connection to the man I married. For years I’d asked God to fix whatever it was that was wrong with me, because I knew it must be me. I must be the problem.
Rebecca said she used to “lose herself” in Burt, overflowing with the passion that built between them before they exploded together. Those whispered confessions of hers late at night made my heart yearn to experience that intensity of emotion. I wanted to lose myself in Lehi, to feel something when he grunts? collapses onto my chest, and grows soft inside me.
But I didn’t.
All I felt was relief.
When it was over, he would talk to me for a little while and would ask about my week. It was those moments I craved. Those moments when someone asked me about my day, about my life. It didn’t happen often . . . only when Lehi shared my bed. When he fell asleep with his arm draped over my belly, I was left alone with my thoughts.
And lately, those thoughts were always about Burt and Rebecca. About their all-consuming love and how desperately I wished I could feel that way for Lehi.
? ? ?
Last night was our first night together since the reassignment. As always, Lehi knocked on my door after making his rounds and saying good night to his other wives. I was sitting, staring into the mirror of my vanity while I touched up my makeup, knowing that Lehi preferred a painted face.
Although makeup was not allowed in our community, Lehi requested that I wear it privately on the nights he joined me in my bed. Once every week, behind closed doors, I dabbed at my nose with powder, applied scarlet color to my lips, and lined my eyes with jet-black liquid eyeliner.
That was Lehi’s preferred image of me. The different colors brought out my features and gave me a more exotic appearance. But I didn’t feel like me. I was being painted for someone else . . . like I was a prop, a toy, a possession. It made me feel as if I weren’t a person with feelings, thoughts, or desires of my own.
“Come in,” I said, watching as my husband cracked open the door.
“Is now a good time?” he asked.
Lehi was generally a polite man unless you made him angry, and then he transformed into someone unrecognizable. I’d managed to avoid Lehi’s wrath since joining the family, but had witnessed it directed at Leandra several times when errors were made in his weekly schedule, or the family budget was misused.
It was then that he’d raise his voice, his face turning the color of a beet. He’d throw things, punch walls, and then retreat to his study to calm down. Leandra was his first wife; they had a history and a unique relationship that I could never quite know, and most of me didn’t want to know. That was their relationship; I was told to focus on my own with him.
“Yes, of course.”
I stood up, shifting nervously as I stood barefoot in my long cotton nightgown, hoping that Lehi would approve of my appearance. A grin appeared on his face as he took in the sight of me, and I was relieved to have pleased him. He approached and extended his tanned hand to me, his fingers long and thin, and calloused from hard work. I placed my pale fingers into his palm and he squeezed them tightly, then led me to the bed.
“I’ve missed you,” he said as he ran his other hand through his brown hair, shot through with silver strands.
Lehi Cluff was exactly fifty years old when we’d married, more than double my age of nineteen. He had looked older than his years back then, and even more so now. Deep grooves bracketed his mouth and his skin sagged. Dark smudges ringed his eyes, signaling his exhaustion from balancing so many wives and children.
But I’d listened closely as he’d talked to me late at night when we were alone together. What he didn’t say was as telling, sometimes, as what he did. He’d never admit that this lifestyle, this gateway to the kingdom of heaven, was aging him at a rapid rate. Lehi was a devout elder of the church who believed wholeheartedly in what he’d been taught all his life. He was determined to please the prophet, maintain his place in the priesthood of the church, and die having lived the life he was meant to live.
Sheepishly, I nodded, knowing Lehi preferred that I allow him to control the conversation until after our lovemaking was over.
“Thank you for your patience. I’m sure this has been quite challenging.”
I shook my head and looked at the floor. Guilt consumed me. It wasn’t patience that motivated my cooperation; having Rebecca share my room was a welcome break from my time with Lehi. But I couldn’t let my husband know that.
“More than anyone, you welcomed Rebecca with open arms. And I appreciate that. As does our Lord. She was meant to join our family. Thank you for seeing that, Brinley.”
His fingers cupped my chin and guided my gaze so that it met his. His eyes were kind but detached, as if this was a routine he’d memorized years before. Slowly, he unbuttoned my nightgown and guided it to the floor. I turned my neck, allowing him access. Immediately, he placed perfunctory kisses on my skin, then gripped my braid in his hand and guided me to lie on the bed, under the covers.
Lehi always made sure the covers rested on his back when we laid together, and this night was no different. He nudged my legs apart with his knee and pushed himself inside me. A pinching sensation that I’d grown used to was present at first, but dissipated slightly as I desperately tried to relax and enjoy this time with my husband.
But I couldn’t.
Again and again he pushed inside me as I trained my gaze on the ceiling. I crossed my ankles behind his back, and my toes brushed against the crisp cotton sheets. Through it all, his lips never touched mine, his hands never left my neck or shoulders. A need swept over me, a desire to be touched elsewhere, to be wanted by him more, but I didn’t know how. As he pushed with all his might, I gripped his back and waited for it to end.
With one final grunt, Lehi sank onto my chest, breathing heavily, his exhales hot on my shoulder. I stroked his hair as his body calmed and within seconds, he’d grown soft again. He pulled away from me and sat up, then moved to sit on the edge of the bed.
“Thank you, Brinley.”
“Of course.”
I said that every time. Every single time.
One of the responsibilities of being a celestial wife of Lehi Cluff was for me to open myself to him physically. It was my obligation, my duty, my role. And I had accepted it.
But I knew something was wrong with me, something that kept me from enjoying our time together as much as he clearly enjoyed it. Rebecca said that Burt always gave her pleasure in her private areas. She called it a “release.” I’d never found a release, not once. When Lehi was inside me, I didn’t feel the pleasure that Rebecca had told me about. I didn’t feel a buildup of sensations or an eruption of pleasure. Every time he pushed himself inside me, I wondered what to do to make that happen. But I had no idea, which made it all the more clear that I was the problem.
“Maybe that did it.” Lehi rubbed the back of his neck. He was, of course, referring to the fact that we’d been married three years and I hadn’t yet become pregnant, despite our regular intercourse. There was a reason for that, but it was a reason that he could never know about.
“Maybe,” I said with a forced smile, and pulled the sheets up to cover my bare breasts.
“Perhaps Leandra can switch the calendar. I know it’s best for us to be together when you’re ovulating.”
“I know, and I am . . . right now, in fact,” I lied.
“You are?” His face lit up slightly and I nodded, lying again.
The only acceptable reason for sex between two people in our church was for procreation. And after three years, I still hadn’t given him what was expected of me. Obviously the problem did not lie with Lehi. He had twenty-five children with the six wives who came before me. It was me. I was the problem.
But I simply wasn’t ready. Something was holding me back.
“That would truly be a blessing,” Lehi said over his shoulder as he pulled his boxer shorts back on.
“Yes,” I said.
“Please keep me posted. You should know in a few weeks, right?”
Considering how many children Lehi had already fathered, he knew very little about a woman’s cycle. Perhaps it was because he switched bedrooms every night. Or maybe it was because there were many months that two or even three of his wives were all pregnant at the same time, one further along than the next. It must have been hard to keep up, especially considering that sex between a pregnant woman and her husband was forbidden. They’d succeeded in creating a life. Sex was no longer deemed necessary or appropriate once a woman had conceived. Once the baby is born, though, it was business as usual.
“Yes. I will tell you.”
Lehi inched closer to me and placed his hand on my cheek. “I’m sure you must be frustrated. But we’ll get there. Perhaps we should pray together.”
My stomach churned. I hated false prayer. God knew when I was lying. Not only was I sinning by preventing pregnancy with my husband, but I kneeled on the floor next to him, week after week, pretending to pray to God to give us a baby when it was the last thing I truly wanted.
Of course, I’d be less lonely if I had a baby. I could imagine myself with the tiniest of little girls. I’d sew pink dresses for her and knit little blush booties. I’d snuggle her and love her and protect her with everything I am. But not yet.
Together we knelt, facing the bed, our elbows resting on the mattress. I closed my eyes as Lehi spoke for the both of us.
“Dear Heavenly Father, we thank you for this consummation in the hopes that you will allow Brinley to become pregnant. Lord, we pray that you’ll give her the gift of motherhood, to secure her place in your kingdom. In Jesus’s name, we pray.”
“Amen,” we said together.
Lehi took my hand in his and planted an obligatory kiss on my skin. “It’s time for bed. I have an early day tomorrow.”
I nodded before climbing to my feet.
“You should wash that stuff off your face.” His words were matter of fact, as if he was in denial that the “stuff” on my face was completely for him, for his desires and his needs.
Without complaint, I excused myself to the bathroom to scrub my face, and pushed down the irritation that bubbled beneath my skin. When I finished preparing myself for sleep, I returned to our bed. Lehi was facing the wall, his rib cage rising and falling as he breathed heavily.
I stared up at the ceiling, wondering how long I could keep my secret. How long it would be before I was found out—by Lehi or Leandra or the midwife who assisted in birthing all the Cluff children.
I knew that day would come. And I knew that God would punish me.
For preventing pregnancy and for keeping secrets.
For not loving my husband.
For not giving him all of myself, all of my heart, my body, and my soul.
Every day I merely went through the motions knowing that it was unacceptable, and that I would most certainly be punished. Perhaps not today or tomorrow, or even next year. But it would happen.
I knew that I should be determined to fix whatever it was that was broken inside me, to welcome a child into my womb, to accept my role as Lehi’s seventh wife.
I simply didn’t know how.