“I see. Well, as long as you’re not expecting a trained investigator or anything,” I said.
“I understand and I want you to know how much I appreciate your willingness to help,” Naomi said, smiling tremulously. “Talitha is so bright, so gentle and innocent. Sometimes I think she’s who I would have been if I hadn’t had all that pressure on me as the oldest. I want the best things in the world for her.”
“You sound like a wonderful older sister,” I said.
“You haven’t met Talitha yet,” said Naomi, her smile widening. “She’s the wonderful one.”
After that, we focused on eating, and even ordered a chocolate dessert course. I have to admit, it was the most fun I’ve had in a long time, reaching over people, nearly burning myself, and trying all the different combinations of meat. Even Kurt seemed to loosen up, at least for a few minutes. And yes, we did eat all of it.
Afterwards, Kurt and Kenneth argued over the bill, each trying to pay. We women didn’t bother with more small talk. Naomi said she’d call her father and tell him we were waiting for an official invitation.
Kurt and I drove home in silence, except for one remark from Kurt: “I just wish you weren’t getting encouragement to meddle in other people’s business, again.”
“They’re practically family, now that Kenneth is marrying Naomi.” And wasn’t that my job, to take care of family, as a woman and a mother? “Besides, I feel that God is calling me to do this,” I added. It was the one thing Kurt wouldn’t contradict me on, if I said that I felt inspired to do something by God. And I did feel a warmth in my chest at the thought of this little girl, which I was sure was the Spirit telling me to look after her.
“All right, but please be careful,” he said. And then after a moment, “You know I love you eternally, Linda.”
I sighed. “I love you, too.” It had been too long since we’d both said that.
Chapter 4
I wrote a letter to Samuel the next day, opening as usual with some inspirational copied-and-pasted pieces from the “Mormons Building Bridges” Facebook group, which was a safe place for LGBTQ Mormons and their allies to talk online. I also found a new essay up on the Huffington Post by Mitch Mayne, who was a personal hero of Samuel’s. Mitch was an openly gay man who had served in his ward’s bishopric in California. I’d never met him, but all his writings I’d read seemed not just progressive, but spiritually inspired.
After that, I gave a quick report about baby Carla and Joseph and Willow, about Adam and Marie, and about Zachary. I was pretty sure my other sons wrote to Samuel, but not as regularly as I did, so it was my job to fill in the gaps and make sure that Samuel’s relationship with his brothers didn’t fall apart while he was on his mission.
I took a break to shower and get dressed for the day, then came back to attempt a fair and honest account of our dinner with Naomi and Kenneth, omitting the part about her worrying that her sister was being abused. I also refrained from talking about how strained things still were between his parents because of the new policy. When he was at home, Samuel had been intuitive enough to sense things like that anyway, but I didn’t want him to feel like I was asking him to take on responsibility for any of this.
I always sent real paper letters to our missionary sons, though many parents, including Kurt, used email. Samuel wrote back to both of us on “P-day,” his preparation day, which was every Tuesday. He went to the public library in Boston and used the computer there, since he wasn’t allowed to have access to one in his own apartment, according to his mission president’s rules. Some missions had more computer access than Samuel’s, but for him it was P-days only. Missionaries were also restricted from calling home except on Christmas and Mother’s Day, or if there was a death in the family and they got special permission.