“And what’s your profession, if I may ask?” Kurt said, somehow managing not to sound accusing in return.
“My purpose in life is my painting,” Sarah said.
I’d never met a painter before and wondered if this made sense of her dislike of company. Maybe we were interrupting her painting time. But then again, if we were, having so many children couldn’t be good for her art, either.
“That sounds fascinating,” Kurt said genuinely. “I’ve always loved the great painters.”
She sniffed at him. “Oh, really? Who is your favorite?”
I was sure she was waiting to hear that Kurt admired da Vinci or perhaps Rembrandt. Instead, Kurt said, “Kandinsky.”
It stopped her for a moment, and she blinked at Kurt. Recovering, she said, “Ah, Kandinsky. You’ve seen reproductions, I suppose.”
“I traveled to Europe in college and saw as many of his originals as I could find when I was in Berlin,” Kurt responded. I’m sure he was enjoying her surprise at this new facet to his character.
“Excuse me. I think I hear one of the children calling for help,” Sarah said abruptly, and went out the back door.
I could see nearly a dozen children playing in the backyard, but Sarah didn’t go to any of them. She headed past them, disappearing into the shed. Was she going to get some outdoor toy or gardening implement? I didn’t see her come out and after a minute, I gave up waiting for it. She wasn’t the one I’d come for, anyway, and even if she was a painter, I didn’t particularly want to spend more time with her.
I watched the children outside. Which one was Talitha? They all looked alike to me, though the girls were dressed in denim or khaki skirts rather than shorts or pants as the boys were, and their long hair was braided. I was impatient to talk to the little girl I’d come to help, but I reminded myself I could do that later, once we’d met Stephen Carter. I was already steeling myself for his defense of polygamy.
“Do you ever wonder what would happen if the Supreme Court ruled that polygamy was legal?” I whispered to Kurt. It seemed a real possibility, now that same-sex marriage had been ruled legal throughout the country.
He shook his head. “I really think it’s unlikely we’d suddenly hear about a revelation to return to polygamy. The church doesn’t want to be associated with Warren Jeffs or anyone like him.”
“Sister Wives doesn’t look that bad on television,” I said, trying to joke around.
Kurt wasn’t amused. “It doesn’t look normal, and the church needs to look normal for the missionary work to go forward,” he said practically.
“Hmm,” I said. I suddenly wished I had done more research on fringe Mormon polygamy. I’d assumed I knew enough about it, but now that I was here, I felt like a kid caught unprepared for a test.
Chapter 6
There were footsteps down the stairs and the woman who appeared looked like a much older version of Sarah. Her belly sagged in the loose cotton gown she wore, and her wrinkled face was marked with age spots.
Kurt and I both stood to greet her.
“Oh, you’re here already. I was just doing some laundry. I thought . . .” Her gaze drifted to the backyard and I figured she knew where her sister had gone. “Well, anyway, I’m Rebecca Carter.” She offered a tired smile that seemed very familiar to me. “I’m so glad to meet you. My husband, Stephen, will be here in just a few minutes. He had some business to attend to.” She shook our hands formally, her two hands over each one of ours in turn. “Brother and Sister Wallheim, it’s so good to meet you now that our children are planning to bind our families together.”
“Please call me Linda,” I said.
“Call me Kurt,” Kurt said after a long moment.
I’d never thought of his name as a description of him before. Maybe it hadn’t been before now. My curt Kurt. I’d always liked his honesty, but not everyone did.
“Sit, sit.” Rebecca moved to sit on one of the recliners and motioned us back to the couch. Behind her was the pink piano. There was also a cello in a stand-up case, a bass, and several violins and violas, as well as some wind instruments.
“Did anyone get you refreshments yet?” she asked. “I’m sure it was hot outside and you’ve come quite a ways. I have some lemonade freshly made.”
“No, thank you. We’re fine,” said Kurt, though I would have liked to have tasted her lemonade, just to see how it compared to mine. Did she put lemon zest in it like I did?
“Something to eat?”
“We’ve eaten,” Kurt answered for both of us again.