Sister Wife

Copper Creek

My grandfather's sunny yellow house looms over us as we pull in the driveway. Hope is still trembling and Selena, though silent, is staring at everyone and everything around us.

At least here no one is hiding and they all stare back at us just as openly as Selena stares at them. My grandfather's children are playing in the yard, running around in their strange, worn out, homemade clothing. They're all skinny but everyone seems happy. Like they should be.

"Wait in the car," Justin says but before he can get his seatbelt off my biological grandmother is headed out to greet us.

"Come on in, all of you," she insists. She gives Justin a big hug and I wonder if he'll yell at her too. He nods at us but none of us move until my grandmother comes over and slides the door open. "Let me love on this little baby," she says, unfastening Isaiah from his carseat.

That seems to wake Hope up and she gets out of the car to stay with her son. I unhook my seatbelt and go with them. Selena sighs but follows me.

"Who even knows how long this will take, Father has just been dying to talk with Brother Justin," Grandma says. Every time I hear her call her husband that it's weird to me.

"Oh boy," Selena mutters.

"We just made lunch, are you hungry?" Grandma asks. "Or I could start with a tour. You, Sister, you're the outsider, aren't ya?" she points a bony finger at Selena.

"Uh, yeah," Selena's eyes widen.

"Well let me just show you around then," Grandma offers. She leads us into the house and I see the familiar home I've known my whole life. I could probably give this tour just as well as she can.

Because this house belongs to our Prophet, the man we believe is the Lord's mouthpiece on earth and our one true leader, it has to be completely spotless at all times. They are supposed to set an example for everyone in the community and behave like a perfect model for how everyone else is supposed to live.

When I was younger I used to think that Jesus actually came over to speak to my grandfather and that was why they kept the house so clean. My mother laughed for days about that one. Looking at the house now I realize why that must have sounded so silly.

Everything here must have been very beautiful at one time, but it's all very old now and definitely worn. You don't see dirt or broken things anywhere and there's plenty of light in the house. There are also hundreds of family pictures on the walls, covering every space possible.

"Now, this gets very complicated so try to keep up," my grandmother is saying when I start to listen to her talking again. "I'm 32nd of 56 children, and when I married Grant I became my own step-grandma, because my father married Grant's daughter, Baylene."

She goes on as we go into the kitchen. The young girls are busy piling plates with whatever it is they've made for lunch – some kind of sandwiches – and carrying them out back to the picnic tables where everyone else is gathering to eat.