The Bishop’s Wife (Linda Wallheim Mystery, #1)(3)

“Then how could she leave her daughter? I never would have thought it of Carrie Helm, of all people. She loved that little girl so much.”

Yes, she had. She had always walked Kelly to Primary and made sure she had a big hug. “She might not have felt she had any choice.” It was the only answer I could think of. Kurt, as bishop, was the one who should know more of the inner workings of their relationship than I did. But then again, Carrie and Jared had never come to see him together, so now all he would have was Jared’s side of the story. Jared had a calling as an instructor in the elders quorum and fulfilled it faithfully every month. As far as Kurt was concerned, he was the one who was reliable and trustworthy.

“I asked him if there was any hope they might still reconcile. I wish they had come to see me earlier. I might have been able to help.” He looked toward the kitchen, the smell of toast and jam drawing him, and we moved in that direction. I put new toast in the toaster and he got out a plate.

Along with his big appetite, Kurt had enormous faith in the power of prayer. He thought any marriage could be saved with enough work and help from God. I am sad to say I am not as believing. Some marriages aren’t meant to last, and it was quite possible that Jared and Carrie Helm’s was one of these. They did not seem like a particularly good match. There were marriages that worked despite disparities in character, but not many.

“He said she was very final about it. She said she was never coming back. He thinks there may be another man involved.”

“I see,” I said. If Carrie Helm had realized how mismatched she and Jared were, and she’d found someone who was less of a mismatch—well, it almost explained things. It was selfish, but people are sometimes selfish. Sometimes even mothers. Perhaps mothers especially, since they spent so much time being unselfish.

“He’s going to have to deal with divorce papers and child-care issues, along with custody agreements,” Kurt was saying as he opened his favorite jam jars and began to stir the contents. Why he did that, I never knew. “But he wasn’t up for talking about any of that. He just wanted to hear me say that he wasn’t to blame for what had happened, and that God still had good things for his future.”

Well, I was glad that Kurt hadn’t insisted on reconciliation, as most bishops would have felt obliged to do to keep the family together. “Poor Kelly,” I said.

“The whole ward will have to band together to help Jared and Kelly. She’ll need a lot of substitute mothers.” Kurt was looking at me then. I would do what I could, of course, but I wasn’t sure I knew what Kelly needed.

“I’d like to talk to Carrie. Do you think Jared might have a number for her?” I asked.

Kurt shook his head. “He said she didn’t leave any way of contacting her. We’ll have to wait and see what happens in the next few days.” He stopped short of saying he hoped that she came back, and that all of this could still be fixed.

“Carrie is a good woman,” I said, hoping it was true. I had thought I knew her, but obviously I had not known her well enough.

“Well, I suppose God can find good in any of us,” said Kurt. That was as close as he came to saying he considered this situation to be Carrie’s fault.

Didn’t he remember those years when I had been at home with all five boys, Adam, Joseph, Kenneth, Zachary, and baby Samuel? I had never said it aloud, but there were times when I had had fantasies of walking away, going out and getting a job, finding a life of my own again, where I wasn’t on call twenty-four hours a day and responsible for tiny lives. It was too much for any one person. Maybe more so for someone who had reconciled herself to not being married and never having children. And then Kurt had come along and changed all my plans, made me believe again I could have the whole Mormon dream. Husband. Children. Temple sealing. And all that went with it. We lived in a city that had once been known for the state prison at the point of the mountain and was now known for the Mormon temple that had just been built. But it seemed that the Mormon plan of happiness with a perfect family full of forgiveness hadn’t worked out as well for Carrie Helm.





CHAPTER 2




Cheri Tate’s second daughter was to be married the next day at the church. Kurt would be there to officiate, but Cheri needed support. She was Relief Society president, and very good at that job. Give her a list and she checked off every item on it. She was in charge of making sure the bishop knew about the practical needs of all the women of the ward. No one who had a baby or was in the hospital ever went without a week’s worth of hot homemade meals delivered by the Relief Society sisters, all coordinated by Cheri Tate.

Her children were younger than mine, and I had married later in life, so I suspected I was nearly fifteen years older than she was. That made me feel a little maternal toward her. I could see her flaws, but I could also see her attempts to grow. She wasn’t a listener and she had no sympathy for whining, but at least she was not a hypocrite. She wasn’t whining about her daughter’s wedding. She was just doing what had to be done.

The wedding colors were gold and silver, which I thought was a little over the top, but I had seen worse. I went early in the morning to help with the decorations. The wedding and reception would both be held in what was called the “cultural hall,” but it looked more like a gym than anything else. It had hardwood floors and was polished every year so that now the polish was as thick as the wood itself. It was also painted with basketball lines underneath all the polish, and there were hoops overhead.