The Bishop’s Wife (Linda Wallheim Mystery, #1)(51)

Good, I thought. Be angry. Shout at God or at me or at anyone, if that helps you come back to life.

She began to talk in a nostalgic tone and I let her, though I was keeping an eye on the clock: 10:15. The funeral was at 2:00 P.M. We still had a little time.

Anna was saying, “We had a summer vacation planned this year, do you know that? All the years we’ve been married, and we had never taken a vacation in the summer. He was too attached to that garden. We only went on winter vacations, and those were only for a few days because of work and school schedules. We couldn’t afford to go very far away, so the weather was always an issue, as well.” She looked up at me, and I nodded encouragement. Better she talk about this than about the death.

“We were going to go to Mexico. A long drive down, so we could enjoy time together talking and listening to books on tape and music. I have lists of things that I wanted to get to. And then the hotel reservations and all the sites we were going to see. I wanted to try real Mexican food and see the ocean. I’ve never seen the ocean, do you know that?”

“No,” I said. Apparently, there was a lot about her life I didn’t know.

Her eyes flickered as if she were about to start weeping. But I sensed a grand effort and she went back to the brittle happiness pasted on top of her pain. “Tomas’s wife is expecting her first child, did you know that?”

“Really?” He had to be in his late thirties. That was late to start a family, at least in Utah. But he didn’t live in Utah, and sometimes it seemed like Mormons outside of Utah were part of an entirely different church.

“Yes. In late spring. Tobias was so excited when he heard it was a boy. He didn’t want them to name the child after him, but Tomas told me this morning that it’s what he and his wife want. What do I say to that? Now that Tobias is gone, do I tell them it’s all right? Even though I know it was what he wouldn’t have wanted?”

Again, I had the sense she was on the edge of losing control. Should I let her weep on my shoulder or should I encourage her to be strong? This was not the Anna Torstensen I had met at first. “They might have called the boy Tobias even if Tobias were still alive,” I said calmly. “He wouldn’t have had control over what name they chose.” When my sons started having children, I would have to deal with the same thing. Being a grandmother would be wonderful, but letting go might take work. And the more time I spent thinking about Kelly Helm, the more I thought it was going to be a lot of work.

“Oh, you’d be surprised,” said Anna, a faint smile peeking out for the first time since she’d opened the door to me. “Tobias had control over many things. He told you how things were, and gave his reasons for why no one could disagree with him. And no one did. He never raised his voice, just spoke rationally and clearly until the rest of us gave way.”

He had always been a quiet man, but I suppose I hadn’t seen what was underneath that quiet until now. “I feel lost without him,” said Anna. She met my eyes, and I saw the piercing clarity that had drawn me to her from the first. “But there is a part of me that is relieved. I hate that it’s true, but I feel like a burden has lifted.”

“There’s no reason to feel guilty about that,” I said, though she didn’t look guilty. “I think that is very common when someone dies after a long illness.”

“Yes, but shouldn’t I feel more sad about it? Shouldn’t I be crying and having fits because he is gone?” If she had, it would have surprised me, considering the kind of self-contained woman I had always seen her as. But was there something else she was saying to me? I thought of Carrie Helm and wondered if she would have been happy if Jared had died.

“Anna, did Tobias ever hurt you?” I blurted out.

Anna stood up suddenly, her hands fluttering. She was framed in the morning sun coming in the kitchen window behind her, and it made her look like she had a halo all around her. “No. Whatever makes you say that? How could you think that?”

“I didn’t mean to offend you,” I said. She wasn’t like Carrie Helm, I told myself. And Tobias had nothing in common with Jared Helm.

“When I said I felt relief he was gone, it wasn’t because of that. He would never have hit me. He wasn’t like that.” Anna sat back down, and I could hear her harsh breathing. I had upset her and I shouldn’t have done that, not today of all days.

“I know you loved him deeply,” I said neutrally.

“I loved him so much,” she echoed. “I wondered sometimes if he could ever really love me as much as I loved him. And at the end, when he talked about his first wife so often, I thought that was why. I was always second-best in his eyes. The one he lived with because she was dead.” She sounded ashamed.

We are never good enough for those we love, are we? Not in our own eyes. “Did he ever say that to you, Anna?”

“No! Of course he wouldn’t. He wasn’t cruel.” Her eyes darted toward mine, and then shifted away again.

“Tell me what you know about his first wife,” I said, before I realized that I was asking that more for my own sake than for hers. “Did he talk about her often?” But surely this wouldn’t hurt her. It might even help.

At last, her breathing seemed to slow down to normal. “She was very beautiful. Fragile, I think.” She gestured to the half-size china cupboard with its gold-filigreed teacups and plates in pastel colors. “I am much taller than she was.” She looked down at her feet. I realized they were rather large, a size ten or eleven, and her hands matched. Why had I not noticed that before? “Liam says she was like an old-fashioned movie star, so careful about her makeup, her hair, her clothes. I think she spent hours in the morning getting ready for the day, from the stories he tells about sitting and watching her at the bathroom mirror.” Anna wore no more makeup than I did, which was a rarity in Utah these days. Women of every age here wore makeup, even to the gym.