The Bishop’s Wife (Linda Wallheim Mystery, #1)(55)

Liam took a long, shuddering breath.

I realized that Anna’s hand was trembling in mine, and my reservations about Liam’s speech melted away.

“Another of my father’s worst qualities was his way of forgetting. He had a terrible memory. Sometimes he forgot important things. Like the time he forgot to come in and spank me the way he said he would. He let me sit and wait for him for two hours, until I fell asleep. And in the morning, when I asked him if he was ever going to do it, he said he had forgotten.

“He forgot his anniversary with Anna one year, and he forgot her birthday. But for Christmas that year, he bought her a new car because he was worried her old car might stall on the freeway and put her in danger.” Liam was clearly struggling with his emotions. He kept wiping at his eyes, but never broke down completely. He had learned control from his father, I thought.

“He forgot once why he had started a lawsuit with an old friend and told the lawyer that he couldn’t pursue in court a case he had forgotten everything about, could he?

“He forgot that he’d told me that I wouldn’t get my driver’s license until I finished my Eagle Scout project, and let me get it anyway; and he forgot that I was the one who had dented his door the first time I took his car out, and he always told everyone he had done it himself.”

Anna was openly weeping at my side. I could see that Kurt was using a tissue on his eyes and nose, too.

“And the last flaw of my father was that he kept secrets. Terrible secrets. Every night when he tucked me into bed, he whispered into my ear that I was his favorite. He told me that I couldn’t tell Tomas because it wasn’t fair, that he wasn’t supposed to pick favorites.” He looked over at his brother and shared a tremulous smile.

“It wasn’t until I was nearly a teenager that I realized that he told Tomas the same thing every night, that Tomas was his favorite. So I suppose that’s another of my father’s worst parts that I wasn’t counting. He was a liar. He told me once that he would never leave me, and now he’s a liar about that, too.” He began to sob and Kurt had to help him back to his seat.

The room was utterly silent, except for sniffling sounds and the rustling of tissues.

Then it was Kurt’s turn to speak. He read from the Book of Mormon about where the righteous go after death, which was to either immediate resurrection or a place of rest where they could be with God. Then he, too, spoke of Tobias’s garden: “I have no doubt that Tobias will find some way to garden in heaven. Only there the plants he grows will be souls, because Tobias was always good at seeing the soul behind any action. He knew that gardens weren’t about dirt any more than people were about sin. You have to touch the dirt to work in it, but you clean yourself afterward and you watch what grows from your work.” He mimed washing his hands and held them up to the audience. I felt enormously proud of Kurt at that moment. My husband and my bishop, both.

Kurt finished with some words about how glad he was that he’d had a chance to know Tobias and that he was honored to be his bishop. Then he closed the service and invited people to stay for the luncheon.

Anna and Tomas and Liam would drive to the cemetery and Kurt would do a simple grave dedication there, then they would all come back and try to enjoy the company of the ward members who loved them while sharing a late luncheon prepared by the Relief Society.

I helped Anna to the car waiting for her, and then went into the kitchen to find Cheri Tate hard at work. She was supervising the warming of funeral potatoes and counting out cups with punch in them to be taken on a dolly to the cultural hall and distributed around the tables that had already been put up.

“What can I do to help?” I asked her.

She assigned me to organize the dessert table and make sure everything had been cut up properly so people could serve themselves.

I went out to the cultural hall and found Gwen Ferris was there.

“I didn’t know you knew Tobias,” I said.

“I didn’t,” said Gwen. “But I know Anna. She and I worked on the homemaking committee together last year She is such a wonderful person, I had to come and show my support for her here.”

“That’s kind of you,” I said, thinking that Gwen had her own problems to deal with, whatever they were. But they say service helps you forget yourself.

Forgetting, I thought. Secrets and anger. What did Liam’s talk about Tobias really mean? At the time, I had been mostly concerned about Anna’s feelings and the funeral itself, but as I went over his points about his father, it worried me more than it comforted me.

“I wish I had known Tobias better He sounds like a wonderful father,” said Gwen, helping me set out serving utensils and then small plates at each dessert.

“Mmm,” I said.

“Do you think that Brad would ever be like that?” asked Gwen.

I had to shake myself to process the question. “Brad seems like a wonderful man,” I said, remembering my conversation with him in Kurt’s office. I should be focusing on Gwen here, not my own wandering thoughts about Tobias. Tobias was gone, but Gwen was here. “How are things between you?”

“Fine. Good,” said Gwen. “I mean, we have our problems, but Brad is such a good man. I’m so lucky to have found him.” She looked away, focusing on the dessert plates.

“He loves you very much,” I said.