The Bishop’s Wife (Linda Wallheim Mystery, #1) by Mette Ivie Harrison
CHAPTER 1
Mormon bishop’s wife isn’t an official calling. “Bishop’s wife” isn’t a position listed on ward documents; there’s no ceremonial laying-on of hands or pronounced blessings from on high. But if the bishop is the father of the ward, the bishop’s wife is the mother, and that meant there were five hundred people who were under my care I was used to the phone calls in the middle of the night, to the doorbell ringing far too late and far too early. I was used to being looked past, because I was never the person that they were there to see.
This morning at the six thirty doorbell, I shook Kurt. “They’ll be wanting the bishop,” I said. I was already out of bed and putting on my robe.
“I’ll be there as soon as I can, Linda,” he said sleepily. He hadn’t been to bed before midnight last night, I was sure. I hurried downstairs, sure that something terrible had happened. It was late January in Draper, Utah, and as picturesque as the snow on the mountains was, it did not mix well with our modern lifestyle. My fear as I stood hesitating at the door was that someone was here to tell us that a teenager from the ward had skidded off the road and was on his way to the hospital. The doorbell rang again, and then the door was knocked on, impatiently.
When I finally opened the door, I saw Jared Helm, one of the newer members of the ward, carrying his five-year-old daughter, Kelly. She had curly blonde hair that always seemed messy, no matter how often it was combed. The remains of breakfast (oatmeal) were all over her chin. She was still in her pajamas, but she’d been bundled into an inside-out snowsuit. How her father had figured out how to get the zipper up without putting it on the right way around, I didn’t know.
“Can I see Bishop Wallheim?” asked Jared.
Not an accident, then, I thought with relief. “Come in from the cold. He’s awake, and he’ll be down in a minute,” I assured Jared. So would Samuel, the youngest of my five sons, who was a senior in high school; I could hear his alarm going off upstairs and knew he’d be rushing out the door soon.
I led Jared and Kelly to the front room, where my neglected piano waited for me to practice. Mostly, the room was used now for people waiting to go into Kurt’s office.
Jared Helm looked terribly strained, though he was well-kempt. His hair was darker than his daughter’s, but it was clear where she got the messy mop. His was wet now, the curls ruthlessly combed around a side part. He was dressed in a button-down striped shirt, cable sweater, and neatly pressed khakis. I wondered if his wife did that pressing or if he did it himself.
I wished I knew the Helms better, but I had only a general impression that he and his wife were unhappy, although devoted parents to Kelly, and that they were struggling financially, as a lot of people in the ward were currently. Maybe he was here because he was in money trouble? Kurt could send him to the bishop’s storehouse for some basic food supplies, but many people were unwilling to take that kind of help. The stigma wasn’t insignificant. More often, people wanted Kurt to write them a check.
I got out a toy for Kelly to play with, but she held it limply in her hands, uninterested. They were all trucks and building toys, things my sons had enjoyed. I’d never had a chance to build a collection of toys for girls, though I sometimes imagined what I would have bought for a daughter. Dolls? Faux cooking supplies and a tiny stove?
I found a picture book and read it quietly to her, but after several pages I put it down. Kelly’s eyes were wandering all over the room. I finally sat her on my lap and let her plunk on the piano keys, which she seemed to enjoy. None of my boys had been interested at this age, except for Samuel.
But after a few minutes, Kelly’s piano playing earned the attention of her father, who had been staring silently at his lap. “Stop that noise,” he snapped. “You know how to behave better than that.” He didn’t seem to see me at all.
The little girl immediately went still and folded her hands together. The moment Jared looked away, Kelly slipped her thumb into her mouth, her eyes intent on her father, and I had the sense that she would be in trouble if he caught her doing that, too.
I moved slightly to the side, protecting Kelly from her father’s critical gaze with my body, and I thought, as I so often did, about the daughter I had lost. Too often, I knew I judged other parents for not treating a daughter as I imagined I would have treated mine, had she lived.
I could hear Kurt’s feet thumping on the floor of the bathroom. He was out of the shower. “The bishop will be down in just a minute, I’m sure,” I said again to Jared. It wouldn’t take Kurt long to dress. He had become quite efficient at putting on his daily suit. He didn’t used to wear one to work every day, but since he became bishop last year, it had seemed that there was no time when he could wear casual clothes.
Samuel rushed past Jared Helm and out the front door, hair still wet, a piece of bread between his teeth. “Love you, Mom,” he mumbled as he headed out to the bus stop.
“Love you,” I said, still seated with Kelly on my lap. I gave up on the hope of giving my son a hug and kiss goodbye this morning. He wasn’t exactly unwelcoming if I was waiting by the door and it was easy for him to stoop over me, but he wouldn’t kiss or hug me back.
After Samuel had gone, I noticed that Jared was wiping tears from his eyes. He was in distress, that much was obvious. Where was his wife? If this was a financial problem, as I had first thought, why weren’t they here together? I had seen Carrie Helm last Sunday at church and she had been sitting a clear distance from her husband, with Kelly between them. It had been obvious that they were in the midst of an argument, but I hadn’t thought much of it at the time. Married couples fight.