Free Sister Wife by Shelley Hrdlitschka Page B

latch of the suitcase snap shut, I turn back to her. She’s wearing pants that are skintight and sit low on her hips. The T-shirt appears to be two sizes too small, and there’s a slash of skin exposed between the pants and the shirt.
    â€œTaviana,” I say, mortified for her. “I think you’ve outgrown those things.”
    She looks down at herself and shrugs. “No,” she says, “they’re right.”
    The outfit totally transforms her. She never quite fit in here, but now it’s very clear that she’s not one of us, never was. She looks completely unfeminine and unlikely to ever practice purity. Why would Gentile girls want to look like that? She hangs her nightdress in the closet beside herother dresses. They’ll be passed down to one of our sisters or cousins.
    Celeste is sitting beside the suitcase on the bed, tears streaming down her face. I feel a lump developing in my own throat. “How soon are you leaving?”
    â€œSoon. Your father said to let him know when I’m ready. There are just a few people I want to go say good-bye to first.” I notice the look that passes between her and Celeste, even through Celeste’s tears.
    â€œLike who?” I ask.
    â€œLike...” She hesitates. “Like Jacob. He brought me here, and I lived with him and his family for the first six months.” She glances at Celeste again.
    A burning jealousy rips through me. When did Celeste and Taviana become so close? It’s like Taviana has replaced me as Celeste’s favorite sister.
    â€œI’m going to ask Father if I can drive into town with you,” Celeste tells Taviana.
    Taviana shakes her head. “No,” she says. “It will just make it harder. And besides, your mom needs you here.”
    Celeste doesn’t argue but drops her face into her hands and her shoulders heave.
    Settling onto the bed beside her, Taviana gently rubs her back. Then she says, “I’ll be back in a few minutes.” She gives Celeste’s shoulders a last squeeze and walks out of the room. I follow her down the stairs.
    Father usually goes directly to work after breakfast, but today he’s still sitting at the kitchen table, across from Mother, who is not in bed for a change. His three otherwives are present too, most of them with babies on their hips and toddlers hanging around their legs. Heads turn to stare when we walk into the kitchen and then just as quickly turn away. Taviana’s lack of modesty is embarrassing. The mood remains somber, and even the children seem to sense that something is up. Mother is looking particularly weary.
    â€œAre you ready, Taviana?” Daddy asks without looking at her.
    â€œI need about fifteen minutes,” she says. “To say goodbye.”
    â€œMost everyone’s here,” he says, looking around at his family. “Except the ones at school.”
    â€œThere are a few others...like Jacob.”
    Father shakes his head. “I need to get going, Taviana. I have work to do.”
    â€œBut...”
    â€œAnd besides,” he says, making a motion toward her with his hand, “you can’t walk around Unity looking like that.”
    Red blotches appear on her cheeks. I wonder who she really wanted to say good-bye to.
    â€œYou can write some notes from the truck if you wish,” Father says, “and I’ll have one of the girls deliver them later.”
    I’m expecting her to put up a fight, but she places her suitcase on the floor with a sigh. “Then I’ll just run up and say good-bye to Celeste,” she says, dashing off before Father can respond. A few minutes later she’s back. None of ushave even moved. She picks up her suitcase, and with her shoulders thrown back, she turns and walks out the door.
    We all gather around the truck. Father tosses Taviana’s suitcase in the back and opens the passenger door for her, but instead of climbing in, she turns and