Stolen Innocence - Lisa Pulitzer [56]
As the mothers filed in, I could tell they were impressed, but never did I expect any overt recognition. Surprisingly, Mother Katherine told me how pleased she was and that I had done an “amazing job.” She was one of the few other mothers who was nice to me, and I’d grown fond of her during my time at Uncle Fred’s house, enjoying her kindness and authenticity, qualities I’d always admired in my sister Michelle.
As we began eating, I overheard Mother Katherine telling Uncle Fred that I had prepared and served the beautiful meal on my own. While her intention was to call Uncle Fred’s attention to my accomplishment, I quickly sensed the undercurrent of annoyance among the other girls at the table. Their displeasure grew when Mother Katherine expressed her wish that the other girls in the house would take some responsibility like I did.
“You are going to make a man very happy someday,” Uncle Fred declared, his tone full of pride. “You will make a good wife for someone.”
It felt nice to have Fred’s approval instead of a reprimand. Even though I was only fourteen, I knew that this was the best compliment a girl could get. Becoming a wife was the ultimate goal and dream of all FLDS girls. Not certain how to respond, I giggled and continued eating my lunch. As usual, Uncle Fred’s words would invite more scorn toward me from my stepsisters, but I didn’t care. I was pleased with what I had done, and even when my annoying cousin Allen Steed showed up to grab a bite, it didn’t break my mood.
Over the past six months I’d begun to see a lot of Allen. He was a frequent volunteer at Fred’s house, taking care of the zoo, helping with odd jobs, and lending a hand where it was needed. His family lived just a few streets away, but he had begun sticking around to join the large Jessop crew for meals. It seemed that he was mainly interested in watching the many daughters. It gave me the creeps. Although I still loathed my cousin, the feeling was different now. When we had lived together at the Steed ranch, Allen had been lanky and awkward but a bully. Now he had grown stockier and his oddness made me uncomfortable.
At nineteen, he could no longer treat my siblings and me the way he had in the past. Nonetheless, there was something that just didn’t seem right about him. The other girls and I talked behind his back about how strange he was. Whenever he would come around, we would giggle and talk about how he stared at the pretty girls who flitted about the house taking care of babies or helping their mothers prepare dinner. When he spoke to me, he tried to make it seem as though he had lost his meanness, but I knew the real Allen. The truth about him might have been masked behind a bigger frame, but he was very much the same person who left me fallen in the snow, laughing loudly as he drove off to go ice-skating. In the evenings, I was always happy when some of the mothers would tell him that it was time for him to be on his way. He never seemed to pick up on the subtle and not-so-subtle cues that he’d overstayed his welcome. But as irritating as he was, Uncle Fred seemed to like him and continued to find things for him to do.
After that Friday lunch, Uncle Fred began to pay more attention to me. During the time I’d been living in his home I’d had little interaction with him aside from regular corrections, but suddenly he seemed to want to talk to me. It was just a few days after my solo debut in the kitchen that I crossed paths with him in the hallway and he stopped for a moment to chat.
“How old are you?” he asked in his usual friendly tone.
“Well,