Stolen Innocence - Lisa Pulitzer [65]
As I sat in the waiting room, I rehearsed what I would say to Uncle Rulon. In the past, when I had been a guest of Kassandra’s or Rachel’s, I had been invited to dine with Uncle Rulon and his family. It was a great honor after the meal when I was welcomed to approach the prophet and shake his hand, but this meeting would be different. This time, it was about me.
The waiting area was busy, with people coming and going. After some time, Uncle Warren finally came out and greeted me. Wearing a wide grin and his predictbale dark suit and tie, he addressed me with a warm, welcoming voice.
“Elissa, how are you?” He motioned for me to follow him into the office.
Exhausted, I quickly sat down in the dark upholstered chair closest to the door. I’d been up most of the night praying, and I felt light-headed from my ongoing fast. Warren sat down at his father’s desk, which faced the wall, and swung his chair around to face me. Now there was no desk separating us as there had been at Alta Academy.
“Tell me what’s going on,” he began in a low, inquiring voice. “What is the issue?”
I hesitated, wondering when Uncle Rulon would be coming in to join us. When he didn’t immediately arrive, I felt obligated to go over my concerns a second time with Uncle Warren.
“Well, I know you’ve told me to get married. And I know you feel like this is a revelation. I don’t think that this is right for me because I feel like I need to have some time to grow up. I’m just not prepared for this kind of responsibility. And I’m not willing to marry my cousin.”
Uncle Warren looked surprised. “Your cousin?”
“Yes,” I said. “You asked that I be married to Allen Steed, who is my first cousin.”
“Well,” he began, wearing a look of confusion that worried me, “have you been praying about it?”
“Yes, I am. And everything is telling me not to do this. Every part of my soul and heart is telling me that this isn’t right for me.”
“Have you told your father?”
“Yes, I’ve met with Uncle Fred several times. And I’ve told him that this is something that I’m not willing to do at this point, that I would prefer to not get married. And he has instructed me to come to you. I need to let you know of my concerns.”
Uncle Warren sat contemplatively for a brief moment. “Well,” he announced, rising to his feet, “the prophet has directed you to do this.”
“I know, but I need to hear it from him,” I replied, my stoic façade suddenly crumbling as I broke into tears. “I need to know that he is aware of the situation and at least ask him if he can give me two years. I just want two years before I get married.”
“Elissa,” he replied, offering me a tissue from the box on his desk, “this is a revelation from God. This is an honor to have the prophet place you in a good priesthood marriage. Are you declining to do this?”
“No,” I said, erasing tears from my cheeks. “I just want you to know where I stand, where I am, and why I feel the way I do.”
As I sat nervously shredding my tissue, I noticed a rainbow of flowers standing at cheery attention in the garden just outside of the expansive bay window. My tissue was in tatters, with small pieces falling onto the floor, as I made my position clear. “If I am going to go through with this marriage, then I need to hear it from the prophet’s mouth,” I petitioned.
Perhaps realizing that I was not going to back down until I saw Uncle Rulon, Warren went to speak with his father on my behalf. I watched as he exited through a second door in the office that opened up to a private hallway in Uncle Rulon’s personal living quarters.
A few minutes later, Warren reappeared in the doorway.
“The prophet has a few minutes to see you now,” he told me. Rising to follow him down the long corridor, I grew terrified of what Uncle Rulon was going to tell me. I was going to meet the most important man in the church, the living embodiment of God on earth, and I was going to tell him that I thought he was wrong about his vision for my future.
Pushing through a