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Show Ida's Sabbath 8g of the latest styles at ZCMI in Salt Lake City and urged Ida to be more daring. (There was talk that once, before her husband had been called as bishop, Milly Jensen had been seen in a sleeveless dress at an election party for a county candidate. "She must have pinned up the sleeves of her temple garments so she could wear that dress," the talk went around. "Can you believe that anybody would do that?") No, Ida wasn't dramatic or stylish (though Louis had suggested on occasion that she take some lessons from Milly). Music and God mattered most to Ida. "She's dependable. A good woman," people said of her, with the possible exception of Brother Bassett. "You're a real sleeper, woman," he told Ida once. "Pretty too. No t e l l i ng what will happen to you." Ida had only blushed, not knowing what he meant, and found herself thereafter avoiding him. He was a l i t t l e on the suspicious side anyway as he didn't say much in Sunday School class, and when he did, i t was usually off base, not quite in line with the usual comments. The song ended. Morris gave the cut-off signal. Ida, however, prolonged the swell of the final chord. She didn't even notice Morris or his glare. As B i l l Parsons stood to pray, she folded her arms and bowed her head. "Our Father, we thank thee for our many blessings." Ida's feet began slipping off the organ bench railing onto the long wooden pedals below. Without a comfortable spot to rest her feet in between songs, her only option was to cross her ankles and rest the tips of her shoes on the slender r a i l . Her feet weighed heavy and slipped toward the pedals below. The extra gravity, maybe the devil, pulled her navy pumps |
