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Show 621 "We'll go see Sister now," he said, calling the new wife by her former surname. I wondered if he thought of her that way, as a sister or another man's wife. Or did he feel toward her child the way he still felt toward me - that as his daughtor, I belonged to him, even though I was married to another man. There was something that touched me in the thought that he wanted to father everyone, wanted to save the world. "She's very well-eduaated," he said pointedly, as if to Gospel tout the fact that schooling and the Principle were not at odds, as Saul had once implied. What paradox, I thought, that schooling only has value when it suits his purposes, after all the years of resenting the educational critical goals of my mother's children. And then, to break myAthought-pattern, I said, "She's traveled a great deal?" He nodded. "She has quite a past." "I'm a lady with a past, Daddy." My mouth twisted in an attempt to soften the words that tumbled out like things * an overcrowded closet. "I'm your very own Mary Magdalene." His eyes squinted. I held my breath. "She who sins most loves most," he quoted, looking away. My eyes filled and I fumbled in my sweater pocket for a tissue. Magdalene had bathed the Savior's feet with her tears. Would I also be allowed to serve, to wash away the dust of history? And who would I be serving, whose feet would I wash? Would my Savior and my father be in accord or at odds? My mother came up behind us and held the baby out to me. "She's getting hungry, darling. Perhaps you had better nurse her." I didn't know how to explain that my nerves had short-circuited even this wholesome inheritance. "I can't, Mama. Let's hurry so you °an take^i home." |
