50 Years in Polygamy: Big Secrets and Little White Lies Page 40
It didn’t take me long to find out, of course, this included me, my kids, my friends, their friends and their spouses, Diane’s whole family, Jared’s first wife who’d left him and remarried quite some time ago, her children, their children, their friends—everyone! Norma said she knew everything there was to know about all of us. Before long, Mark also began to claim the same expertise about people and of course he included me also.
To Mark and to me, Norma proclaimed her love, devotion, and dedication. “She supports us and wants to help keep us together,” Mark repeated. “She knows we are ‘twin rays’—soul mates. She says we have been forever and always will be.”
With his strong, persuasive assurances, I swept my apprehensions and perceptions under the carpet and tromped all over them.
Near the end of September or first part of October, the threesome came down to my apartment. I hadn’t seen Mark for twenty-two days. He said he came down to spend “some quality time” with me.
No matter where we went or what we were doing, Norma was always pissed at Jared. She was angry with him for everything he did or didn’t do. That time it wasn’t just because of the turned-on sounds Jared made when he showered or enjoyed his food, or because he talked way too much. I felt sorry and embarrassed for him. Norma’s fits of anger toward Jared were carried out right in front of my visiting friends and me.
A friend of mine, who hadn’t known Norma for more than an hour, whispered, “Gee, Kristyn, it looks like she hates the guy! Bet a divorce is in her plans.”
On Saturday, the four of us decided to drive the loop through Cedar Breaks and travel through Zion National Park on our return. On our way through Cedar Breaks I wanted to show off the beautiful bristlecone pine trees I’d been telling Mark about ever since my friend Graham had introduced them to me earlier in the summer. Mark and Norma acted like an engaged young couple who couldn’t keep their eyes or bodies away from each other. It was obvious neither Jared nor I existed, other than as intrusive passengers. Mark snapped several pictures of Norma in a variety of poses under the bristlecone pines before they frolicked off on another trail, leaving Jared and me behind.
At our last pull-off, just before dusk, Jared and I stood by his truck in a quandary, watching Mark chase Norma as she jogged around a red-rock hillside, traipsed close to a dangerous-looking ledge, and ran down a pathway on the other side of a ravine before they disappeared into the canyon. While they were gone, we waited like puppies waiting to be drowned. We walked around a little, sat in the truck, and leaned on the truck, wondering. How I wished Jared had a girl “friend” with him and I had my friend Lyle to take off with.
I thought about Lyle and our nonstop laughter, the deep conversations about our families and our likes and dislikes. I wondered how his kids and grandkids were, and if and when he’d meet the right lady of his dreams, who loved horses and would live with him on his ranch someday. If only he lived closer, I daydreamed. If he were here today, I’d definitely go the other direction with him. I would even—
“—their proclaimed friendship?” Jared said.
“Sorry, Jared, what did you say?”
“Oh, I was just asking you how you feel about Norma and Mark’s proclaimed friendship?”
“It’s okay with me,” I lied. Then I said, “The truth is, it has to be okay even though it hurts like hell! I always wanted Mark to have close friends who would appreciate his value, intellect, wisdom, and goodness. I’m honestly grateful you two love him and treat him as good as you do. I just have to trust them, Jared, because a long time ago I chose to let go and let live. I’ve told Mark several times how his decisions often cut me to the core. But I can’t and won’t try to change or manage him anymore. I am not in charge of his life—only my own.”
Contrary to his normal diarrhea of the mouth, Jared was silent for a long time after I spoke. I’d never known him to contemplate anything I said, let alone really hear it. Then he said, “Guess that makes sense, Sophia. What else can we do?”
When Mark and Norma returned a little over an hour later, I was more angry and hurt than I knew what to do with.
The rest of the miserable way back to my apartment, I sat clear across the back seat, mulling things over. In the first place, Norma’s actions contradict her regular assertions that she knew Mark and I should stay together.
“You and Mark are twin rays, Kristyn!” she’d often said. “He’s in love with you! He loves Diane, but he is in love with you! You two are meant to be together forever.”
Norma won again where Mark was concerned, which had been typical all year long. Whatever Norma said, did, thought, felt, or believed was the way it was, with no ifs, ands, or buts! Not one thing I brought up, felt, or cared about mattered anymore to Mark. To complain about anything only lengthened a fight that wasn’t worth having. His ongoing denial and defensiveness of Norma’s intentions and his day-and-night need to serve her every need and wish were obviously far more important than his professed loyalty or love for Diane and me.
By fall, even before Mark’s claim that he came to Cedar City for some “quality time” with me, I’d already heard about Norma and him spending a lot of time together—holding hands while shopping and dining out, playing footsies and flashing their eyes at each other, and of having been caught in suggestive situations. Folks all over the Salt Lake Valley came out of the woodwork to tell me or my friends of things they’d witnessed and of their concerns for what was obviously a fling going on behind my back while I was away. They’d say, “What we don’t understand is how they get away with all that right in front of Jared and Diane! Are they blind? How can they be so dumb, or act like they don’t know things are going on when it’s practically right in front of their faces? Guess it’s their choice if they want to believe Norma’s and Mark’s stories, and live in denial. What about you? What are you going to do about it, Sophia?”
In my heart I knew things between Mark and Norma were not always on the up and up, but I wanted to believe in their integrity. I also wanted to believe they hadn’t “done it.” Still, it was blatantly clear Norma’s “friendship from God” was rapidly moving beyond the point of friendship. Not one thing I would say would make one bit of difference to either of them.
Earlier that spring, Norma told me, Mark was pretty much the most perfect man she’d ever met. Nothing he’d ever done, did, or would do was wrong. What I considered abuse, she said was nothing more than discipline our children deserved. She gave more reasons and excuses for his behaviors than even he’d thought of until they got their heads together. Who else had ever satiated Mark’s male ego like that? No one else connected so intensely to Mark or esteemed every word that dribbled from his intellectual brain by way of his mouth. Mark said Norma also had the capacity to help him recognize and honor the wonderful man he really was. And who else needed his sacrifice and kindness in times of crisis more than she did?
Those lengthy thoughts reminded me of the way Michelle idolized and needed me, and how much she sucked me into her life.
All in all, none of that really mattered. Maybe that’s why I didn’t try to beat the boogers out of them when I felt like it. In everything going on between them, I knew I couldn’t possibly continue in Mark’s polygamous lifestyle he was obviously not going to leave, and would be expanding.
By the time we arrived back at the apartment, all of us were exhausted. I was filled with emotion I couldn’t speak or express. I went right to bed.
In the middle of the night, after my feeble attempt to tell Mark how he and Norma’s vacation made me—and probably Jared—feel, Mark surprised me. He asked me to forgive him, saying he didn’t even realize how he’d behaved.
“Of course you didn’t—that’s my whole point, Mark,” I said. “It’s been like that ever since you two have become friends.” Again he convinced me there was nothing going on between the two of them other than Norma’s desperate need for solace and friendship in fear of her pending death.
I couldn’t be there oth
er than physically. As I’d done so many times before, I fell into the “make love and everything will be better” mode. After Mark fell asleep, silent tears poured from the corners of my eyes and drenched the pillow all around my head. I wrapped myself in a blanket and sat on the lawn under the floodlight. How on earth had I let myself fall into the same old daydreams and longings? All that wishful thinking and our newfound love had kept me with Mark for the past ten years.
At first, when we fell in love again, I’d shifted into workaholic mode in order to deal with living polygamy and to be able to stay. Even with that and a myriad of ongoing hardships, we were still in love. I thought I’d go to school and then go back home, and life would continue that way. Apparently it was another vicious joke. Then I tried to be happy enough living my own life to accept Mark’s choices and his ongoing absenteeism. In our desire to maintain peace and joy in our lives while accepting each other’s choices, we still weren’t dealing with the real issues. In my case, I needed and wanted more, and Mark obviously needed Norma to need and want him more than he needed or wanted me. He told me many times how satisfying her love, appreciation, validation, and acceptance of him were. It was tough enough to deal with Diane in his life. Now he had a girlfriend as well. By then I was certain Norma’s spirit guide would also direct her in how to divorce Jared and come out looking like a goddess to him and to her family. And because I believed she’d not die, I was sure she’d come by an honorable explanation as to why she wouldn’t be required to die, but would be expected to let Jared go. I need to get the hell out of this picture fast, I thought. If I leave, Norma can share Mark with Diane. Callie will never return to Jared, since she is deeply in love with her husband, but I can be on my way out to find a life and happiness elsewhere. My soul might even direct me to a really amazing man. But I am quite sure that man doesn’t exist.
CHAPTER 43
Calling It Quits
2001
Our fighting separated us for five days during the end of the summer. It seemed I’d never forgive Mark for spanking our three-year-old grandson so hard it left bruises on his behind. In my opinion, there was no excuse for spanking a child in the first place, let alone hitting his little bottom that hard. Again, Mark used every reason in the book to justify his behavior. I’d already separated twice during our ten-year honeymoon phase because of his displays of anger toward Anne and Keith. I hoped Mark would never spank a child again, especially one of our grandbabies. And even after we got back together way back then, I wondered why. How did I accept his justifications and forgive him? Or did I just push away the heartache as usual? It haunted me forever and a day.
To add to everything else, my resentment and anger revisited me like a punch in the stomach when Diane appeared uninvited at my home on my birthday. I’d felt similarly about her presence several times before, as I was sure she had felt about mine, but that time I was sure she had intentionally disregarded my wishes. I had already written her a letter several months previously, telling her I loved her dearly as a person, but I needed her to give me some time and space. For my own sanity I wanted and needed my home to be independent from the reality and appearance of polygamy, which she, as Mark’s other wife, represented.
Diane didn’t bring a card or a gift or say one word to me all evening long. She hung out and observed. Her presence was as invasive to me as a burglar casing out my personal belongings. She pored over my actions, the dynamics between Mark and me, and the gifts I received from others. And even though I felt assaulted by her disrespect of me, I surrendered my pride just to be kind and behave graciously.
Norma was the one I was really infuriated with. She’d already told me and others how she loved to cause trouble—how fun it was to toss some huge piece of trouble in the middle of people, then sit back and watch the mayhem she’d caused. Then Norma would do her wicked little chuckle that made her chuckle at herself some more.
That night must have been another of the jolly bombs she tossed into the wind and sat back and gloated about. Norma knew my feelings, and still she brought her friend Diane to my birthday celebration! Norma even said she could change and arrange things. According to her own words, she needed to be in control of everything and everyone around her. She’d bragged several times about how she could advise or persuade Diane to do or not do whatever she wanted. Norma took pride in that; and whether Diane knew it or not, she appeared to be one of Norma’s puppets. Along with her very questionable relationship with Mark, it was also times like those that led me to completely distrust Norma’s public declaration that she loved me.
While I cleaned up the dishes, I felt physically ill. I knew I’d dishonored myself by passing that injustice off as I’d done multiple times before, just to keep the peace, avoid a scene, and to help everyone else feel happy, safe, and guilt-free. Until the last several years, I had often gone out of my way to support peace between Mark, Diane, and our children. In my lifetime I sagaciously lived by the fictitious-but-real-in-my-head manual called How to Completely Dishonor Oneself.
I could hear my therapist’s voice again. Kris told me to create and hold onto my own serenity. Nourishing my mind, body, and spirit was not in keeping with my old, negating, pointless patterns of dysfunction.
The next morning, on my birthday, Mark and I made love and cuddled for a long time; yet my stomach was still queasy. As always, I felt extremely anxious about expressing any deep feelings, needs, or thoughts with him. Like a million times before—like a dog waiting to be kicked—I tried again. Things moved along fairly peacefully as I revealed my discomfort with Diane’s presence at my party. What was new there? Mark said he felt the same about her neediness and insecurities as he always had. But the tides changed sharply when I explained how Norma’s decision to ignore my requests, were also offensive to me.
“I wonder,” I said out loud, “if last night was one of Norma’s sinister, antagonistic pranks she proudly claims to engineer so she can sit back and delight in her manipulative powers. You’ve heard her brag a couple of times about how she loves to do that!”
“Diane has always been insecure when it comes to my feelings for you, but Norma didn’t do anything to create the problem! She loves you!”
“Then why did she bring Diane?” I asked. “What other purpose would she have, when she knows exactly how I feel about Diane coming to our house? If Norma were my friend as she claims she is, she wouldn’t have brought Diane. If she were really my friend, why does she behave otherwise and continue to sabotage us, so often?”
In Norma-defense-mode, Mark yelled about how perfect she was before he began listing my horrible offenses of the last thirty years. Some of his perceptions and feelings rang true—a lot in the past, not so much in the present. With every effort I made to defend or explain his explosive accusations, they got more intense and vile.
“Don’t you get it?” I finally cried. “Norma wants you! It shows in everything she says behind your back to me or behind my back to you. She needs you all of the time. Her God has made you her hero-friend—the one who is obligated to walk the path of death with her. There are always a million reasons she needs you! Can’t you see what a genius she is at manipulating you? She knows exactly what to say and how to say it to get you to trust her. She compliments me and criticizes herself. She tells you, me, and others, she loves me, to make you think she has our best interests in her heart. You believe that so much that when she wants to twist and turn those compliments around to make her criticism of me sound and feel valid, she always wins. Norma decides if what I’m doing, you’re doing, or Diane is doing is good or bad. Then she lets us all know her decisions, and you support her!
“I am not stupid!” Mark retorted. “Hell, So-ph-ia, you are the controlling, selfish bitch here! Nothing I ever do is good enough for you. You’re always mad at me. You never appreciate me. You don’t want me to have any friends or happiness unless it benefits you. You’re always jealous of the time I spend with Jared and Norma, and all you care about is you and w
hat makes you happy!”
By then I was sobbing. I already knew it was a hopeless cause. The more I asked Mark for details I knew he didn’t really have, so I could understand his accusations, the worse it got until he was gone.
After he left, I threw my shoes on, slammed the front door, dashed across our street, and jogged up the road until I reached the narrow trail of the muddy foothills. I pushed the play button in my head, then rewound and played those shocking words again, in deep contemplation. Where did those shocking, repulsive words spewing out of Mark’s mouth come from—Norma, or straight from hell? Mark had never before attacked me like that, even in his most tyrannical rages.
In the afternoon before I had to leave back to Cedar City, to school, Mark returned to apologize. In this long-overdue conversation we were able to discuss some of our differences in a fairly calm manner. He tried to explain away his wrath toward and complaints about me, blaming them on stress. Then he listened to some of my explanations. I told him that aside from him allowing his “new friends” to consume his whole life, his decision to back out of his family’s life the past year had unraveled my trust in him.
“You not only vanished from me. When you encouraged me to go clear down to southern Utah, you promised me you’d make sure Anne and Keith had their needs met. You said you’d take care of their health insurance, our yard, the bills, the house payments, and even send me $300 a month until I could return to help financially. You did it all for a few weeks and then you just quit! It’s a blessing others were able to stay at our house in your absence. At least Keith and Anne could count on them a little to help with food and transportation! How could you let everything slide until shit was flying in all directions? What on earth did you do with all of your income, Mark? We’re three house payments behind—it’s in foreclosure again! I had to charge our house payments on credit cards and get a student loan to get me by after you quit sending me money, and—”