50 Years in Polygamy: Big Secrets and Little White Lies Read online

  I listened to the ice crackle as it slid from the riverbank into the water. Twenty minutes later, Graham’s approach was given away by the snow crunching under his shoes. He pulled my sweater off my face and moved quickly to block the early afternoon sun from my eyes. His handsome face smiled.

  “What’s up, Kristyn?”

  I got up and gave him a big hug before we sat down on top of the table side by side. “Thanks for coming, Graham. You’re the sane man I trust and need to talk to.”

  “Ah, you knew I’d come over! You’ve been around plenty of times for me! What’s up? Are you okay?”

  “No! You already know Mark divorced Diane and me . . . anyway I was through with all of it! I’ve been really happy and settled between the swells and waves of pain.”

  “Your family and Diane are having a hell of a time, and you’re still getting the blame?” he guessed.

  “Yes, but that’s not my biggest dilemma right now,” I sighed. “Do you remember me talking about my friend Lyle—the guy I met on the phone and then at Hart’s Gas Station right before my summer break?”

  “He’s the guy who owns a ranch in Colorado Springs?”

  “Yes. We met each other again, at Denny’s sometime in October when he traveled through town with a buddy.” I smiled. “All in all we’ve probably talked on the phone over a hundred hours.”

  “You slept with him, didn’t you?”

  I felt a little embarrassed. “Good grief, Graham. You sure made that easy!” For a minute I forgot where my thoughts were going. “Are you upset and disappointed in me?”

  “Of course not! Why should I be? You’re a beautiful woman! Why wouldn’t he want to be with you and love you?”

  “Thanks, Graham. I know Lyle loves me, and that’s why . . . well, when things . . . my relationship with Lyle was tender and benevolent, a rewarding experience I will never regret.”

  I started crying, and my thoughts dissolved into mush. The old song by Terry Jacks played in my head. Tears streamed down my face, and I began to sing the lyrics in my head. We had joy, we had fun, we had seasons in the sun. But the hills that we climbed were just seasons out of time . . . Then it was quiet.

  “I’m here, Sophia. I’m still listening.” Graham’s words and the feel of his arm placed around my shoulder drew me back.

  “It was wonderful! I cared about Lyle for five months. We fought with and resisted every stupid, wild, crazy emotion one could imagine so I could make my marriage work and stay with Mark. Lyle and I were sure after we met in the summer, things would never work between us even if I was single. I knew darn well I didn’t need any excuses, but I used them, just in case. Mark divorced Diane and me. He knew what it was like being with more than one woman. I always thought what was good for the gander was good for the goose. Two and a half weeks after I got home after my birthday, I gave in! I wanted to know if I could love someone else and if he could really love me. Mark would say, ‘No one can touch, caress, or love you like I do, Sophia,’ Mark would often remind me.’” I found that wasn’t at all true.

  “Now you’re feeling guilty?” Graham said.

  “It’s not so much guilt. It’s plausible deception I’m more concerned about. Maybe I should tell Mark, even though I know he doesn’t want to know. Then he can decide if he still wants me back or not.”

  “Kristyn, what are you talking about? You told me you were done with that marriage. He divorced you! You don’t owe him an explanation!”

  “I was done, Graham! That’s why I needed to talk to you. Mark begged me to come back to him, to try to work things out. He’s called me nearly every day for just over a week. The first four or five days I told him no. Besides Diane’s feelings, there were a hundred more reasons. But we talked and listened to what each of us needed, wanted, and didn’t want—our dreams and expectations and the things we could and couldn’t count on. We discussed just about everything we hadn’t ever made work, and how we’d be able to make things work now that we could have a monogamous marriage.”

  Graham looked confused and angry, but I kept talking. “Mark assured me all that matters to him is being able to make us work. So we decided we’d both be willing to do whatever it takes. We made promises we want and intend to keep.”

  “It sounds like he sucked you in again, Kristyn.” Graham’s deep voice was tense and choppy. “Do you really trust him? Won’t he just keep seeing Diane?

  “No, Norma,” I said.

  “Norma?” Graham’s blazing eyes pierced mine. “Is Norma still in the picture?”

  I nodded.

  “I think he still wants to be a polygamist like he told you so many times! Aren’t you worried he’ll be with them behind your back and pretend he’s only with you? What about the hell he put you through this last year? Have you forgotten?”

  Graham paused. “Listen Kristyn, it’s just . . . Well, I’m not sure I’m trying to change your mind, even though it sounds like I am. I know how you feel about Mark. I’m just worried about you. And what about Lyle? You just told me he loves you. It sounds like you love him too. Does he get a say in any of this? Are you two . . .?”

  I gently pressed my finger over Graham’s lips to shush him. “Yes, we’re over. However I told him about Mark’s proposition two or three days after Mark’s first call, when I was sure I wouldn’t return to him. Lyle will be devastated when I tell him I’ve changed my mind.”

  “So what will you do?”

  “That’s a good question. All I know is, even after all the pandemonium we’ve been through, I still love Mark. We might have a fighting chance.”

  “Are you going to tell Mark about Lyle?”

  “The only reason I should, I think, is because I would want him to tell me if it was the other way around. But Mark hasn’t wanted me to know anything about his “personal” life. And he made it clear he didn’t want to know if I were to ever have an affair. Maybe that’s his way of letting himself off the hook.”

  “But you didn’t have an affair. He divorced you.”

  “Yup, I guess that lets me off the hook,” I smiled.

  “Won’t your feelings about Lyle get in the way of working things out with Mark?”

  “I don’t know. But I won’t know if I don’t try. Lyle is a very good friend! We both felt safe with each other. We adored each other. I loved his sense of humor and his love of life and nature. But both of us know it could never go beyond there.”

  “Kristyn, several times you told me to listen to my heart,” Graham said. “So now I’m telling you to do the same. Listen to what your heart is telling you.”

  “I’ve gone deep so many times this past week I might become stoic if I’m not careful,” I explained. “My heart tells me if I don’t do everything I can do to make our marriage work I’ll be sorry.”

  “You’ve already done everything you know how to make it work,” Graham insisted.

  “I know, and I still waver back and forth. Part of me feels it’s just plain selfish of me to try again. I worry every day about Diane and our kids. They’ll hate me! But Mark promises he'll work things out. In the torrent of pain I’ve been in for so many months, I’ve withered away from Mark. After the past few days, somewhere deep inside, a tiny spark ignited my hopes again. Maybe that’s crazy, but under the right circumstances that flicker might be so powerful it will burst into a magnificent flame—enough to keep our kids and grandchildren intact. That alone would be worth every effort in the world, wouldn’t it?”

  Graham waited for quite some time before he responded. “Sounds like you’re sure of what you want to do. You both want a happy life together. Now you may finally have a chance.”

  *****

  My bedroom closet was nearly empty. I’d packed everything I wouldn’t be using for a few days. The last thing I saw, way back on the top shelf, was a small white box dotted with tiny red and blue flowers. My heart pounded as I took it down and held it in both hands. Where is Lyle now? I wondered. Is he feeding his horses, gathering the hay, or pl
aying his guitar? I have to tell him I’m going back to Mark.

  My thoughts meandered back and forth from Lyle, to Mark, to Lyle. What would be different with Mark this time around? We promised each other we’d do all we could to work on our relationship, but both of us had already done that more times than we could count. Will it really be different now that our kids are all nearing adulthood and heading in their own directions? Can we create a new life together without living polygamy—without Diane?

  One minute those dreams felt so good, and the next things felt terrible. How could I be in panic and in hope all within the same few minutes? “Get busy and do something! Don’t think!” I commanded myself.

  I stuffed my last batch of laundry into the washer. When my phone rang and I saw the 829 prefix on the caller ID, my stomach tightened.

  “Hi, sunshine!” Lyle said. I nearly cried at the sound of his voice. “We stopped by Mom’s so I could call and tell ya ga-bye again. Me ’n’ Corry are headin’ to Lake Powell to play, and . . . uh, I . . . mmm . . .I’m sure missin’ ya, baby. I’m not sure I can live without ya.”

  His voice faded. I could tell he didn’t know how to say what he was thinking, but he went on. “It’s just, well, this is just bullshit, us bein’ apart like this. I can’t let ya leave ’n’ go home now! I need ya, and want us ta figure out how we can be together. Listen, Kristyn, just come down here and we’ll work it out! I’ve been figuring things out and . . . just get a paper—I’m gonna tell ya how to get down here, okay?”

  Even five hundred miles apart, Lyle and I loved and supported each other through one of the toughest years of each of our lives. We prized the times we laughed and buoyed each other through difficult times. The possibility of me moving to Colorado, or him to Salt Lake or to Cedar City, was only a dream. Neither of us could leave our careers, our children, or the new lives we’d been creating. From the time we met, we planned on being “telephone friends” forever. The real difficulty for us came after the intense closeness we shared through our long weekend together. Saying goodbye was hell.

  “Lyle,” I said as quickly as I could, “we both know—”

  “I know, hon,” he interrupted, “but thingser different now. I know we can do this!”

  “I’m going home, Lyle!” I said as strongly as I could.

  “I know ya are, honey, but we—”

  “I’m going back to Mark so we can—”

  “Just stop that bullshit, Kristyn!” Lyle cut in. “I won’t hear it! No way! What the hell’s gotten into ya, baby? Are ya crazy? It’s taken ya years ta leave and now yer finally free from that cockamamie cult crap and from Mark, and yer talkin’ like yer goin’ back? Good hell, Kris, ya can’t go back to him!”

  Lyle’s rage in my behalf opened the deep wounds in my heart. As hard as I tried not to, I broke down. My body slumped to the floor. When I could breathe again, I tried to persuade him, my decision was for the best.

  “Please listen to me, Lyle. Mark asked me to give us another try again now that we can be a normal monogamist couple, and I think we can—”

  “Bullshit! Ya know damn well it won’t work. What the hell are ya thinkin’, girl? He’s gonna rope ya in and pretend he’s left his other wife, but ya know he’ll be doin’ her on the side while yer up there trustin’ away!”

  By then I was nauseous with my influx of raw emotion.

  “Listen to me—listen good,” Lyle went on. “This is really pissin’ me off! You’ve been doin’ so good. You’ve been so happy down there away from all that shit. What can I do ta stop ya, baby? Is it money? If you need some, I’ve got some. I’ll send ya as much as ya need. Better yet, I’ll come up an’ get ya. Just don’t go back! Please, Kristyn, I’m beggin’ ya, don’t go back to Mark!”

  Through my tears, I mustered enough courage to end his pleading before I jumped in my car and drove the five hundred miles to his waiting arms and to a perfectly wonderful dream world.

  “Please stop, Lyle! I’ve got to go now. No money! No more calls! No more letters! Promise me, Lyle. Nothing!”

  He still didn’t hang up. I should have. I listened to his heavy breathing and envisioned his chest in its exhausted rise and fall in cadence with mine. Together we struggled for air—something we might have power over.

  “Ya know I love ya, don’t ya? I do love ya, baby. Please wait for me!” He was pleading again, through sniffles this time. “Ya know we can figure it out. We can—”

  His words were ripping my heart out. “I love you too, Lyle, and I am so sorry.”

  “I’ll always love ya, Kristyn. Promise you’ll call if it don’t work out. And call me if ya need me or some money or anything. Promise me, baby. I need ta hear ya say it before I can hang up.”

  We had a beginning. We had to have an end. We had joy and we had fun. We had a weekend in the sun. “But the hills that we climbed were just seasons out of time”—and a gift we’d forever treasure.

  I dragged my weary body into my bedroom and crashed on the bed.

  In the morning, my eyes were almost swollen shut from crying so much. Lyle’s own torment and words filled my head. Would my move back home be like moving into an abyss of darkness? My endeavor to find myself and feel complete was still an ongoing process. I’d gained a great deal of self-esteem and self-reliance. Lyle was right. I’d never felt more alive and empowered in my whole life. I’d never felt such safety and serenity. Were Mark’s pleas just another ploy to draw me back to insanity? I didn’t think so. It certainly hadn’t felt that way.

  But what about this past year?

  There were too many contradictions in his behaviors and his words. I saw how he looked at Norma and how she looked at him. They’d both made it so workable and convenient to go everywhere together—to come and go alone and in their three-way friendship with her husband. It wasn’t Diane I thought he might be “doin’,” as Lyle suggested. I also knew from my own experience and Mark’s own theories, male-female friendships more often than not lead to sexual relationships. Why in the hell am I going back? I thought. When it came to Mark, Norma’s thoughts, needs, feelings, opinions, and ideas superseded mine. Over the past week, he had promised me several times it wouldn’t be that way anymore. Along with his big words and promises was his assurance of Norma’s deep love and devotion to helping us work things out so we could be together without hurting Diane.

  My love and affection for Lyle would remain a joyous memory. But wouldn’t the reality of Norma and Mark’s physical and emotional connection stay with them forever?

  *****

  Graham returned my call on his lunch break.

  “Hi, Graham, bet you’re surprised to hear from me again,” I said as cheerfully as I could.

  “Yeah, I thought I wouldn’t hear from you for a few weeks.”

  “I panicked and was sick all over after Lyle called yesterday. He was shattered and angrier than I thought he would be. All morning long I couldn’t get your warnings and his out of my head. I’m afraid I’m making a big mistake. What if I’m not doing the right thing?”

  I must have succeeded in converting Graham to the pros of my reconciliation with Mark, when we’d talked before. He convincingly spoon-fed them back to me. He reminded me of how elated I sounded when I recounted my recent fantasies of Mark and me doing the Texas two-step without missing a beat, and of hiking the back side of Mount Timpanogos again.

  Graham reminded me of the wondrous images I conjured, which after four days of Mark’s pleading caused me to say yes to his determined proposal. In those daydreams, Mark and I danced and made love on a beach in the Cayman Islands. We traveled, worked, and played together in all the ways we’d ever talked and dreamed of. Our children, grandchildren, and their children hung out with us. They laughed at our old-age dementia, and helped us back up when we fell down.

  “Sophia, remember the other day when I took your hand and set it against my heart?” Graham asked tenderly.

  “Yes.”

  “Do you remember what I said?”


  “Yes. Tell me again, Graham. I want to hear it again.”

  “Well, I told you, I know you love Mark, and he loves you. You both want a wonderful life together, so give it a try! Go for it!”

  “Thanks, Graham. It means more than you will ever know to have your support and understanding.”

  “I care about you, Kristyn. I want you to be happy. You of all people deserve happiness!”

  I quietly placed the receiver back on the wall jack as if I might wake a sleeping baby. I replayed Graham’s words over and over, hoping to inscribe them in my mind so they could encourage me until everything was as perfect as I contemplated.

  CHAPTER 45

  Burning Bridges

  Winter 2001

  On the edge of my desk was my white letter box full of memorabilia. Its content was extraordinary—possibly lurid to others—and drummed up a metaphorical dance of turmoil. In the middle of my front-room floor I examined the handful of notes, letters, and pictures one last time. How I wished that segment of my life with Lyle was just a figment of my imagination. If only I could take it all back and change the timing! Why did Mark wait so damn long to make such a mind-boggling decision after all these years? He told me at least twenty times in the past ten years he would never leave Diane. Now that he wanted us, I’d be the bad wife and mother!

  For my grown kids, it was already terrible enough I was leaving their dad. They didn’t know he’d divorced us. Norma said Diane believed I had given Mark an ultimatum, saying if he didn’t leave her, I would leave him. What on God’s green earth was I thinking? What Mark and I wanted would create a war inside and outside of all of us. Nevertheless, he swore somehow, by some miracle, we would be able to work things out.

  I wanted to create a special ritual with the few but tender notes from Lyle and the pictures. I couldn’t just tear them up and throw them in the garbage can. Tears filled my eyes as I looked at my favorite photo of us. The towel was wrapped around Lyle’s hips, and his right arm held me close. My right arm was crossed over my breasts and across Lyle’s hairy chest, hugging him tightly. Neither of us wanted our weekend to end, which was obvious by the tears in our eyes as we stared longingly at each other in the mirror when he snapped the picture. I laughed and cried as I read every word of the few letters and cards I had printed from Lyle’s e-mails. “Let me be able to say goodbye to Lyle forever!” I said to my higher power. “Help me to let go of him as if nothing had ever happened. Please, Creator, don’t let this come between Mark and me.”