Phillip opened the front door with a flourish. “Come on in. I’ll show you where you’ll be living.”
Stepping inside, Jack looked around. After the outside, he’d expected a seriously Spartan interior, with scant decoration and functional furniture. He saw he’d been correct about the furniture—the small living room contained a boxy, two-cushion couch, one chair, a plain, rectangular coffee table and a matching end table. But the real surprise hung on the walls.
Paintings—splashes of lush color—hung on the walls. A landscape here, a floral there. An abstract, and a portrait. All of those in one room. Intrigued, Jack strolled over to inspect the landscape, which appeared to be inspired by the local forests surrounding the compound.
Now, Jack was no judge of art, but he knew what he liked and this—clean lines, bold brushstrokes of color—was it. “That’s amazing,” he said. “Who’s the artist?”
“Me,” Phillip responded, pleasure warming his voice. Jack turned to see his new roommate beaming with pride. “When I was in school, I demonstrated this talent, so I was permitted to keep it as my hobby.”
“Permitted?” The word slipped out, but Jack felt it was reasonable.
“Everyone is allowed to have one hobby, as long as it doesn’t interfere with their work and study of the Volumes of Choice.”
Though Jack hadn’t heard of the Volumes of Choice, it seemed pretty self-explanatory. It must be COE’s religious tenet.
Instead of commenting, he moved on to inspect the next painting. A single flower, painted in five different shades of the same color. Beautiful, in a completely different way than the first painting, though the artist’s style remained the same.
He moved onto the third and then the fourth. “You’re really talented, Phillip.”
Clearly pleased, the other man ducked his head. Eyeing him, with his large, beefy frame and thick, callused hands, Jack couldn’t picture his fingers holding a paintbrush. Just goes to show, once again, Jack thought, that one couldn’t judge people by their exterior.
“Come on,” Phillip said. “Let me show you the rest of the place.”
In addition to a cozy kitchenette, there were two small, identical bedrooms and one bathroom. If not for the brightness of the paintings hung everywhere, it would have been a very dull, even depressing, place.
“I sure am glad you paint,” Jack said as he inspected his bedroom. A huge painting of a lake under a full moon hung at the head of the twin bed.
“Are you?” Phillip chuckled. “I was about to ask you if you wanted me to remove that painting.”
“No. Please don’t. I really like it.”
“Great.” Phillip backed out of the room. “Listen, Thomas wants you to go to work with me tomorrow. I start work at eight, so please be ready to leave by around seven thirty or so.”
Surprised, Jack nodded. “Sure. Can I ask what I’ll be doing?”
“Whatever I need you to.” Phillip’s easy smile seemed reassuring. “I work in construction, doing mostly interior finishing work on new buildings. You’ll tag along with me and we’ll see what you might be good at. Does that sound okay to you?”
Wondering what the other man would do if he said no, Jack nodded.
“Great. We eat supper at six. I’ll cook tonight and then we’ll work out a schedule for chores.”
Before Jack could respond, Phillip closed the door and left him alone with his thoughts.
* * *
The next day Sophia reported to work, unable to keep from wishing her handsome former patient was still there. She needed a distraction, and she told herself it was only because she liked having someone to look after. The clinic had no current patients at all, and she didn’t expect any to show up today. Dr. Drew spent one day every two or three weeks visiting each family groups’ assortment of children and this was that day.
Often, Sophia went along with him. She had fond memories of her childhood family group and of all her parents. In COE the close connection between mother and child was severed once the child was a week or two old, when the infant was passed among a small group of nursing mothers so the child didn’t bond to any one in particular. Despite this, Sophia often dreamed of the day when she, too, would have her own baby. The thought had always filled her with so much longing and joy. Of course, that dream, like so many others, didn’t seem destined to come to fruition now.
For the first time she wondered about Ezekiel’s children. He had many, she knew. Grandchildren, too. He paraded them all in front of everyone when the Chosen had celebrations. Ezekiel took pride in his offspring, along with his numerous wives. Of course, some of his children were actually twice as many years older than Sophia, of an age to be her own birth parents. And while she knew Ezekiel had a lot of wives, she knew nothing about them as he tended to keep them hidden away from the general populace.
While she loved the way her COE family raised children as a group rather than with only a small, singular couple, she wasn’t sure how she felt about being one of many women married to one man.
Check that. Okay, she knew how she felt. She didn’t like it. At all. Or wouldn’t have, had her new spouse been anyone other than Ezekiel. On the plus side, maybe being one of many would mean once the newness wore off, he would let her disappear into the crowd and forget she existed.
The prospect of a loveless, unfulfilled life made her feel even worse. Tears pricked the backs of her eyes and she let herself wallow in self-pity.
“Girl, you’re not going to believe this!” Ana rushed into the room, waving her arms in excitement. She skidded to a stop, eyeing Sophia askance. “Are you crying?”
“No,” Sophia lied, wiping at her eyes. “My allergies are bad today.”
“Oh.” Ana accepted her explanation with a shrug. “Listen. Deirdre has asked to see you.” Ana spoke the words as if giving Sophia a great and unexpected gift. “You’ve got to get yourself cleaned up pronto. She wants you at the main house in thirty minutes and you know it’s at least a five-minute walk.”
The main house. Sophia swallowed hard. Deirdre was Ezekiel’s first wife. As the first and the eldest, she was in charge of all the others. Sophia had never met her, though she’d certainly heard of her and seen her at her husband’s side.
Generally, Deirdre was regarded as a woman of importance, second only to her husband, Ezekiel, and his assistants.
Though she suspected she knew, Sophia asked anyway. “Why?”
Ana frowned. “No doubt to give you all the rules you’ll have to follow once you’re a member of the Anointed One’s household.”
Rules. Sophia winced. When she’d dreamed of her life as a married woman, not once had she thought it would be upended so completely. Usually, the married couple chose which household to join—some became part of the wife’s and others chose the husband’s. Clearly, wedding someone of Ezekiel’s stature meant Sophia would move into the big house and become part of what she’d always privately thought of as the harem.
“Sophia?” Ana’s voice cut into her thoughts. “Are you there?”
“Yes. Sorry, I was just thinking.”
“Well, you can think later. Right now, you’d better run home and change,” Ana urged. “You can’t go meet Deirdre dressed like that.”
Sophia looked down at her work dress. “Since she sent for me while I’m at work, I’m thinking she probably knows what I do. I think this will be just fine.”
Though Ana actually gasped, she didn’t argue. “At least wash your face and take your hair down.”
Actually, Sophia thought the