Stolen Innocence (44 page)

Lamont nodded in understanding. “I know,” he said softly.

We sat quietly for a few minutes staring out at the rapidly disappearing sun. Finally I asked, “What do I do now?”

“That’s something you have to decide for yourself,” he said. “I love you and I would be the luckiest guy in the world to have you.” His voice wavered as he continued. “The person you are with doesn’t have a right to be with you,” he explained. “I don’t care who told you to do this. Whether it was God, the prophet, your parents, or anybody else. No man should treat anybody how he treats you. I’m not going to force you to be with me; only you can make that decision. But I’m here and I’m not going anywhere.”

I was struck by his honesty. We talked about how to proceed. I was nervous about what my fate would be if I left. “Is the Devil going to be waiting for me?” I asked.

“I’ve had the same struggle. I left, came back, and left again,” Lamont said. “It’s hard because once you question one thing, you start to question everything. And this whole life you know and all this suffering hasn’t all been for nothing. You have to always remember one thing,” he explained, recalling Joseph Smith, the founder of the religion we were a part of. “Joseph Smith said that ‘happiness is the object and design of our existence.’ God would not want you to throw your life away now for some unknown future.”

“If I leave Allen, can I still go to heaven?” I asked, probably sounding somewhat like a scared young child.

“All I know,” he said, “is that you have to make a choice in your own heart, and I believe that your heart will tell you right whatever it is.”

T
he next couple of weeks were a confusing yet happy time. Just to know that someone out there loved me was empowering. Nevertheless, doubts swarmed my mind as I began to scrutinize the FLDS with a fresh intensity. I knew what was going on in our church was unjust—from Warren to the marriage to plural marriage—but I couldn’t have those thoughts without thinking that I would be damned to hell.

I didn’t know how to make this giant leap into the unknown. Each time I pictured my future on the outside, images of my mother and sisters flooded into my mind. I knew all too well the feelings of abandonment that Sherrie and Ally would experience, and I didn’t want to subject them to that. If I wasn’t there, who would protect them from being married off when they were still kids? I had already seen that Mom didn’t have the ability to stand up for them. There was nothing I feared more than the girls experiencing my fate.

Mixed with these emotions was a new feeling. I started to recognize that I needed to take care of myself, too. Being with Lamont was one of the only times I felt safe, and if I turned down that comfort, I might never get it back. This wasn’t just about my mom and my sisters; it was about me.

When I could, I would drive out to visit Lamont at T.R.’s house. One night, I stayed late socializing with T.R. and his wife while Lamont was in Durango on business. Weary from a long day and dreading the options of sleeping in my car in the desert or being confined to the trailer with Allen, I decided to stay the night in Lamont’s room. Over the next couple of months, I continued to find respite in the safety of the guest room that Lamont was renting in T.R.’s home, but I only stayed there on the weekdays when Lamont was away at a job site.

I wasn’t comfortable sharing a room with Lamont yet, and I worried that he would grow impatient with me for not sleeping with him. That moment never arrived. On the contrary, Lamont assured me that any romantic overtures would have to come from me. He would not partake in any intimate contact unless I initiated it. For the first time since I’d married Allen, I didn’t feel as though somebody wanted something from me. Lamont’s putting me in control of the situation was a powerful gesture. Knowing that he had no intention of coming on to me made it easier to let my guard down and allow him to see who I really was.

I will never forget our first kiss. We were sitting in the truck by the white rocks, and I told him that I had finally made up my mind. “I want to be with you,” I declared. “I want to be happy with you. And to…have a life.” Images flashed in my mind of what life with Lamont could be like—babies and birthdays and unrestricted love. My heart and mind were ready to take this leap forward, and on this night I was ready to kiss him for the first time. I hadn’t planned it; it just came over me as I looked at the face I had grown to love so much. I leaned in and he followed suit. The kiss was brief but magical—soft, passionate, and absolutely nothing like Allen.

“It’s going to take some time for me to leave,” I explained. “I’m scared to leave my mom and the girls behind.” Lamont knew that the tiny remaining family I had in Hildale relied heavily on me to make sure they had clean clothes, socks, and everything else. Mom had just had foot surgery and was laid up in bed recuperating. Although Ally and Sherrie looked out for each other, they were both too young to adequately help Mom or see to their own daily needs. Sherrie was now thirteen, and Ally was ten. I would have to give them up completely if I left the FLDS, and the thought was too much for me to handle.

“I understand,” Lamont said. “I really do.”

Over the next few months, Lamont and I grew more and more in love by the day, while my relationship with Allen dwindled to nothing except for the fact that we technically shared a “home.” People in the community viewed us as married, and no one knew the truth about my absences. Fear of Warren had kept Allen’s complaints to a minimum, and so all I had to do was stay out of Allen’s way. I always remembered the promise I had made to myself months earlier never to be Allen’s victim again. The only way to make sure I kept that promise was to avoid him, so that’s what I did. What I really wanted to do was scream out to the world that there wasn’t even a piece of me that still belonged to Allen, but lifting that veil would have risked everything. It hurt to deceive the people I cared for most, but my position was impossible. It was either my family or my heart.

Lamont’s love had cocooned me, and by April, my apprehension about sharing a bed with him evaporated. Being with him felt so natural, and I no longer wanted us to be apart. However, this change renewed my concerns about expectations for any physical component of our relationship.

“I’m a virgin,” he confided. Smiling, he again reassured me, “I’ve waited twenty-five years. What’s a few more? I don’t want you for your body. I’m not here for that. I care about you.”

Upon hearing those words, I found myself even more drawn to him. Shortly thereafter, we began to plan our future together. Still, for all of our optimism, I was not ready to take the leap of faith and leave the FLDS.

I was alone in Lamont’s room one day in May when a knock at the door startled me. I knew he was on his way back to town, but he wasn’t supposed to be arriving this early. Fixing my hair, I opened the door to find a deliveryman holding an enormous bouquet of flowers, and ripping open the card, I savored Lamont’s words. When Lamont arrived several hours later, he was clutching a second, even more enormous bouquet. The plastic wrap that encircled the flowers crinkled as we fell together in a hug, and later on that night I prepared a special prime-rib dinner that I had brought home from work.

“Lamont, I love you so much,” I blurted out as we sipped the sparkling cider he’d brought home. For the first time ever, I longed to be intimate with a man. I snuggled up close and whispered that I was ready to give myself to him. Being with him was not at all like being with Allen. The softness of Lamont’s touch, the warmth of his body next to mine, and the incredible connection I felt to him was more than I could have ever hoped for. I had always known that Allen and I were never meant to be together. Now I know that God had sent Lamont to save me.

S
pring turned to summer and life continued to change rapidly. I was still working at the Twain, saving pennies toward a bright future. I was excited and apprehensive as my eighteenth birthday rolled around on July 7. My period was late and I went to the drugstore to grab a pregnancy test. It was a process I knew all too well, but I had always experienced this moment with a sense of dread and panic. This time as I watched the two positive lines appear on the stick, I wasn’t sure how to react. To my amazement. I didn’t feel guilty—only excited.

Not wanting to keep the news a total secret, I phoned Meg to tell her. I had been confiding in her about my relationship with Lamont, and now I squealed into my cell that I was pregnant. Meg was thrilled by the news, and then she told me that she was pregnant, too.

“Just leave, Lesie,” Meg instructed. “Leave and be happy with him. He’ll take care of you.”

I knew Meg was right. Ever since I’d decided that I wanted to be with Lamont, it was as if I’d been waiting for the right moment, the right reason, to present itself. Now I was pregnant with his baby; if this wasn’t the right moment, then there probably would not be one.

Lamont called my cell phone that day and said that he had something to give me for my birthday. I wanted to see him so badly, but I was a little nervous too. I knew that I would have to tell him about the pregnancy, but I didn’t want to scare him off. I was scared myself. This was a big step, and despite my excitement, I worried how it would affect our lives. This would be the first true test of our commitment to each other. When my shift ended, I hurriedly drove out to meet him at T.R.’s house.

I walked into his room, and Lamont greeted me with a single, red rose, an embrace, and a kiss. I was nervous, wondering if he somehow suspected the pregnancy. As if the flowers weren’t romantic enough, he walked across the room to put on some soft music for us. Then he came back over to me, kneeling down on one knee.

At first, I didn’t understand what was happening. “Why are you on your knee?” I asked, laughing a little bit at his silly pose. In the FLDS there is no such thing as an engagement or a proposal, and there never has been. This romantic tradition was something I had only encountered in the handful of movies and television shows I’d seen. I felt my heart beating faster as Lamont slowly pulled a ring from his pocket.

“You don’t have to answer right now,” he said cautiously. “But I want you to know that even if the whole world chases us away, I love you and nothing is going to change that.”

I placed my hand in his and allowed him to put the beautiful ring on my finger. It had belonged to his mother, which made it all the more special.

“I have news for you,” I said, smiling between kisses.

“Oh?” he said, still laughing with the joy of the moment.

“Um…I’m pregnant,” I said, hoping that he would be as thrilled as I was. I’d been betrayed so many times by the men in my life. And while I believed that Lamont was different, I still worried that this very serious situation might scare him off. “We’re going to have a baby.”

Lamont’s laughter subsided. “Say that again.”

“I’m pregnant,” I repeated.

The confusion in his face turned into a big grin. Lamont had been dreaming of becoming a father for years. Everything about the moment felt right, and in my mind I was completely ready to rid myself of the church, Warren, and Allen. Despite his happiness, I could see Lamont was also concerned about me. He knew my history with pregnancies, and we both knew what it would mean to leave the FLDS for real. It always would have been difficult, but now it would be necessary. It was time for me to stop talking about leaving and actually do it.

C
HAPTER
T
WENTY-FOUR

CHOOSING MY FUTURE

An apostate from this Work is the most dark person on earth.

—
WARREN JEFFS

F
or the next several months I struggled with my inevitable decision to leave. I knew I couldn’t ride the fence and have a foot in both worlds. Eventually I would have to make that leap, but until that point, I could not bring myself to say a final good-bye. Though I’d begun to disagree with aspects of our religion, the thought of Mom, Sherrie, and Ally thinking of me as wicked was too painful.

The longer I stayed, the more I risked conflicts and confrontation with Allen. While I’d been avoiding him for the better part of a year, he was growing increasingly upset that I never called and never came back to the trailer in the evenings. It had been many months since I’d last stayed the night, and it seemed the only remaining thing that connected us was the priesthood’s title of marriage, which I didn’t feel obligated to honor. I felt in my heart there had never been a marriage; it had been a sham.

As the weeks passed that summer, Allen’s hostility escalated. He’d begun leaving me dozens of messages, saying things like “You either choose me or else.” All of them went unreturned. He couldn’t bully me into submission as he’d done in the past, and my unwillingness to engage only frustrated him further.

Once, when he’d seen me at Uncle Fred’s house with Mom, Sherrie, and Ally, he’d actually confronted me about his suspicions that I was spending time with people outside of the FLDS. “Why are you fraternizing with apostates?” he asked me.

“Well, they’re only apostates in some people’s minds,” I told him.

“Well, I want it stopped!” Allen commanded.

I just stared at him blankly. He no longer had a hold on me, and my indifference only made him angrier.

On another occasion in late summer, Allen returned to the trailer to find me there gathering up some of my clothes. “Why don’t you come home and be a wife?” he asked.

“Because you lost your chance,” I retorted. “You have used and abused me, and I will not keep myself in these shoes.”

Our conversation grew heated, and when I blurted out a smart-aleck remark, I felt the sting of Allen’s hand across my cheek. A ripple of fury swept through me. “You will never, ever, lay another hand on me, ever!” I yelled.

“What are you trying to tell me?” Allen snapped. “You’re done?”