A Texas-Made Family. Roz Fox Denny

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СКАЧАТЬ “I’ll do my best to catch the eleven-twenty bus. I hope I’ll be home by midnight.”

      Her son stepped out of the kitchen, sandwich in hand. “I wish you only had to work at the beauty shop, Mom. Me and Lisa never get to hang with friends. Like Lisa said, we aren’t babies anymore. I don’t understand why you won’t trust us.”

      “I trust you, Jordan. Honey, I work two jobs so that your future, and Lisa’s, will be secure. Be better than mine. You’ll have plenty of time after you get your education to hang out with friends.”

      “Maybe we’d rather have a little fun now.” His eyes remained darkly accusatory as he bit into his sandwich.

      Rebecca had the door open, and she saw her bus lumbering through the intersection, so she had to leave immediately or put Darcy in a bind.

      She hated to go feeling as if she’d failed both her kids. All of this unhappiness had come about in a matter of weeks. Because of that boy—Ryan Lane.

      Maybe Darcy could help her decide whether to contact the boy’s father.

      Running to catch her bus, Rebecca was out of breath when she climbed on and took the first available window seat. The bus was nearly empty, so Rebecca had a seat by herself. The long ride, unfortunately, allowed her too much time to think.

      Had she been wrong to hide so much of her past from her children? They knew she’d grown up in a Mennonite community in Oregon’s Willamette Valley. Once or twice she’d probably mentioned working from dawn to dark in the community orchards and in the sheds, stirring hot vats of apple butter and peach preserves. Maybe she hadn’t been clear enough that leaving the order and her family had had nothing to do with the work, but with the highly restrictive lifestyle. That was why she’d married Jack. They’d both wanted out.

      Lisa and Jordan knew she’d been estranged from her folks since before they were born. They seemed to accept the lack of grandparents, so Rebecca had never felt a need to explain the practice of shunning.

      But even prior to the shunning, Rebecca had always felt stifled in the small community. She had routinely spent hours in a barren chapel kneeling on hard wooden planks. Her parents, the Epps, did shop occasionally in the nearby town. It was on those outings that Rebecca glimpsed how other people lived. People not bound by austere beliefs.

      By the time she was in high school, many of her friends had quit school to work on the family farm. Very few attended the secular public school in Salem.

      Families in her community were split between Mennonite and a more rigid sect—the Amish branch of the Anabaptist-Mennonites. The Amish eschewed all modern conveniences and traveled by horse and buggy. Rebecca’s family, being just as spiritually focused but slightly less culturally separatist, allowed her to ride the school bus that stopped at the bottom of their hill.

      Her first day of high school, she’d shared a seat with Lacy Hoerner, another freshman, who turned out to be a font of information. Rebecca had been like a sponge. Every day her book bag held a sandwich, an apple and a Bible. Lacy’s was more like a portable cosmetic counter, full of lipstick, eye shadow, mascara and nail polish in every color of the rainbow. As well, Lacy was a master at conjuring up all the latest hairstyles. Rebecca liked being her model and, right then, longed to be a beautician one day. That was the most enjoyable period of her life. Then her brother, Mark, two years older and far more aligned with the church’s teachings, tattled to their parents and ruined everything.

      Her parents came down on her hard. It was the end of her schooling in town. The end of all future trips there. She had tried to give up wanting to learn, tried to go home and be the dutiful Mennonite daughter. But she wasn’t able to do it. That small taste of the outside world led to a series of decisions that seemed right at the time, but eventually proved to be a big mistake. Even so, she’d relive even the worst years to be able to have her children.

      That was why it had felt like a knife in her heart when Lisa announced today that she wished she could go live with her father.

      The bus slowed, jerking Rebecca out of her memories. She looked out the window and saw she’d arrived at the stop a block from the Tumbleweed. She thanked the driver as she swung down. Walking the block blew the cobwebs of the past from her mind.

      Rebecca was in the kitchen, tying on her apron, when one realization became very clear. No, she couldn’t roll back time, but she could try to keep Lisa from messing up her life. “I’m going to contact Ryan Lane’s dad,” she muttered.

      “Uh-oh. Talking to yourself is a bad sign,” Darcy Blackburn said in a cheery voice from right behind Rebecca.

      Startled, Rebecca smacked her elbow on the wall. “Jeez, Darcy, don’t sneak up on me like that.”

      The lanky blonde shifted two plates of steaming meatloaf. “Honey, a six-foot woman in a size-ten shoe never sneaks anywhere. Are you okay?” she added. “You’ve been frowning since you walked in.”

      “It’s Lisa. She’s been goofing off, skipping study time to hang with a boy. A baseball player of all things.”

      “Haven’t we taught that girl anything?” Darcy rolled her eyes. “Well, you don’t complain about your ex so much. But Lisa’s heard me fighting with Kevin over child support more than once. I’m certainly not one to hold back how I feel about living two steps from welfare because I stupidly left high school to marry Mr. Wrong.”

      “True. Hey, you’d better deliver those plates before they go cold. Maybe we can catch a minute later to talk. I could use some advice before I dive into the next dreaded mother-daughter chat.”

      “Glad I have four boys. I expect I will go through the terrible teens, but I figure I’ll muddle through. Apparently it’s against the law to lock ’em in a closet until they gain some sense.”

      “Darcy!”

      “Just kidding,” she called and sped off to her customers.

      Sure, Darcy could joke. But just wait until one of her boys did something to break her heart. As Rebecca picked up meals from the cook and delivered them, she thought how vociferously Darcy insisted she’d never get married again. Rebecca hadn’t ruled out the possibility, but she never had time to meet anyone.

      Work kept her from focusing on her personal problems for the rest of her shift. The Tumbleweed’s proximity to the River Walk meant they had a steady stream of customers. The two friends never found time to chat. At ten-thirty, Rebecca balanced the till, then helped Darcy set up tables for the breakfast crowd.

      “I’d offer you a lift home,” Darcy said, “but my mom has the boys. I only use her in emergencies, and they’re too rambunctious for her to handle over a long evening.”

      “What happened to your new sitter? Lisa said she seemed great.”

      “Yeah, well, turned out she was pregnant. Her folks pressured her to go back to the jerk for the sake of the baby.” Darcy made a sour face. “Been there, done that. I told her all that got me was the twins. I predict she’ll learn that it takes more than a baby to save a bad marriage. Why is it so difficult to find a reliable sitter? Constant turnover is hard on my boys.”

      “Why not ask Lisa to fill in? That could solve my problem temporarily. If you make it clear she’s not to have friends over, maybe it would discourage this boyfriend thing.”

      “You think СКАЧАТЬ