A Texas-Made Family. Roz Fox Denny

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 this kid will dump Lisa if she stops mooning over him at his baseball games? Wouldn’t surprise me. Men want all the attention focused on them.”

      “Well, Lisa needs college money. And she loves sitting for your boys.”

      “I’ll phone her when I get home. Do you think she’ll still be awake? And what about her shifts here?”

      “I’m sure Max will work around your schedule. Lisa plans to be an elementary school teacher. She loves doing creative stuff with your boys.”

      “So do I. Unfortunately I’m usually too tired. Everything falls on me since Kevin sailed off into the sunset with his most recent bimbo. Honestly, how can I expect the boys to grow up when their dad hasn’t? You haven’t heard the latest. She’s barely out of her teens, but she has boobs out to here.” Darcy cupped her hands away from her chest. She was still built like the runner she’d been when she first married Kevin. “Come let me out. It upsets me to talk about Kevin. He’ll never change.”

      Rebecca lingered at the door. “It’s not fair that you have to work two jobs to provide for his boys, and he gets to squander his money on a yacht to impress other women. Have you talked to your lawyer about upping his support?”

      “She tells me boats are intangible assets.” Darcy grimaced.

      “You mean if I sell my house and buy a boat my kids will qualify for college grants?”

      “Raising kids on a boat isn’t practical. And you do everything possible to give your kids a nice, normal life.”

      And that, Rebecca decided after Darcy left, was the bottom line—even if Lisa suddenly didn’t agree.

      Which she didn’t. When Rebecca wearily dragged herself in on the dot of midnight, Lisa was still angry.

      “It’s late and we’re both tired, kiddo. All I’m going to say is that I consider it important that we eat together as a family. You let us down today, not to mention blowing off family time to attend an athletic event I knew nothing about.”

      “I didn’t tell you,” Lisa said, slamming her pencil down on the kitchen table, “because I wanted to avoid this argument. It’s not Ryan’s fault you and Daddy had a horrid marriage. You are just so biased against men.”

      “I am not. Why would you say that?”

      “I wonder.” Lisa pursed her lips. “Do you think Jordan and I don’t hear you and Darcy bashing men? Well, mostly Darcy, but you don’t stop her. By the way, she phoned asking me to babysit. I’m sure you had her say I can’t invite Ryan to her house.”

      Rebecca’s casual shrug was the same as an admission. “You turned her down?”

      “No,