“We always have Sunday supper out here. After supper, the older folks gather in the living room to talk about old times or fall asleepfor a power nap. The young ones get out board games. And those in between take their kids home for a few hours,” Scarlett explained and motioned for us to follow her. “Supper is a time of visiting with friends and family, and after cleanup, everyone goes home. Y’all come on and I’ll introduce you to some folks.”
“I feel like I did when the first busload came into the Tumbleweed,” I whispered to Jackson when I looked over the room full of people.
“A little bewildered?” he asked.
“Yep, and I didn’t even have to remember all their names.”
“Hey, Jackson!” a short guy with graying hair yelled from the back of the room. “I’m sure glad that we got back to work yesterday. I was getting a bad case of cabin fever.”
“I think we all were,” Jackson said.
“How many of these folks work for you?” I asked.
“A lot—but they work for the company, not me,” he answered.
Scarlett made us acquainted with Grady’s folks, his sisters, and a few other people, then she grabbed my hand and led me over to the food tables. “Jackson, you can go talk shop with the guys. Carla is going to help me and a couple of other women serve tonight.”
For a brief moment, I thought about the church where Rosie grew up, but then I saw a man throw a diaper bag over his shoulder and escort his small son to the restroom at the back of the garage.
Rosie wouldn’t let Scarlett worship in a place like that,I assured myself.
Jackson let go of my hand and kissed me on the forehead. “Save me a little bit of Rosie’s cobbler.”
“I’ll do my best,” I promised, and turned to Scarlett. “You said this was a buffet. Don’t folks serve themselves?”
“Yes, but sometimes the older folks and the children need help taking their plates to the table, and if someone spills something, we are on duty. It’s a good time to meet folks,” she explained, and introduced Cynthia and Lola, our other two helpers.
“Pleased to meet you,” they said in unison.
“My pleasure,” I said. “I’m new to this, so y’all might have to guide me.”
“You were sitting behind me in church,” Cynthia said. “I’m married to one of the Mendoza cousins.”
“And I’m married to another one,” Lola said. “We are so glad that the Armstrong Company came to our area. My husband had been driving all the way to El Paso for his job. It’s nice to have him home an hour earlier in the evenings, and the pay is double.”
“That’s great.” I could almost feel roots growing right down through my feet, into the garage floor, and on into the ground.
“Hey!” Nancy said as she and Ada Lou came into the room. “We’re not too late, are we?”
Scarlett shook her head and took a bowl from each of them. She set the one with banana pudding on the dessert table and the one with salad with the side dishes. She tapped on one of the casserole dishes with a spoon, and the whole place went silent.
Mama Mendoza stood up from her place beside Rosie and said, “Tonight, Rosie will say the blessing, and then all y’all can line up and fix your plates.”
Rosie pushed back her chair and bowed her head as she got to her feet. “Father, thank you for this food, for the hands that prepared it, and for the fellowship we will enjoy. Amen.”
I heard one of the little blond-haired girls say, “I like it when Miz Rosie prays. She don’t talk a long time.”
“Amen,” I whispered under my breath.
“Are most of these people related to the Mendozas?” I asked Scarlett.
“Yes, we are, in some form or another. That tall redhead over there is my cousin’s wife, and the lady beside her is her mother. They aren’t blood kin, but they are what we callshirttail kin,” Lola answered.
As people came through the line, they told me their names, but there was no way I would remember all of them. Still, the whole scene reinforced my decision to give up poker and stay in the area. I wanted a family that was not only related by DNA, but some of those shirttail folks, too.
Frank marked you after all.The voice that I didn’t like was in my head.
Mama, where are you? I’d think that you would be happy that I’m going to settle down. So why don’t you tell me how happy you are rather than letting a different voice tell me that I’m like Frank and his ragtag family.
