A few weeks later, Mark and Lillian asked me if I wanted to move into Isaac’s old room. Since I was the oldest, it made sense that I would be the one to move. It would give me more privacy, and Lillian would get to have the main part of the house for herself and her family, so I agreed. Mark helped me move my limited belongings into the space. At first it was weird to be there, but I soon found it to be a reprieve from the noise and activity in the house. I still had to traipse back and forth to the bathroom, which was even farther now, but that wasn’t a problem.
To get from my new room to the house, I had to walk through the laundry room, then the garage, then the business office space, which led to the kitchen. Each time I made this trek, I would pause before opening the door that led from the garage to the office in order to stretch my face muscles into a contrived smile, much wider than my normal smile. Once that was done, my face would then relax into a pleasant-looking expression. Since I never knew from day to day —sometimes even hour to hour —what frame of mind Lillian would be in, I found that this preparation kept her questions to a minimum.
Masking my true feelings, unless they were positive, became a way of life for me. Positivity became my self-preservation as I placated my sister.
It seemed to me that Lillian couldn’t help herself. She faced emotional issues, no doubt triggered by the fact that she was born into a family that lacked the guidance and discipline, love and protection that a monogamous marriage would have provided. Many of us left in the wake of Ervil LeBaron’s influence suffered emotional distress as a result. Given our rough upbringing, Lillian wouldn’t entertain the thought of anyone having a bad day.
On many occasions Lillian struggled to hold it together, but she managed, with Mark’s help. He provided her with steady strength. To Lillian, life away from the choke hold of the cult needed to be appreciated and lived to the fullest. Sometimes her incredibly high standards had a negative effect on those around her, but she was motivated by love. She wanted those she cared for to rise to her perfectionistic ideal for their own good.
About a month after I moved into the garage bedroom, I heard a knock on my door late one Saturday night. When I opened the door, Mark was standing there, his face serious and weary.
“Would you be able to help me get the children ready for church in the morning?”
“Of course. But what’s wrong?”
He cleared his throat and let his gaze drop to the floor. “Lillian and I got into a fight about . . . well, that’s not important. Anyway, she left.”
“What?” My heart ached for the two of them, but I couldn’t help but wonder what a separation between them might mean for my future. “Of course I’ll help.”
“She checked into a hotel, hopefully just for the night.” His breath caught in his throat, and he gave another little cough. “I’m hoping this will all blow over —that it’s nothing permanent.”
“I hope so too.”
He gave me a weak smile and said good night.
Lillian had not come home by morning, so I hurriedly dressed and fed the children before church. Though I didn’t relish the circumstances, I got some satisfaction from knowing that Mark was aware he could count on me to be dependable and capable.
Thank goodness, Mark and Lillian worked out their differences. She came back to the house that afternoon.
One of my regular responsibilities was doing the grocery shopping at Weingarten’s grocery store across the two-lane street. The manager and checkout clerks came to know me by name, and when I turned sixteen, the manager offered me a job. I begged Mark and Lillian to let me work there. I desperately wanted to have the experience of a normal job, like several of my friends had. Despite my pleading, they wouldn’t even consider it. I rarely expressed my displeasure with any of their decisions, including this one, but it was a severe disappointment for me. Clearly, they needed me to help their household and business run smoothly.
Each morning, I was instrumental in getting Lillian and Mark’s kids ready for school. After school, I helped with whatever chores needed doing, or I worked for the appliance business —whatever they told me to do. I tried my best to be helpful, regardless of the task. I scrubbed the old tile floor in the kitchen, using a bristle brush to remove dirt and grime from the grout one line at a time. I ironed the kids’ school uniforms after they’d been washed and dried. As much as I detested pressing crisp creases in the girls’ pleated skirts, there was no getting around it.
Each evening, I made and packed sack lunches for the kids who went to school. Initially, when Pablo, Marilyn, and Delia were living with us, I was making a lot of sandwiches. Marilyn, Delia, and I were on the volleyball team, and we had to show up for practice by seven o’clock each morning. One night I forgot to make lunches ahead of time, so the next morning I grabbed a loaf of bread, a jar of peanut butter, a jar of jelly, and a knife, and took everything with me to school. At lunchtime, I stood at one of the cafeteria tables and made sandwiches for everyone in our family. From that embarrassing experience, I learned my lesson and never forgot to make lunches after that.
Lillian enrolled me in a driver’s education class when I was fifteen, agreeing to pay my tuition if I would chauffeur the kids around for them once I got my license. I passed the class easily, and when I turned sixteen I passed my driver’s test easily too. The family celebrated my accomplishment at dinner.
“Anna, we’re very proud of you.” Mark raised his water glass in a mock toast. He glanced at Lillian, who smiled and nodded her head in agreement. He continued, “So proud that we want to propose a deal.”
“What kind of deal?” I knew better than to let my excitement get the better of me.
“Since you’ll be taking the kids to and from school and to their after-school activities, we’ll pay for gas and insurance, and you may drive the station wagon any time you want,” Lillian said.
I swallowed hard to choke back tears of joy. No one had ever given me such consideration in my life. Mark and Lillian were all but giving me the station wagon. More than ever before, I realized that they loved me, appreciated my efforts, and considered me a part of their family.
“I don’t know what to say. Thank you so much!” Having a car meant I could drive myself to the youth activities at church. I craved that time with my friends, that time of worship and learning. To have the freedom to get myself there and back overwhelmed me. I stood and moved around the table to hug Lillian. I was so happy!
Suddenly it dawned on me why they had recently purchased a new Cadillac Seville for themselves. I smiled at the forethought of their win-win proposal.