He grinned. Beef was rarely on the menu. It was mostly chicken, in a dish to go over rice, or canned salmon made into croquettes. Mashed potatoes and biscuits went with most evening meals. In the morning they ate cereal, because cornflakes lasted for several days. On the weekends, she made bacon and eggs and biscuits for breakfast. It was a frugal lifestyle.

“Oh, I wish we had a cake,” she sighed, picking at her mashed potatoes.

“You could make us one.”

“Dream on,” she said sadly, thinking of the expense that even a pound cake added to the budget.

“Maybe we could get just a slice each at the grocery store,” he suggested. “That’s not as expensive as a whole cake.”

She smiled at him warmly. “We can get two slices of cake when they send the Batmobile home and it’s safely stored in our Batcave.”

He made a face.

“It’s ours,” she emphasized. “I’m sure of it. Any day now, some smarmy lawyer’s going to come to the door and say they’re bringing it right over.”

“When dogs fly,” he agreed.

“I’m sorry we’re poor,” she said gently. “I wish I had more education, so I could get a better job.”

He went around the table and hugged her tight. “I’d rather have my sister than a Batmobile,” he said huskily. “You’re so good to me, sis. I don’t care if we’re poor. We got each other.”

She bit her lip and hugged him back, tears threatening. “Yes, Tad. We’ve got each other.”

He went back to his place and finished his supper. “Sis, what are we going to do when Morris gets out?” he wondered aloud.

Her heart jumped. The thought terrified her and she didn’t dare show it. “We’ll cross that flaming lava bed when we have to.”

“It’s his house, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” she said. “Well, until they either find Granddaddy or prove that he’s...dead. In which case, I’d inherit his half of the house. But that would take a lot of time.” Her eyes saddened. “Tad, I’ve been thinking about the military. It’s a good job, with great benefits. We’d get to travel...”

“No!”

He looked horrified. She stared at him blankly.

“All my buddies live here,” he said, his face tragic. “We have this house, where we both grew up. Cal Hollister is close by if we get in trouble and need help.” He sighed. “Our family settled here before the fight at the Alamo. You told me that. We can’t give that up to go away to some foreign place. Please, Clancey,” he added, his eyes huge in his face.

Her eyes narrowed. “That isn’t why you don’t want to go,” she said suspiciously.