“Glad Ellie found you,” says Dr. Hernandez. “She’s something special.”

“She really is,” Eddie says.

I watch the RV and wonder what Ellie is saying, and what Ruth is saying. When Ellie steps back outside, her forehead’s still wrinkled with concern.

“She’s … she’s pretty set on staying,” Ellie says. She points to a barbecue place just a little way down the street. “I told her we’d just go to that restaurant right there, and to text us if she needs anything. Does that sound okay?”

“Good plan,” Eddie says. “And we’ll bring back some food.”

Ellie smiles softly at Dr. Hernandez. “I’d have loved for you to meet Ruth and talk to her. She’s such a remarkable girl. I think you’d really like her.”

“Ah,” says Dr. Hernandez. “Another time, maybe.”

“Maybe you can give me some advice,” Ellie says.

In my head I vividly picture the easy afternoon this could be, Ruth smiling as she steps out of the RV to join us, all of us chatting and getting to know Ellie’s friend, worry-free as we joke and lick barbecue sauce from our fingers. The picture is so clear in my mind that it seems unfair and unjust that the image can’t develop into reality like film in a darkroom.

Eddie puts an arm around me. “At least you’ll get to know one of the remarkables,” he says.

“A true pleasure,” says Dr. Hernandez.

Dr. Hernandez goes to move her car, and Ellie leans in toward Eddie.

“I’ll keep talking to her,” Ellie says, looking back toward the RV. “And I’ve been texting her mom too. If it goes any more downhill, I think we should stop at a doctor’s office somewhere.”

Eddie nods.

For a moment I wonder about asking the doctor we have right here already, but I guess it doesn’t really work like that. Plus I’m still not sure if what Ruth needs right now is a Dr. Hernandez kind of doctor or something else. It’s good to remind myself that Ellie and Eddie are here too, and can handle and take care of things. That it’s not all on me.

And hey, Ellie running into someone so impor-tant from her past is pretty magical if you ask me. Maybe that’s a good sign of what’s to come.

We walk to the barbecue place a little ways from the gas station. It’s so hot outside that by the time we make it to the restaurant, I feel sweat dripping down the front of my chest and pooling behind my knees. The heat is almost a tangible thing, its own entity. The road waves and ripples like the whites of a frying egg. All of us are sweaty and red-faced when we open the restaurant door, but thankfully we’re greeted by a wash of chilled air. I can breathe again.