“Sure. So this fifth-grader timidly raises her hand. But of course, no one’s paying attention. She’s small, and her voice is small, and all the grown-ups are emotional and panicked and basically having an existential crisis. The mayor is crying about the loss to the town, the engineers that they’ll have to destroy everything they built, the trucking company about losing a truck. So the little girl talks louder, and eventually, goes right up to the head of the trucking company whose truck is wedged in the tunnel.” Meredith winked. “I mean, it’s really wedged in there, and we’re only talking a difference of six inches here. Maybe seven? And that truck could get loose.”

“Oh my God, only you could make this story sexual.” I rolled my eyes.

“Symbolic, not sexual. Anyway,” she exaggerated. “So the little girl gathers her courage and her loudest voice and marches up to the people in charge. The ones who are the actual decision makers. And she says ‘Excusez-moi?’ She’s French. Like Dauphine. This is a French town. Did I tell you that?”

“Meredith.”

“So she says, ‘Excusez-moi? But why don’t you just let the air out of the tires?’ Everyone grows quiet and the mayor laughs and says, ‘Yeah, we tried that.’ And he looks to the engineers who look to the trucking company, who, in turn, look at the driver of the truck. The driver shakes his head a bit sheepishly. Actually, no one has tried that, it seems. So they all frown at the child. I mean, it’s a little girl offering an opinion, you know? And all these important blustery men aren’t used to that. I mean, Lord, give me the confidence of a mediocre white man, amirite? But they’re desperate, so they try it. And lo, wouldn’t you know?”

“It works.”

Meredith nodded. “It works. They tow the truck free and everyone celebrates, and everyone loves everyone, and the mayor, let’s call him Javier Rascale, falls in love with the mother. She’s called Mosie. And the little girl, her name is—”

“I get it.”

“Right, well, and everyone lives happily ever after.” Meredith frowned. “Well, mostly everyone. The engineers, of course, go home and realize they’re not actually that smart, and they all get super depressed. But everyone else is happy.”

I pursed my lips, fighting a smile.

“The point is,” Meredith said. “The grown-ups are making this complicated. And really it’s quite simple.”

Letting out a long sigh, I let my head fall back to the headboard to stare at the nineteenth century carved molding. “How does the little girl get the mayor to listen to reason?”

“I don’t know.”

“This was super helpful,” I deadpanned. “Thank you.”

She squeezed my hand. “You’re welcome.”

But Meredith had made me sort-of smile, and that was something.