“It’s kind of a little tradition,” I explain. “We make different kinds of stir-fry for dinner on Friday nights.” Except, now that I think of it, we haven’t really done that in a while. I guess Stir-Fridays are another thing—like French toast and mosaics—that has fallen to the wayside lately.

“And so we call them Stir-Fridays,” I finish.

Mama adds, “We like our puns in this house.”

“We’re punny,” Noah mumbles, sounding like he’s half-asleep.

Which makes Macy and Gramps and Mama laugh out loud.

“Hey, you stole that from me!” I shout at Noah. Maybe I wouldn’t mention his twenty-dollar bribe money, but I wasn’t about to let him take credit for my joke.

“Did not!” he shouts back.

“You did too. I made that up so long ago, and you said it was stupid.”

He sits up now, and glares at me from the couch. “Whatever.”

“Now, Macy,” Mama says, talking over us. “Since you’re the only child who is not currently giving me a headache, you get to help me decide what to put in the stir-fry. Sound all right?”

Macy nods, and her face can barely contain her smile.

Mama leads her toward the kitchen, and Gramps goes to bring another box to his room, leaving Noah and me alone.

“Toddler,” he mutters, and then flops back down on the couch.

“You’re the one taking a nap!” Not my best comeback, but he pretends like I didn’t say anything anyway.

I think of Dewey, alone outside. All I want to do is go out to the shed to be with her. But as soon as I have that thought, I realize that we’re telling each other the same exact thing: You’re not alone.

“Stir-Friday on a Saturday,” Mom says as we all sit down at the table together. “I like it—and it’s fitting with the way this week has gone, that’s for sure.”

“What does that mean?” Gramps says. I can tell what he’s thinking: that him being here this week is what made it so tough. Maybe I would think that too, if I hadn’t overheard the pamphlet conversation the other night. If I didn’t know that underneath Mom’s solid shell she’s all soft and worried on the inside.

“Nothing, Dad,” Mom responds. “Just that today ended up being kind of like a Friday for me, since I was called in to work.”

“Oh,” Gramps says, and then brings a forkful of rice and tofu to his mouth.

Mom and Mama share one of their secret-not-so-secret looks.

Mama clears her throat and says, “Well, tonight’s Stir-Friday creation was curated by Macy: we have tofu and carrots and zucchini and broccoli, in a secret sauce we made together.”

“It’s delicious,” Mom says. “And healthy—it’s perfect.”

“Very good,” Gramps agrees.