like she always does.

He left me,

Momma said,

because I had

two kids.

Then she cried right out loud.

And I couldn’t help it.

I cried

with her.

Lizzie patting my shoulder.

Shhh,

Lizzie said.

Shhh.

You were his kids

too,

Momma said.

I cried along with her,

till she fell asleep, quiet, on the sofa

and Lizzie would say,

Hope, it’s time for bed.

8.

Once

after Daddy left

on his bike

and didn’t come back

Miss Freeman

waddled her way across

the street and

over to our place

with a big platter of fried catfish

and hush puppies and

a dish of potatoes and

a salad.

For you, Ms. Chapman,

she said.

I heared what happened

and I thought

you could use some good

Southern cooking.

Momma cried in Miss Freeman’s arms

and me and Lizzie

ate all the hush puppies before

Momma had dried her

eyes.

Looks like you girls

need some more of them

things,

Miss Freeman said.

And she brought us a whole

bowlful more.

9.

Miss Freeman

taught me

and Lizzie to play

rummy

and Chinese checkers

and let us watch

Wheel of Fortune

at her place

on the nights

Momma worked.

And when Momma

tried to pay her,

Miss Freeman said,

Ms. Chapman, I love these girls

like they was my own.

She laid a heavy hand

on my head

and I felt the pressure

of that hand

long after I had gone to bed.

10.

Lizzie was my job.

And I was hers.

It is your job,

Momma said

to us years ago

when me and Liz

came home from school

one day.

(Almost six

and

seven

years old.)

We were late,

late coming home from

the bus.

Playing in the

huge puddle of

mud and

water

there

in the dirt road.

Didn’t notice the time passing.

Till Miss Freeman—

old as the sun—

hollered out,

You girls know

what time it is?

Your momma is gonna be worried sick

about you two

playing in the road.

We move when we

see cars,

Lizzie said.

She had mud all over,

splashed on her

face even.

I was soaked through too.

I know it,

Miss Freeman said.

Git on home.

We got.

Momma, though,

she was even later

coming in that night,

not waiting for us

at all.

Lizzie and me

we changed our clothes,

dried the dirty places

off our legs

on a towel,

and waited.

We watched us some TV,

turned up real loud,

and waited

some more on the sofa.

And when the sun was set

coloring the sky a thin

line of hibiscus red,

Momma pulled into the

drive.

Both me and Liz,

we looked at each other,

and I felt so glad that Momma had made it home.

I let out a breath

I’d been holding all afternoon.

Now we could

eat

and not be afraid

or worried

that she

might leave

like Daddy did.

Might not come back

at all.

You make any dinner?

Momma asked Lizzie