“What do you want for Christmas, kid?” Marva Jo asked.

As if by rote, Liz grinned and said, “A house with no wheels and a sexy cowboy.”

“Your Uncle Haskell called a couple of weeks ago. Poppa is ailing and needs full-time help these days. Tressa and I’ve been talkin’ about one of us staying with him for the first half of the run next year, and then switching off and the second one staying with him the last half. But Haskell drove out to visit him last week and came up with another idea. He says that he’s used to living in one place and is ready to retire. He’s already sold off most of his ranch. We talked about it, and Poppa likes the idea of having his son nearby. Haskell bought one of those prefab houses and had it moved on the land. It’s built to be wheelchair accessible so if Poppa gets to where he can’t get around or take care of himself with Haskell’s help, then he can live there too. Now here’s the rest of the story. The part that I don’t like but Haskell and Poppa both say is the right thing.” Marva Jo had looked like she’d just come from a funeral, or worse yet was about to go to one.

Liz would never forget the pain on her mother’s face. “Haskell is offering for you to move into his house on the last twenty acres of his ranch. If you like it, come spring he’ll put the whole thing over in your name. We’ll be in Bowie the last week in November just like always, so I will see you then. That’s a month from now and by then I hope you have changed your mind about living in a real house. So, it’s up to you, kid. You really want a house with no wheels, or has it been a big joke between us all these years?”

Liz had whispered, “Yes, Mama, I want it.”

“Then pack your bags, girl. You’re leavin’ in the morning. If you decide you want to come back to the carnival, you’re always welcome, and the people next door to Haskell’s have already said they are interested in buying the acres and the house. Me, I hope that you hate the damn place in a week or even a day. I don’t want you to go, but Haskell and Poppa are right. You are twenty-five. It’s time for you to make your decision about being a carnie forever or quitting the business.”

“And so here I am,” Liz said to herself aloud as she poured the soup into a bowl. “I guess Raylen is the one Mama was talkin’ about buying my property. Well, ain’t that a mess! I’ve wanted to see his pretty blue eyes again for eleven years, and he just wants my house and land. I got what I wanted, but he doesn’t get my house or my land, no matter what he offers me.”