“Tell me, Colin, what brings you down here?” Liza used her best curious voice. In truth, she was in over her head writing the proposal for WIC, and Colin’s city council background had actually proved helpful. Now she owed him, and he planned to milk it dry.

“Oh, you know I like to come back occasionally to the place that raised me. Your own mother used to pack my lunch every morning. It’s good to see where you never want to go back. It makes you strive to do so much better.”

“So glad we could be a negative example for you, Colin,” Liza quipped. “I consulted Colin because I was drafting a plan to get more affordable housing in our city. I thank you for that, Colin.”

“Liza, anytime, anywhere, whatever you need, I’m there for you. You know, folks out there in radioland, I recently bailed her younger brother out of jail. If it was anyone else, I would have hung up the phone and said don’t call me back. But when Bev and her daughters need something, I come running.”

“And we can’t thank you enough. Literally. All right, folks, this is your chance to ask Longbourne Gardens’ own golden boy questions about success and failures. Hit us up!”

“Thank you, Liza. And congratulations on the station expanding your show to two hours.”

“Yeah, I have to find out who this mysterious donor is when I get next week’s commercial list.” Liza pressed the kissing-sound button. “There’s a big juicy kiss for you, Mystery Moneybags.”

“Okay, Liza, I will be around y’all’s way for that homemade buttermilk pie your mom loves to make for me.” He winked.

“Mom, you need to buy a buttermilk pie,” Liza said as she jimmied the key out of the lock.

“You look like hell,” Bev commented.

“I haven’t been sleeping well.” Honestly, the nap pod was the best sleep she had gotten in weeks, but that knowledge did not help her sleep better. Would she ever be that warm again?

“Mom. Buttermilk pie. You have, like, two days to buy it,” Liza said.

“Oh, Colin’s coming by?” Bev perked up.

Everyone in earshot groaned. Granny shook her head.

“Yes, he’s coming for his annual poverty tour,” Liza said. “It’s my fault. I had one question.”

“You all need to hush. That boy made something of himself because of me. He listened to me when none of you did and now look at him.” Bev straightened her shoulders.

“Mom, have you told him why you were always across the hallway making sandwiches for him when his mother wasn’t there?” Liza asked.

“Mr. Gruthers was a friend. He was a shoulder to cry on when Deya’s father up and left us.” LeDeya’s father didn’t “up and leave.” He simply reunited with his wife.

“Yeah, but Mrs. Gruthers never spoke to you again,” Janae said.