I put her down for a nap after her lunch devolved into a long string of tired cries and whines that the macaroni was “too slippy.” Sticky golden cheese was still clumped on her chin and in her curls. It wasn’t the most charming way to remember her, but it still makes me smile as the bus pulls onto the highway, pointed south.

“Uncalijah will see you soon,” I told her, kissing her forehead, the only part of her face that wasn’t caked with powdered cheese.

“Nooooo,” she said, her eyes already closing.

“Text me pictures,” I said to Frankie when I left. “I’m sorry I’m leaving her with you like this.”

“A nap will fix her right up,” Frankie said, hugging me tightly. “We’ll be there soon.”

“Bye, Ma.” I waved toward the back patio, where she was surrounded by moving boxes and rolls of packing tape.

“Be safe, Elijah. Call us when you get there,” she said without getting up. “And you tell that Ms. Jackson thank you, you hear me? Her taking you in for a few weeks is the nicest thing someone from Meridien has done for us in years.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Maybe it was going to be weird living with Ms. Jackson and Julian. Even if it was only for a few weeks. Who was I kidding? It was definitely going to be weird. But when Ma made the decision that we needed to get back to Meridien, there was no way I was going to start school again in Houston and then switch after three weeks. Ma got on the phone with Pastor Ernie, Figg, and Coach Marcus the same day she decided.

I was sitting in the living room the day Figg called her back.

“Really? Well… isn’t that something,” she said, a slight smile brightening her face.

A short pause.

“Well, you be sure and tell her thank you,” Ma said quietly.

A longer pause.

“I appreciate you both, Thomas. I’m sure Elijah will be thrilled. You’re right; they were friends for a long while.”

Friends? Did I ever have real friends in Meridien? I started to think about the things that happened there before we left the first time and—

“Please tell Pastor thank you, too.”

A twinge of sadness pulled at my chest, but I swallowed it down. I looked at my mother as she hung up the phone, some of the stress visibly falling from her shoulders.

“What am I going to be thrilled about?” I asked, setting down my book.

“Ms. Jackson has offered to take you in for a few weeks,” Ma said.

“Ms. Jackson? Julian’s grandmother?”

“Yes,” Ma said. “Isn’t that wonderful news?”