I reach over and give her arm a squeeze. “You’re doing fine.” As she pulls into the Taco Bell parking lot, I add, “When you see how much hot sauce I use, you might reconsider how healthy you think I am.”

She laughs as she carefully pulls into a space. “Let’s do Humphrey proud.”

Inside, we order various burritos and tacos and have them put jalapeños on everything. Sam insists on treating because it’s my birthday tomorrow. She messages her mother while she waits for the food, and I claim a table and gather a heaping assortment of sauces, recalling with guilty humor that ten billion packets were recently appropriated on my behalf.

When Sam sits down with the food, she asks, “Does your family have plans for your birthday?”

“Jonah’s coming home tomorrow, so we’re going to have a birthday lunch. My mom’s making lasagna, which is one of Jonah’s favorites.” I smile just thinking about it. He’s going to be so happy about lasagna.

“Are you excited about Jonah coming home?” she asks, unwrapping a burrito.

I nod. “I’m excited and nervous. I’m really happy he’ll be here for my birthday, but I have no idea what this change in his routine will do. Sometimes when he doesn’t want to leave, he’ll plop down on the floor or the ground, and there is no getting him up until he decides to get back up.”

“I admire that,” Sam says.

I almost spew Dr Pepper all over the table.

She smiles. “I’m serious. It shows character to stand up for what you want. Or sit down.”

I wipe my mouth as I try to stop laughing. “You’re my favorite,” I tell her.

As we eat, we pile all the empties into a small mountain on the tray. “Humphrey would be impressed,” I say, adding a Diablo sauce packet to the pile.

“It is rather extreme,” Sam says, squeezing more hot sauce into her burrito. “This is not how Taco Belling with my mother goes at all. She wipes off and stacks her empties. This random pile of drippy packets would make her brain explode.” Her brow furrows as she looks at the packets, then she glances up at me and asks in a small voice, “What if that happens to me?”

My heart goes out to her. That kind of ever-present threat must be a heavy burden to carry. And I don’t know what to say — I can’t assure her that it won’t happen to her.

“You’d watch for it,” I say tentatively. “And if something like that started manifesting, you’d get whatever treatment and help you needed to be as healthy as you can be. You’d be okay.”

She looks dubious. “You think so?”

I nod. “I really do, Sam. You’re incredibly strong and brave.”