Then miraculously the door of the store opens quickly, and our two little guys appear.

Devan and Willie greet us and kiss us. Hugs all around.

“What’s for supper, Mama?” Devan asks.

“That is not a respectful question,” says Sabryna. “Your supper is what Lucy and I put on your supper table.”

“Uh-oh,” says Willie with a quiet sadness in his voice. “I bet they’re making Lucky Pot supper.”

Every week or so Sabryna and I pool all—that’s right, all—our leftovers. She makes a big pot of rice, and we toss in the leftovers from both our kitchens. It can turn into something delicious and magical, or it can turn into something mysterious and only barely edible. When it’s not so tasty, Devan supplements it later with a plate of rice and beans, and Willie microwaves a Hot Pocket or two.

Sabryna closes the store as she promised, and soon she and I are standing at her stove and creating a gourmet masterpiece: curried oxtail, cubes of meatloaf, frozen peas, four Kraft Singles, half a large can of V8 vegetable juice, and—ta-da!—this morning’s remains of Willy’s Kellogg’s cornflakes.

“That’s just the crunchiness this dish needs,” Sabryna explains.

The results could go either way. Turns out the Lucky Pot supper tonight is neither a wild success nor a nauseating disaster. The curry flavor in the oxtail seems to dominate, and that’s good. The cornflakes never had a chance.

But of course much better than a plate of passable, edible-enough food is the fact that four very hungry people are sitting together having a beautiful time. Jokes and scowls and stories from our different days.

Finally, Sabryna and I exchange secret knowing glances. It’s time to tell both boys about the arrival of Val’s baby tomorrow. As is often the way with kids, it’s almost impossible to know how they’ll react.

Sabryna is calm and smiling as she tells them. “We are going to have a houseguest.” One of the many great things about Sabryna is that she can only smile if it’s a real smile. And this is a real smile, and it is a big smile.

Willie and Devan look at each other. Then Sabryna tells them the tale of the new baby. We have no sense of what the boys are thinking.

Then Devan speaks: “How long will this baby be living here?”

I don’t like the tone of “this baby.”

So I field the question: “A few weeks, a few months, maybe even longer.” No reaction.

Willie asks, “What’s the baby’s name?”

“I don’t think she’s absolutely fixed on a name. She’s thinking she may name the baby for a relative, like an aunt or a grandma.”

“So this baby is a girl?” asks Devan. His reaction sounds neither positive nor negative at the gender news.

“Can we give her a name?” Willie asks.