I reach up and touch the tumor on my head. It’s on the left side, facing out my window and away from you. It feels tough, like a tree knot. I can feel it against my skull, and I imagine that I can feel it growing into me, lodging its roots, like an acorn pushing into the earth. I wonder when it first began, when that first cell appeared that would send everything else into blooming chaos. Was it there fifty-eight years ago when I was born? Forty years ago when your father was born? Eleven years ago when you were born? What strange things we carry unknown inside of us.

“Can I be honest with you, Pearl?” I ask.

You roll up your window so you can hear me better. The quiet that rushes in is almost too much, almost enough to make me ask you to put the window back down again so I can drown my senses in that peaceful roar.

“You’re in love with Ms. Pena,” you say in a very solemn voice.

“What?”

“You’re in love with Ms. Pena. It’s okay. I’m okay with it.”

I am caught completely off guard. That was the last thing I expected you to say. “Well, for one, no, I’m not in love with Ms. Pena. And two, if I was, why would we be leaving?”

Your face twists in thought, so determined to connect the dots. “I’ve been thinking about this.”

“I can tell.”

“I think, well, first of all, you are in love with Ms. Pena, and everyone can tell. You’re worse than Stevie in my class who likes Monica. It’s so obvious, Grampy. But maybe you’re leaving because you’re still in love with Grandma, or you’re afraid Ms. Pena won’t love you back, or you don’t think I like Ms. Pena—even though I do—and so we’re leaving because you can’t bear to be around her when you’re so in love.”

I blink once, twice, three times. I stare at the road in front of us. I start laughing and can’t stop. The laughter comes up out of me like an eruption. Soon I’m laughing so hard I’m crying, gasping for breath, struggling to drive. You sit there smiling at me like the Cheshire cat. Finally, a full minute later, I catch my breath. That felt good, invigorating.

I smile and sigh and glance over at you. “You’ve clearly put a lot of thought into this.”

“Why else would we leave so soon?” you ask, and I see what I have done to you with this knee-jerk reaction, this sweeping you out of everything you know and love. And I am so, so sorry.

“Pearl, that’s what I wanted to explain to you. I’m sorry about this. I need to get away for a little bit. You know? It doesn’t have anything to do with Ms. Pena . . . who I think is a beautiful woman. I’m simply feeling overwhelmed by some things and need to get out of our house. And I truly would love for you to see the place where I grew up.” I pause. “Can you forgive me for this?”