She saw every day what an active mother Diane was in Josh’s life, talking regularly to and about him, helping him with school and society, allowing him to be a child and to become an adult, and this reminded Jackie to visit her own mother. Diane also often literally reminded her.

“We should stop by and visit Lucinda,” Diane would say after work.

Today all of them were at Lucinda’s house for a barbecue. There was everything you needed for a barbecue: a small plastic bucket full of mud. Everything.

“Happy birthday,” Diane said to Jackie. “Sounds like someone has decided to finally grow older. How old are you now?”

“Twenty-one. I skipped twenty. Not everyone has to turn twenty. Don’t know when I’ll turn twenty-two. Maybe in a few years, when I’m ready. Is Troy coming?”

The Troys had settled in the barista district. It turned out that he was an excellent barista, just as he had been excellent at everything else he had done. Carlos had taken to issuing each Troy a pink flamingo, which had the double effect of removing the flamingos from Night Vale for good and taking each Troy out of his current reality and into a reality of his own, where he could be a helpful and competent individual, rather than a helpful and competent horde. It was a highly scientific solution, and Cecil would not stop talking on the radio about how brilliant it was that Carlos had thought of it. “Nothing is more attractive that someone who is good at their job,” Cecil often said.

“Josh invited him, but honestly I think even he doesn’t really want his father to come. Speaking of which, how about you and Troy?”

“There is no me and Troy,” said Jackie. “It’s too late for that. Besides. I already have a family.”

She took her mother’s arm. Lucinda laughed and patted her hand.

“That’s nice of you, dear, but I don’t mind if you want to spend a little time with Troy. Not for him—I could care less about him—but you might get something out of it.”

“Have you remembered any of your childhood?” asked Diane.

Lucinda let go of her daughter’s hand.

“No,” said Jackie. “We’re working on it, but might be it’s gone for good.”

“Even if we don’t have the then, dear, we have the now,” her mother said, biting into one of the wax avocados, as she always did when trying to process her feelings.

“You really should stop eating those, Mom,” Jackie said. “They’re not real.”

“‘Should’ and ‘will’ are different words,” said Lucinda, taking a second big bite.

Jackie shook her head and went out the sliding glass door into the backyard. Josh came barreling into her.

“Jackie!”

He was small, and round, with broad, feathered wings and wide green eyes.

“Looking good,” said Jackie. “Have you ever tried flying with those?”