“Yay!” I pump a fist into the air.

“Hurray!” Morgan cheers, too.

“Rouff!” Diesel joins in.

But Mom doesn’t seem excited at all. “A couple bus routes a day? That won’t provide a living wage.”

“No. But there’s a nice signing bonus. And there will be charters. I’ll continue to work shifts in between at Western Tire. I can bring Luanne on my bus rides as long as I supply the car seat. Your sister will save on daycare.”

“That will be nice for Cathie.” Mom’s smile straightens.

“Oh, and I have plans. Once I have experience, I can apply for a full-time position driving a city bus. Or I can go for my airbrakes licence so I can drive a truck.”

“You are a good driver,” Mom admits.

“Yes, I am. Let’s raise our grape juice to a new chapter in our lives.”

“Our lives?” Mom’s eyebrows do a jumping jack.

Morgan and I quickly raise our glasses. “Cheers!” Morgan says.

“To a new life!” I yell. Or my old life back, complete with a dad and a dog.

The whole pack! “Rawf!”

Even Luanne wants to clink plastic. Or maybe the sound is more of a click. Her baby fingers clutch around her sippy cup and she reaches out her dimpled arm as far as she can.

We all meet it with our glasses and she giggles.

Only Mom hesitates. “I’m not sure how you think this will change things for us.”

“To start, I’ll be able to make support payments in full and on time,” Dad says. He clicks his glass with hers before she even raises it. Then he chugs his bubbly grape quickly and gives a long “Ahhh!”

She just looks at him, not drinking any.

“But I’d also like to put my family back together again,” Dad says.

That nursery rhyme suddenly comes to me: All the king’s horses and all the king’s men couldn’t put Humpty together again. Not even Dad’s egg salad.

“Just think. If we all live together with Cathie, we’ll be saving money on rent. You could start taking college courses like you wanted.”

Mom shakes her head. I’m not sure if she’s in shock or it’s a flat-out no. She stares at her glass for a while and then, finally, drinks.

Morgan wolfs down her sandwich. “This is great egg salad. What’s your secret, James?”

I wince when she calls Dad by his first name, even if she is trying to be nice.

“I finely chop the eggs and celery. Add a good squeeze of real lemon juice. And then I use the best mayonnaise possible. None of this low-fat stuff. Better to have quality than quantity.” Dad’s mouth is still motoring. Sputtering, stalling, like his Neon.

I finish eating my sandwich and lick my fingers. “The world could use more fat.” I smile at my mother.

She stares at me, blankly.

I take a carrot from the plate. Morgan pops a grape tomato into her mouth.

“This isn’t just about having money,” Mom finally tells my father.