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can come home.”
    â€œUgh, sorry to hear that.”
    â€œThanks,” she replies. “But there is at least a little good news.”
    â€œWhat’s that?”
    Mom pulls her hair around to her nose and inhales. “Smells like today’s special entrée is our favorite: fried chicken and mashed potatoes!”
    It isn’t until we take our seats in the booth that Mom eyes Lolly’s empty seat next to me. “She with Jake?” When I nod, she shakes her head. “Be honest with me, Grace. Do you like him?” This time I shake my head and she nods. “I always get the feeling that he’s trying to put something over on me, which is not exactly the most reassuring feeling for the mother of a teenage daughter. Thank goodness you’re not dating too.”
    â€œYeah,” I say, making a face, “thank goodness.”
    The waitress walks over with menus and smiles when she sees Mom. “Hey, Sheryl,” she says, “good to see you!”
    â€œTrina, hi.” Mom smiles back. “I didn’t realize you’d come back from maternity yet.”
    â€œWell,” she says, leaning in, “I hadn’t planned to be back so soon, but Tim lost his job and I figured if I was going to be spending my whole day doing feedings anyway, I might as well do it in a place where I’d get paid for it.”
    Mom nods. “I hear you. Believe me, I know what the juggling act you’re doing is like. I remember all too well when I had to manage kids, job, home, and an unemployed husband who needed coddling yet didn’t quite get that being out of work didn’t mean he was on vacation from household responsibilities too.” Mom blinks and looks back up at Trina. “But I’m sure Tim’s not like that,” she adds, as if apologizing for the comparison to my dad. “And I’ll make sure they don’t work you too hard here.”
    Trina exhales and shakes her head back and forth. “God bless ya, Sheryl.”
    â€œLeave God out of this,” Mom replies, smiling. “This is between you and me.”
    Trina laughs. “Okay, well then, I’ll just leave these for you ladies,” she says, extending menus to us.
    Mom waves her off. “Don’t need them. You know what you want, Grace?”
    â€œYep.”
    Trina takes out her pen and pad. “Let me just tell you about today’s special then.” I eye Mom and we share a smile. “Let’s see.” Trina flips through her pad for the special of the day cheat-sheet. “Today we’ve got the chef’s Southern specialty: fried chicken, buttermilk mashed potatoes, and creamed corn.”
    â€œTwo of those.” Mom nods with a smile. “Thanks.”

    When I get home after dinner, I head for my room and my eyes go right to my book bag that still contains Mr. Sands’s envelope. I kneel again at the foot of my bed.
    â€œHi, I’m sure you didn’t forget about my request,” I say, my eyes flicking to the ceiling, “but I thought I’d check back in because Mr. Sands doesn’t seem to be getting better yet. And I just wanted to remind you that time is sort of ‘of the essence’ here . . .”
    The noise of a car pulling into the driveway below my window distracts me, and I wonder if Lolly will get in trouble later. I also wonder if I’d ditch out on dinner to eat with my boyfriend. Not that it’s an issue . . .
    I look back to the ceiling and refocus. “Anyway, you know my mom doesn’t really buy into this, but I really, really want to believe you’re going to help Mr. Sands. I can’t help him like he wants me to, but you, you could fix it so he wouldn’t even have to think about that . . . And then I wouldn’t have to think about it either . . . So just please make him well again, okay? Please.” I close my eyes as if trying to seal up the wish and send it out to the