“Well, get on over here. I’ll catch you all up. And yes, you have a place to stay tonight.”

He listens more.

“I’m well aware you’re angry at him. As Carson’s newly minted grandfather and as someone who knows his bloodline a wee bit, I feel it’s my place to tell you he comes by his stubbornness honestly.”

“Hey!” I yell.

He ignores me. “And his selfishness, and his moodiness. Now, young lady, what part of this is on you?”

This I want to hear, but all I can do is watch and listen.

“Fair enough. Come on over and we’ll work things out. You have directions?”

She does, so they say good-bye. He hangs up and gives me an impish look, which is funny on an old guy. “All settled. She’s willing to consider forgiving you for being a jackass — her words — if you’re willing to consider forgiving her for being a janeass — my word.”

I laugh. I have liked a lot of people on this trip, but none of them so much as I like Turk right away.

While we wait for Aisha, we talk about what needs to happen next, and Turk is generous to a fault about it. No problem is too big. Everything has a solution. So when it’s all settled, I call my mom.

“So I’m coming home,” I say, by way of hello. Gomer sits up and licks my cheek. I wipe his slobber off my face. Gross.

“Good,” Mom says, her voice icy.

“Yeah,” I say. “Are you going to ask where I am or what I’m doing? Because it’s pretty big. I have big news.”

“Carson,” she says, “I just want you to come home. I really don’t care to hear any more stories. Your dad is doing very poorly today.”

“Tell him to hold on, please. Tell him I’m coming home and I have something for him. Tell him that exactly, okay?”

She exhales. “Just tell me when you’ll be here, please.”

“I’ll be back tomorrow evening. We’re flying in. As I said, we have a surprise. Okay?”

She hangs up on me.

I look at Turk. I don’t know what he sees, but he puts his arms around me.

“Well, that hurt,” I say.

He nods and nods. “Your mom is a tough one?”

“Yep.”

“I’ll work my Turk magic on her,” he says, and that makes me smile.

I call my dad, and my mom is right; he sounds rough. I keep it nice and short.

“I’m gonna be back tomorrow night.”

“Good,” he says. “Good.”

“I love you. Did you know that?”

“Wow,” he says. “That’s … nice, Carson.”

“I love you and I’m just sorry for everything that’s happened to you in your life.” I feel myself getting emotional, and Turk gives me a supportive nod.

“Thanks,” my dad says, sounding bewildered.

“When I come back tomorrow, I’m gonna have … some answers for you. It’s gonna be good. You’re gonna hear some things that you need to hear. It’s gonna be all right, okay?”

Long pause. “Okay.”

Nothing more.

“I’m scared,” he says.

“Don’t be scared. I’m done being scared. Just know I love you. You’re loved, Dad.”

“You’re freakin’ me out,” he says.

“I’m a little freaked out too. But good freaked out. Well. Yeah, good. Trust me. All will be revealed.”

And then I’m off the phone, and then everything hits me all at once, and I’m exhausted. I feel like I’ve climbed a mountain. Turk sets up the guest room, puts me to bed, and closes the door. Within seconds I’m deeply asleep.

The craziest thing happens while I’m sleeping. I open my eyes and focus on the ceiling, and I swear I see my grandfather’s face there. Hovering over me. Staring down at me. Calm, serene. Just there.

I don’t freak out. I don’t yell out to see if Turk can come in and see what I see. I just look. The more I look, the more I’m sure of it, that it’s the outline of his face. Once in a while, it’s like the face of the Burger King dude, and then it morphs back to my grandfather.

I think about mirages. I realize I don’t know. I want it to be him.

So it is him. Like Laurelei said. It’s true for me.

We smile at each other, me and my grandfather. And I decide that I will never share this with anyone. This secret I’ll carry with me the rest of my life.

When Grandpa fades, I close my eyes and sleep some more, and it’s a calm sleep. When I wake up, there are voices in the other room, amiable voices. I hear Aisha laughing, and then Turk laughing, and I wrap the blanket around me and feel this content feeling in my chest. It’s how I used to feel on days when I pretended to be sick and stayed home from school, and my grandparents would be in the living room and I’d be all cozy in bed. I would stare at a spot above the window, just stare at it, until the room became distorted and the window would lose all proportion and the spot would suddenly be so big, and me so small. I’d feel a buzz in my head as I breathed and stared, and I felt — safe. There was safety in being small. I knew in those moments it was all going to be okay, and it was delicious, that strange, distorted little place of my own, with the comfort of my grandparents just beyond the door.

I savor it for a while, and when I’m ready, I get up and walk out to the living room.

Aisha is sitting in my spot on the couch, sprawled out with her arms above her head and her feet on the floor. Gomer is lying on her stomach. When she sees me, she shoos Gomer away and looks at the floor in front of her. She says, “Hey.”

“Hey.”

“Hey,” she says again, creating an imbalance of heys, two against one.

I study the floor too.

“Oh my God,” Turk says. “Do you have any idea how over the bickering children thing I am? I’ve had you both here for, what, three minutes? No wonder I didn’t have any kids. Exhausting.”

I steal a glance at Aisha just in time to see her stealing one at me.

Turk points to the door. “Out,” he says. “And no, I’m not abandoning you, because heaven knows there are enough abandonment issues here to sink the Titanic. You’re going out into the world to say what you need to say to each other. And then you’re coming back here, and I’m making dinner, and we’ll eat it like one big happy family, which we will be, because you’ll have your shit together. Understood? Understood.”

We tentatively walk toward the door.

“Go, go,” he says, waving his hand. “I’ll be eagerly awaiting the new and improved and made-up Carson and Aisha. God, do I hate conflict.”

I walk down the stairs behind her, a little bewildered by whatever that was. It’s funny getting to know a grandfather when you’re already seventeen. It’s like you should already know his quirks, but you just don’t.

“You okay?” she asks when we’re at the bottom of the stairs. She sits down, so I do too.

“I guess so,” I say, looking down at the ground. “I’m exhausted thinking about it, but I’m glad I know. We’re flying home —”

“He told me,” Aisha says.

“I’m well aware that I’m an asshole. The volleyball game was not my finest hour. I’m sorry.”

She shrugs. “Me too. And just so you know, Brianna’s over. She wanted a one-time thing. So I guess I probably overreacted about how exciting it all was.”

“I’m sorry,” I say, but in truth I feel relieved. Does that make me a bad person?

“I do that again and again. I get all excited about someone new, and it’s too much, too soon. I did it with Kayla and I did it again here.”

I don’t have a whole lot of relationship wisdom to share, so again I just say, “Sorry.”

“I’ve never been looked at like that before,” she says.

I cock my head at her. “You’re looked at everywhere you go, actually.”

“Maybe. But this was different. It was, like, people liked what they saw, instead of me just standing out as different. I loved it.”

I take a look at my friend, my beautiful friend. She is even better on the inside than the outside, and people don’t know that. They don’t see it. I wish people could see what I see. “I get that,” I say.

“I’m not your sidekick,” Aisha blurts out.

“What?”

She turns toward me. “All this trip, it’s like, Carson’s stuff. We’re in my car, but this is Carson’s journey. To find your grandfather. Did it ever occur to you, even once, that I might be doing this for me too?”