For the first time in weeks we all have a meal together. The twins seem really happy to see me, and everyone is on their best behavior.Later, Ron drives us back to Dignityville. It’s silent in the car, as if no one can think of a safe topic to discuss. Not Ron’s business, not being homeless, not Mom’s garden . . .We stop outside Dignityville and start to get out of the car. As I slide across the seat toward the door, Ron extends his clenched hand toward me. He waits until my parents’ backs are turned and then opens his hand. A bunch of $20 bills tumble out. I’ll give them to Mom later.* * *At school on Monday when I come out of the kitchen with my free lunch, Talia’s nestled cozily at the table, surrounded by a bunch of her girlfriends. Over the weekend I texted and called a few times and always got her voice mail. So I backed off and gave her time to cool down. Obviously she’s still not ready to talk.There are plenty of other places to sit. As I wander through the cafeteria with my tray, various people wave.
