I pack up the tent slowly, stalling. I keep looking at my phone, praying for a call back from that shelter in Elk Grove. Nothing.
We drive for a while. I turn on the radio, let them sing along to silly songs. I laugh when Theo makes up words, even though my heart’s thudding in my chest like it knows something I don’t.
At a gas station, I pull over to let them use the restroom. I refill our water bottles. I buy three bananas and a pack of crackers with the last five-dollar bill in my wallet.
While they sit on the curb, eating and giggling, I step behind the building and make another call. I tell the woman on the other end we’re still looking. Still hoping.
This time, she pauses.
“How many kids?” she asks.
“Three,” I say. “All boys. Nine, seven, and four.”
Another pause.
“I might have something. It’s not perfect, but it’s warm and clean. You’d need to be here by 6 tonight.”
I close my eyes. “We’ll be there.”
Back in the car, I turn around and look at them. “Boys,” I say, “change of plans. We’re going on a different kind of adventure.”
