“Juniper,” my mother says. “Juniper needs a family. I want you to go over there tomorrow morning, Caroline, and tomorrow evening we can all have dinner together—” “Whoa, whoa, whoa,” I say quickly. “Slow down. She has a brother; they get along well. She’s not completely alone. So no one needs to come over here in the morning. And we’ve got a lot going on this week, so probably no dinner tomorrow.” Inexplicably, a lump has begun to form in the back of my throat, spurred by my mom’s immediate call to arms—no hesitation, no questions, just love.
