My daughter did not ask. She said the girl was eating with us, and I was already at the stove trying to make one pan reach four people. The girl behind her wore an oversized hoodie in August and kept her eyes on the floor. Rennie called her Tovah. I said grab a plate, and in my head I cut the meat and added rice and hoped nobody would notice. Dinner was quiet. Tovah ate slowly and carefully, like each bite counted, and drank glass after glass of water, and flinched at every small noise in the house.
Afterward I told Rennie she could not bring people home when we were barely managing, and she told me Tovah had not eaten all day, had nearly fainted at school again, that her father was working every hour he could find because of hospital bills, that their power had been shut off the week before, and that she only ever ate the school lunch. I sat down. I had been worrying about portions. That girl was trying to get to tomorrow. I said bring her back.
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