Two letters came the other day. Mama opened and read the first one with a smile and slipped it back into the envelope. She read the second one out loud: Your rent is long overdue. Either you pay within five business days or vacate the premises, the rent lady wrote.

One week later we were back on the road again. This time in a red pickup. Can’t count on him much these days, Mama said about Daddy. And I think, No you can’t. We got kicked out the house on Magnolia, the house on South Side, and now this one. I loved and hated this place. I hated when the faucet leaked and leaked and the rent lady never fixed it. I loved when my friends came over and we took old skates apart and screwed their wheels on wooden planks and they became our new skate boards.

Mama was speeding and blasting music on the car stereo. The wheels were hitting every pothole on the road and the furniture inside the pickup was rocking and rolling. She slowed down when she came to a stop sign and drove with caution along the way. Then she pulled up to a new place—a cute little blue doll house with white shutters and two white rockers on the porch with a plastic flower pot between them.

Mama jumped out the pickup and rushed onto the porch. She lifted the flower pot and grabbed the key. When she pushed the door, in Mama shouted, It’s Mine! My late Aunt Tussy who had no children left it for me. Pulling the first letter from the envelope, she cried again, It’s mine! My name is on this here deed.

Mama smiled with confidence, with certainty this house will always be her own.