Miss Ellison had given me a nice room with white curtains and a window that looked into the branches of a tulip tree, which looked especially pretty when it was covered with winter snow and icicles. Miss Ellison also made very good banana bread and carrot cake, and she got my Brownie camera back from the headmistress and didn’t seem to mind how many pictures I took. She even gave me a little mechanical bird in a cage to keep me company.

The cloud-over-sun feeling faded a little while I was living at Miss Ellison’s, but I also didn’t let myself get too comfy because I knew I couldn’t stay there forever. I still didn’t have a real home like all of the other girls here did.

On the last day of the semester, just before Christmas vacation, a lot of parents drove to Miss Horton’s to pick up their daughters and take them home. Some parents just sent big black limousines driven by chauffeurs to pick them up. On the last day before vacation, one of the girls asked me during math class:

Is your boyfriend Sheriff Stone going to be sending a horse by to pick you up?

The other girls in the class snickered.

Aunt Constance came to get me instead. Our Windy Ridge car looked very different when it didn’t have trunks and silver candlesticks and carpets stuffed inside it and tied to the top. Aunt Constance had swapped out her summery straw hat and flowered dress for one of Grandmother’s old fur hats and the mink coat we’d used as a blanket in the Texas desert.

Hello, Julia, she said as she hugged me into the front of the coat.

I breathed into the fur; it still smelled of Grandmother’s perfume and I had such a pang for Windy Ridge that I almost cried. I was very happy to see Aunt Constance, but it was hard, too, because it was like having someone you love visit you in prison and knowing they eventually have to leave you there when they go back into the world again.

Miss Ellison served us banana bread in her living room, and at first she and Aunt Constance talked about the weather and the school endowment, whatever that was, and then of course the talk turned to the topic of me.

I’d like to say this delicately, said Miss Ellison, because I think Julia is a special girl. But it is precisely because she is so special and unusual that I bring it up. Have you considered educating her at home?

Aunt Constance looked very uncomfortable.

Well, at present, we are in between residences, she told Miss Ellison, and I knew that it embarrassed her to say so. Then she sat up very straight, and asked:

Is there some question about Julia’s contribution to the Miss Horton’s community?

Certainly not, said Miss Ellison. It’s nothing like that. But I do not believe that Miss Horton’s is the right place for your niece. She is misunderstood here.

What can you mean? asked Aunt Constance. She gave me a worried look. Has something happened? Are you all right, Julia?

Miss Ellison set down her plate.

Julia, do you mind making us a fresh pot of tea? she asked.

I wasn’t fooled for a minute; I knew they just wanted to talk about me privately, but I got up and walked out of the room with a teapot anyway. Of course I stationed myself right on the other side of the door.

Miss Lancaster, I am afraid that six years at this school would destroy Julia’s spirit, Miss Ellison told Aunt Constance. I understand that Julia’s mother is absentee and that you are her de facto caretaker. I personally feel that she would be better off with you than in this very conventional environment. I would be happy to create a special Miss Horton’s lesson plan for her and supervise her education from afar.

Aunt Constance was silent for a minute.

Miss Ellison, I’m sure that Julia is an unusual presence here at Miss Horton’s, she said at last. But I’m not sure that I agree with you. I hardly know how to raise her. I don’t have children of my own. I don’t know that I’m … equipped to handle her.

But you have been raising her, said Miss Ellison. Julia has told me everything.

Yes, and since she’s been in my care, she’s learned how to shoot a gun and drive a car, said Aunt Constance. She has run away and taken money from my purse. All before she has even officially become a teenager. I’m afraid that she’s running completely wild.

I honestly don’t think that Julia is a rebel at heart, said Miss Ellison. I certainly think that she’s high-spirited, but she’s also very sweet. She has so much affection to share and no one to share it with.

She needs a mother, she added. Not necessarily her real mother. But someone who loves her and makes her feel safe.

I do love Julia, said Aunt Constance in a quavering voice. And she’s all that I have left. But don’t you think she needs normalcy and to be around girls her own age? Especially after all that’s happened?

I think that Julia needs love and understanding, and she’s not getting enough of either thing here at Miss Horton’s, said Miss Ellison. I can only do so much, but I promise to help you from here, Miss Lancaster. You and Julia will not be alone.

They were quiet for a minute, and then Miss Ellison called out:

Julia, how is that tea coming along?

I scrambled into the kitchen and made the fresh tea, and by the time I went back into the living room I could tell that something had been decided. Aunt Constance dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief.

Julia, she said. We think that you should leave Miss Horton’s and come live with me in the city. Miss Ellison would mail us your lessons and assignments, and we would mail them back to her to be graded. Is this agreeable to you?

I get to come live in a hotel with you again? I asked.

Yes, said Aunt Constance. Until I find us a permanent house.

But don’t worry, she added. I still have all of our practical-travel things there, of course, to make us feel at home.

Miss Ellison helped us carry my things to the car.

Goodbye, Julia, she said as she hugged me. Merry Christmas to you both. Happy New Year too.

Just before she closed the car door, she leaned in and said:

I have a feeling that 1969 will be the year that you find home again.

Aunt Constance drove slowly down the snow-covered highway back toward New York City, and at first we were very quiet.

What are you thinking about, Julia? she asked me.

I was thinking about something that Madame Batilde said down in New Orleans, I told her.

I knew you were probably eavesdropping, said Aunt Constance. What part?

The part where she said that you’d find my real mother and that it wasn’t Rosemary Lancaster, I said, and asked her: Do you think she meant that it was you?

Aunt Constance reached out and took my hand.

Maybe she did, she said. I’m going to do my best.

I’ve missed you, Julia, she added. It has been very lonely being the only Lancaster in town.