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pushing it inside. “Let them be your headache, not mine.”
    Well, we’re just fine with that. Fine, that is, until a Ready Rabbit Airlines representative comes up to Daddy and says, “That will be seventy-five dollars for the pets, sir.”
    “Oh, I won’t be paying for it,” Daddy says. “
They
will,” he says, pointing to us.
    The representative turns to Angie and me. “If you plan on bringing your pets on board, ladies, you’ll have to pay an additional seventy-five dollars.”
    I almost start stuttering, I’m so upset. “I’ll pay it,” Angie says, whipping out her wallet.
    I can feel Daddy’s gaze on us, but I’m too scared to look at him. I reach into my backpack and take out my bottle of air-sickness pills. I’m already feeling airsick, and we’re not even off the ground yet.
    I hand one to Angie, too, and she pops it into her mouth. Last month, when we flew to Hollywood with the Cheetah Girls, Angie and I were so excited we forgot to take our pills. We ended up throwing up
everything
. It was so embarrassing!
    “Bye, Daddy,” Angie says, after she’s parted with most of
her
prize money and we’ve been checked in. Bye, Daddy, is right. And bye, prize money, too.
    When we finally reach Porgy and Bess’s storage space, which is almost at the tail of the plane, I set the cage down on its rack. “I hope you two enjoy the ride—’cuz it sure cost enough,” I tell them.
    “I bet
our
tickets cost a whole lot more than seventy-five dollars,” Angie reminds me as we walk back to our seats in the middle of the plane. “Come on, let’s forget about it. We still have some spending money left. Let’s just pray that Galleria, Chanel, and Dorinda have a blessed Thanksgiving.”
    We sit down, buckle up, and Angie takes my hand. Like we do every time we fly, we hold hands now, and say a prayer until the plane takes off.
    When we’re finally airborne, and we can see the big, white fluffy clouds that look just like cotton balls, we let go of each other’s hands and breathe a deep sigh of relief.
    Hot sauce, Houston, and Karma’s Children, here we come
!

Chapter
4
    I never thought I’d be so happy just to walk through a busy airport terminal—but that’s exactly the exhilaration I feel when we hit George Bush Intercontinental after our six-hour journey, which included a layover in Chicago, where we caught our connecting flight to Houston.
    “Hi, Ma!” Angie screeches, throwing her arms around our mother like she’s been lost at sea, and Ma’s a lifesaver.
    Meanwhile, Ma is peeking over Angie’s shoulder at Porgy and Bess in their cage.
    “What on earth?” Ma mumbles, her eyes twinkling because she knows we are up to something.
    “Um …” I hesitate when Angie looks at me. We have to be
very
careful what we tell Ma. Angie and I have decided we are not going to tell her about Daddy’s kookiness—drinking concoctions out of the blender and such—and definitely not one word about his new girlfriend Abala, not even if Ma spoon-feeds us turnips for forty straight hours to force a confession out of us!
    “Um—we’ve never been away from Porgy and Bess for a whole week, and we don’t want them getting lonely,” I say.
    “Your father let you bring them down here?” Ma asks, her eyes bright with disbelief.
    “Well, we had to pay an extra seventy-five dollars and the flight attendant didn’t even serve them lunch!” Angie moans.
    “If we’d have known about that, Porgy and Bess would still be home, munching on their carrots!” I quickly add.
    Laughing, Ma grabs the handle of the cage and puts it on the luggage cart. She looks smaller than I remember her. At first I think it must be because Angie and I have gotten taller. But then, looking down at her feet, I realize it’s probably because she isn’t wearing high heels. I wonder why not. Ma always wears high heels with her pantsuits, and she is wearing a pantsuit today—this one is powder blue with a pretty (fake) flower in the lapel