From age seven until seventeen, I was responsible for my brother Ryland and his friend Rico. Being three years older seemed plenty at the time: girls are more mature than boys. Our mother traveled in sales. Dad came and went—mostly went until he was totally gone. If people asked about Rico’s...

At eighteen I lived in New Mexico and waitressed at a creperie, although the menu included huevos rancheros and even bagels. I lived on tips, barely managing to pay my fourth of the rent. Leroy, the cook, sometimes liked me and sometimes not. I needed him to like me. Because if he forgot my...