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pumpkin.”
    Nana always had a unique way of putting things.
    “You forget where we live,” Beth offered. “There aren’t a lot of single men my age. And if they are single, there’s a reason.”
    “That’s not true.”
    “Maybe in a city. But around here? In this town? Trust me. I’ve lived here all my life, and even when I was in college, I commuted from home. On the rare occasions that I have been asked out, we’ll go on two or three dates and then they stop calling. Don’t ask me why.” She waved a hand philosophically. “But it’s no big deal. I’ve got Ben and Nana. It’s not like I’m living alone, surrounded by dozens of cats.”
    “No. You’ve got dogs.”
    “Not my dogs. Other people’s dogs. There’s a difference.”
    “Oh yeah,” Melody snorted. “Big difference.”
    Across the yard, Ben was trailing behind the group with his Super Soaker, doing his best to keep up, when he suddenly slipped and fell. His glasses tumbled off into the grass. Beth knew enough not to get up and see if he was okay: The last time she’d tried to help, he’d been visibly embarrassed. He felt around until he found his glasses and was up and running again.
    “They grow up so fast, don’t they?” said Melody, interrupting Beth’s thoughts. “I know it’s a cliché, but it’s true. I remember my mom telling me they would and thinking she didn’t know what she was talking about. I couldn’t wait for Zach to get a little older. Of course, at the time, he had colic and I hadn’t slept more than a couple of hours a night in over a month. But now, just like that, they’ll be starting middle school already.”
    “Not yet. They’ve got another year.”
    “I know. But it still makes me nervous.”
    “Why?”
    “You know . . . it’s a hard age. Kids are in that stage where they’re beginning to understand the world of adults, without having the maturity of adults to deal with everything going on around them. Add to that all the temptations, and the fact that they stop listening to you the way they once did, and the moods of adolescence, and I’ll be the first to admit that I’m not looking forward to it. You’re a teacher. You know.”
    “That’s why I teach second grade.”
    “Good choice.” Melody grew quiet. “Did you hear about Elliot Spencer?”
    “I haven’t heard much of anything. I’ve been a hermit, remember?”
    “He was caught selling drugs.”
    “He’s only a couple of years older than Ben!”
    “And still in middle school.”
    “Now you’re making me nervous.”
    Melody rolled her eyes. “Don’t be. If my son were more like Ben, I wouldn’t have reason to be nervous. Ben has an old soul. He’s always polite, he’s always kind, always the first to help the younger kids. He’s empathetic. I, on the other hand, have Zach.”
    “Zach’s a great kid, too.”
    “I know he is. But he’s always been more difficult than Ben. And he’s more of a follower than Ben.”
    “Have you seen them playing? From where I’m sitting, Ben’s been doing all the following.”
    “You know what I mean.”
    Actually, she did. Even from a young age, Ben had been content to forge his own path. Which was nice, she had to admit, since it had been a pretty good path. Though he didn’t have many friends, he had a lot of interests he pursued on his own. Good ones, too. He had little interest in video games or surfing the Web, and while he occasionally watched television, he’d usually turn it off on his own after thirty minutes or so. Instead, he read or played chess (a game that he seemed to understand on some intuitive level) on the electronic game board he’d received for Christmas. He loved to read and write, and though he enjoyed the dogs at the kennel, most of them were anxious because of the long hours they spent in a kennel and tended to ignore him. He spent many afternoons throwing tennis balls that few, if any, ever retrieved.
    “It’ll be fine.”
    “I hope so.” Melody set aside