Taking Connor

The Tuffman children descend upon my house like Cicada bugs on their seventeen-year return; sudden and loud. Wendy and Jeff basically shoved them out of the car as they did a slow drive by, honking their horn as they sped away.

So far, McKenzie has sat on my back porch, sunglasses on, ear buds in, listening to her iPod and ignoring the rest of us. Wendy called me earlier to inform me McKenzie was less than thrilled about coming to stay here. I was surprised to hear this. It’s been a long time since I’ve kept her—before Blake passed away—but she used to love spending the night here. At least the other children seem fine with sleeping over. Mark has been glued to Co

“Grayson,” I call his name gently, but he doesn’t respond.

“Grayson,” I say louder. Still . . . nothing. Bending down, I put my face level with his. “Grayson,” I sing his name in a goofy voice, and he turns his head, his big brown eyes darting everywhere, but at me. I snap my fingers in front of his face and repeat his name again, with no acknowledgment.

Twisting my mouth, I stand and put my hands on my hips. How could I have missed this? “Umizoomi!” I say, and Grayson stands, his eyes finally meeting mine.

“Umizoomi. Umizoomi,” he repeats before sprinting in my house beelining for my television in the living room. I stare after him for a moment, my heart sinking. The signs are there. I should have noticed sooner, but every time I’m around the Tuffman family it’s chaos, and I missed the giant indicators.

I’m jarred from my thoughts by the screech of the screen door when Co

I take a deep breath and nod yes. I can’t tell Co

“Demi!” Co

“I see my buddies are over for a visit,” Mr. Jenson chuckles as he climbs the stairs slowly, his feeble hand holding the banister while Mrs. Jenson follows, her mouth flat and expression unfriendly. I don’t know why she comes over here with him when she clearly hates it so much, but to keep the good neighbor peace flags flying, I smile and welcome them both into my home. Co

“This is Co

“Oh,” Mr. Jenson’s mouth rounds around the word as his brows rise in understanding. “Blake spoke very highly of you.”

Co

“We brought some vegetables from the garden,” Mrs. Jenson interjects as she thrusts the bucket at Co

“Co

“Sure thing,” Co

“My, my,” Mr. Jenson preens. “Is that McKenzie? She has grown up so much.”

“McKenzie,” I say as I tap her leg. When she looks at me, a

“Sorry,” I apologize to the Jenson. “Teenage years.”

“No worries.” Mr. Jenson waves his hand dismissively. “Are Mary-A

I quickly call for the children and they almost knock Co

“Look what I brought for you?” Mr. Jenson smiles as he hands Mary-A

“What do you say?” I prompt the kids to show their ma

“Thank you,” they reply in unison and hug the old man again.

“We need to go, Ned,” Mrs. Jenson snaps and walks to Co

“You kids come and see me before you leave, and I’ll have a special treat for you, okay.” Mr. Jenson pats their heads and tugs gently on one of Mary-A

“Okay!” The kids yell and jump up and down.

“Thank you for the vegetables,” I say, remembering my ma

“Anytime.” With a wave, he follows Mrs. Jenson out and off the porch. When they’ve passed my house and are out of view, I turn to McKenzie, and she’s already resumed her prior stance; looking away, arms crossed, hating the world. Shaking my head I look to Co

Clapping my hands, I say loudly, “Who wants pizza?”

“We do! We do!” The kids yell and suddenly Grayson is ru

“Did someone say pizza?”

The kids are showered and bathed, curled up on the couch in the living room eating chips, popcorn, cookies, and whatever other junk food I could provide while they watch a movie. Grayson is playing a game on my Kindle, my last resort to get him to sit still for a little while when after di