Summer opened her mouth, her next words forming on her lips, when a door opened on the side of the building. She saw his boots first—gray—and then long legs followed. Gangly, her fifth-grade teacher, Mrs. Eli, would have said. He was tall and lean like the cowboys in movies. He wore jeans, a black T-shirt and a smile spread so wide you couldn’t help but smile, too.

“Oh my God, he still wears that damn outfit.” Her mother said it more to herself than to Summer, her fingers running underneath her eyes and then through her hair. She watched, interested, as her mother clapped her hands in delight and then jumped out of the car, sprinting toward him.

There was a commotion outside as Summer scrambled to look out the back window.

“Look at all this, Taured!” her mama said, holding him at arm’s length and gazing up into his face. “You did it!” He looked so pleased at her words that he hugged her again, lifting her feet off the ground.

Mama walked slowly back to the car with him, never taking her eyes off his face as they spoke. It was like she was thirsty for him.

Summer checked that her braid was neat, then pulled it over her shoulder. Then he was there at her door, opening it and bending down to smile at her. His face was mostly covered by a thick, black beard, but the skin around his nose and eyes was tan, like he spent all his time outside. There was a freckle on one earlobe, almost making it look like his ear was pierced. He held out his hand to assist her out of the car and she felt very la-di-da.

“Summa, Summa, Summatime...” he said when she was standing in front of him. It was so hot, hotter even than California. He smelled nice and he held out his arms for a hug. She hugged him because she’d seen her mother do it and because she missed her dad.

“You’re going to love it here,” he said, looking Summer in the eye. “We’re a family.”

“Why do you have to live way out here with your family?” She kept her voice light and innocent so her mother wouldn’t chide her for it later.

“Because the rest of the world gets in your head and tries to teach you its way of thinking. Bad men sold your dad the stuff that killed him, that’s how messed up the world is.”

“Drugs,” she provided.

“Yes. You’re a smart kid, just like your mom.” He tugged her braid and she smiled at him, and then her mother smiled at her. Normally, her mother would never let anyone call her a kid, but here was Taured breaking the rules, her mom grinning like she enjoyed it.