“Dragons are made up of the parts of nine animals: the head of a camel, the horns of a deer, the eyes of a devil—is a devil an animal, do you think?” He laughed. “The neck of a snake, the stomach of a clam, the scales of a carp, the claws of an eagle, the paws of a tiger, the ears of an ox. Look at this picture.” He handed it to her. “Do you see all those things?”

“No, I don’t.”

“Well, it makes a good story, I guess,” Tyler said.

Then, without further ado or conversation, he set about building the dragon kite.

Hannah sat in a chair most of the time, although she walked about to hold this end or that, when he needed her help. When it was done, they stood back and inspected the work.

“It’s one pretty kite, isn’t it? I’m afraid it takes up so much of your table, you wouldn’t be able to eat in your dining room until Dad comes with his SUV and moves it for me. Is that all right?”

“Yes. It’s no trouble. We eat in the kitchen unless we’re having company.”

He walked around the table and studied his creation. “It looks a lot like the one in the picture, don’t you think?”

Hannah nodded. It was a striking, fire-breathing dragon as the name on the kit indicated. “It’s spectacular. It’s huge and looks very sturdy. Once she’s up and the wind takes her, she’ll be unbeatable.”

Tyler grinned ear to ear. “You really think so, Aunt Hannah?”

“I most certainly do. When is the contest?”

“Next Sunday. Maybe you and Uncle Max will come and bring Sarina and the baby.”

Hannah stretched her leg. “We just might do that. If I can get about well enough and sit on a folding chair that long. Thanks for asking me to help you. It’s been a fascinating experience. I’ve learned a lot about kites, dragon kites anyway, and I’ve enjoyed it.”

Tyler stopped picking up the bits and pieces left over from kite making. “I enjoyed it too. I never get a chance to talk with you. I’ve always admired the way you make gardens that are so beautiful. My mother, Amy, would have loved them. If she were alive, I’d bring her over and we’d walk in your gardens, sit on a bench in the shade, and talk about things.” His eyes misted and he looked away. “I miss her a lot, still.”

“It’s hard to lose a loved one, especially your mother. I miss all the people I’ve ever loved and lost. Sometimes I lie in bed at night and bring a picture of someone I loved into my mind, and I talk to that person. Do you ever do that, talk to your mother?”

He shuffled his feet and was silent for a time.