The dwarfier of the dwarves appeared in an inside-out striped Polo shirt and plaid shorts. “I counted seventy-three boxes, Mommy, and the man with the mustache is named Juan and you spell it with a J, and he’s from Guadalajara, and that’s spelled with a G, and he doesn’t have a green card but he wants one. Can I make him one, Mommy? A green card? I’m hungry. Let’s get sushi.” Adam bounced up and down on the balls of his feet, a pixie with unbrushed, curly hair.

Suzanne handed him a dollar from her purse. “After lunch we’re going to go to Lucy’s, just you and me. What do you think you can buy with that? Do you think it’s enough for a cookie?”

He shoved the money into his pocket like a man stowing his wallet. “I’m going to save it for when Grammy comes.”

Suzanne kneeled so they could be eye to eye. “Grammy’s not coming.”

“Yes she is.”

“To visit. Grammy will visit.”

“Grammy will live with us. She’ll sleep next to me. We planned it, Mommy.”

For a moment Suzanne let herself imagine her mother moving in, sleeping next to Adam, as the two had covertly plotted, 24/7: I think you deserve a puppy, too, but Mommy’s the boss; and I always think it’s best if the mother doesn’t work, if it’s not a necessity, but maybe I’m old fashioned! and It’s a wonder he doesn’t come down with pneumonia wearing those thin pajamas, but you’re the mother, you know best. Point, aim, fire, repeat; her mother was a sharpshooter who pretended she’d never handled a rifle.

“Mommy,” Adam said, no doubt alarmed by the expression on Suzanne’s face.

She gave him another dollar. “Would you like a milkshake? A little bird told me Lucy makes great milkshakes.”

“I want a tall skim half-caf latte and a hazelnut biscotti!”

Suzanne gathered him up in her arms. “I’m going to eat you up.”

“Mommy! I’m not food.”

She did, in fact, want to eat him up. She wanted to hold him so tight their hearts beat in time. They’d never bonded properly. Because she hadn’t breastfed? She’d tried, but it had been a fiasco that resulted in tears and screaming on both their parts. Her mother was the one he called for in the night. “Did you see your room? They set up your racing-car bed.”

Adam sat on the floor with a book that looked like it weighed as much as he did. He was the one who had figured out that Tunlaw was walnut backward. Tunlaw Place. “Shouldn’t it be Tunlaw Ecalp, Mommy?”