As if we don’t already have a full house––Tanya, her mother Laura, Grace, me, and Habibi, our dog––Grace announces, “I want a turtle.”
I look across the living room at her, grinning her post-orthodontia smile, curled up in an easy chair by the fire, her red hair in a top-knot at the tiptop of her head. Tall and thin, she wears a baggy 2X gray sweatshirt over leggings.
