Trudy looked out on the unwatered yard through dusty glass, clutching a pillowcase unconsciously. She hadn't been able to make 3 out of every 4 lights work in the low slung stucco casa. Gus was out cold on the couch, sunglasses still on after a 500-mile push to their new town.
The children were counting on them. She sighed a embarrassed sigh, set down the pillowcase, tied her red-brown hair back with a light blue ribbon, and started to work.