Balance in life was a tricky thing. Every time she thought she had a solid position it had a way of throwing her. How did one learn to maintain an even keel? Very carefully, Karen Meade thought as she knelt on the bed shifting to stay upright. With binoculars raised, she leaned on the windowsill and peered out across the field. "Mom?" Looking over her shoulder Karen raised her finger to her lips to silence her fifteen-year-old son that stood in the doorway shaking his head. Teenagers were another one of life's little tosses. They were heaven's way of reminding you that you were never on firm ground. "What are you doing?" he asked, climbing across the bed to stare out the window beside his mother. "Aw Man. It‟s just a moving van." "Yeah, and I want to see who‟s moving in. So hush." The house across the field had been empty for four years. Karen didn‟t remember anyone coming to look at the place. Now there was a truck in the driveway. Men unloaded boxes and furniture into the old farmhouse, but so far, she hadn‟t caught a glimpse of anyone besides the men in moving company uniforms. "I hope they have kids," Bobby said continuing to stare out the window. "Boys," he added looking over at his mom hopefully. "Teenage boys." Karen smiled. It had been hardest on her son when her husband died. Life was tough enough out in the rural farm community with neighbors few and far between and the closest town over six miles away. It was tougher still when you were the only man in the house with two women. Even if one of the women, her seventeen-year-old daughter, was gone most of the time doing whatever seventeen-year-old girls do.