To my family, who means everything. Wayne and Martha Simmons, Keith and Deborrah McEntire, Elton and Mandy McEntire, and my new nephew, Carter, who has all the hope in the world in his eyes.
To Ethan, who still feeds me and the boys when I forget to, and to Andrew and Charlie, who will one day (hopefully) understand why their mama walks around with her brains leaking out of her ears.
And finally, to my grandmother, Doris, who was brave enough to take a ten-year-old to Memphis on a plane, and to my godmother, Carol, who didn’t hesitate to pull a perfectly good dollhouse out of the garbage so we could have our way with our imaginations that week, and who didn’t get mad at all when I dropped my plastic jelly slipper off the paddle boat at Mud Island.
