Our day at Uncle Norm’s was great as usual. Aunt Geniel was in fine form and laid out a spread of food like none we had ever had at home, even in the comparatively fat days of California. I suppose she knew we didn’t have much. She’d always say that Joel and I looked like waifs (we didn’t know what waifs were except hungry) and she happily took it upon herself to fatten us up.

When my mom arrived to pick us up later that evening, I asked Aunt Geniel if I could take some food home with us. She usually sent us home with plates of food anyway but tonight I wanted to be sure. I wasn’t asking for Joel and me. Even with the fun we had, I found my thoughts frequently turning to Grace. I wondered if she was cold and if she had found something to eat. I also worried that she wouldn’t be there when we got back.

Aunt Geniel filled two paper platters with cold cuts, cheese, cookies, and sandwich buns, and covered it all with Saran Wrap. While my mother was talking to my aunt, I took the platters out to the van and put them in the back, covering them with one of the cushions we kept back there.

It was dark when we got home. “You boys go right to bed,” my mom said. “We’ve got church in the morning.”

“Okay,” Joel said.

“Eric, give me a hand. Dad’s not feeling well.” My mom grabbed my dad’s crutches and we positioned ourselves on either side of him as he lowered himself out of the van. When the three of us had made our way to the front door he said, “Okay, I’ve got it,” and hobbled off to his room with us trailing behind him, just in case. He sat down on the bed and my mom took his coat and hung it along with her own.

“Good night,” I said, and walked out to the kitchen, then ducked through the back door to retrieve the two platters of food I’d left in the van. I carried them to the clubhouse. As I neared I could see several sets of footprints in the deep snow. I tapped on the wall. “Grace. It’s me.”

I knelt down and opened the door, then shoved the platters through the opening, crawling in after them. Grace was in the corner reading. She immediately set down her book, eyeing the food with great interest.

“I thought you might be hungry,” I said.

“I’m starving.”

I set the platters next to her and she grabbed a roll, took a bite, then tore it open. She stuffed the inside with ham, roast beef, and cheese and practically shoved the whole thing in her mouth.

While she ate I looked around. There was a pile of books next to her. “You went to the library?”