The day she had gotten the kittens she had been in a hurry, intent on following the directions she had been given, and she had not really paid attention to the scenery. Today as she passed the worn-out, shabby homes surrounded by junk-filled yards, she was horrified. Up close, in the unblinking winter sunlight, the houses looked flimsy and unsubstantial. How would these people survive the cold winter? When she had lived in the city she had grown used to seeing homeless people outside the grocery store and the bank, and there were neighborhoods she passed all the time on the train that she’d never visit. In the city she had always been aware of poor people, but since she’d moved to Tinker’s Cove she’d assumed that poverty was a city problem. In the country, unless you went looking, you weren’t likely to encounter real poverty.

Pulling up in front of Lisa Young’s place, she smiled at the little girl sitting on the step, playing with a Barbie doll. She was absorbed in make-believe, stroking the doll’s bright yellow hair and talking to it in a high-pitched sing-song voice. She didn’t look up until Lucy spoke to her.

“Hi there. Is your mom home?”

The little girl disappeared inside and soon Lisa appeared at the door, wearing the same defensive expression Lucy remembered from her earlier visit.

“Do you remember me? I took the kittens before Christmas.”

“Sure.” Lisa stood in the doorway, the little girl clinging to her side.

“Well, I wanted to thank you. My kids really love the kittens, but that’s not why I’m here,” explained Lucy. “I cleaned out my daughters’ closets, and I’ve got a lot of outgrown clothes that I think will fit your daughter. What’s her name?”

“Crystal,” said Lisa, still expressionless.

“I really think these will fit Crystal. Would you like to see?”

“Sure.” Lisa shrugged and grudgingly followed Lucy to the car. Lucy put down the tailgate and began spreading out the garments, feeling like a saleslady as she pointed out the virtues of each item.

“This is really warm, isn’t it cute?” she said, holding up an appliquéd bathrobe. “And this sweater used to be Elizabeth’s favorite. She cried when it got too small.” Lucy shook her head, neatly folding the sweater and replacing it in the bag.

“How much do you want?” asked Lisa.

“Nothing.” Lucy was shocked. “I usually give things like this to a friend, but none of my friends have a little girl the right size. Couldn’t Crystal use these?”

Lucy smiled at Crystal, who was fingering a bottle-green velvet dress with a lace collar and pearl buttons.

“Okay,” said Lisa, picking up the bags. “Thank you kindly.”

“You’re very welcome. Can I help you carry them?”