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home with them for Christmas dinner. They were running late, too.
    Evan, an only child, was also in second grade. His family was new to town and the kid didn’t exactly fit in. As Miriam put it, their softhearted daughter—who was also one of the most popular, outgoing children in her class—had picked up another stray. The two had formed a bond, which Wade didn’t really understand as they were so different. Evan didn’t like the country or horses, and refused to ride, but he was supersmart and actually loved homework. Jessica was a country girl at heart, totally horse crazy, and preferred anything active over doing homework—yet she’d sit down at the kitchen table and work with Evan.
    â€œI can’t wait to tell Ev what I got,” Jessica said eagerly from the backseat of the car.
    â€œHoney, go easy with that, okay?” Miriam said. “His family probably doesn’t give gifts.”
    â€œSanta doesn’t even visit?”
    â€œWell, Evan said his family doesn’t celebrate Christmas,” Miriam answered. “Santa probably knows that.” His wife, as softhearted as his daughter, had asked Evan if his family would like to join the Blys for dinner. Evan reported back that his folks said thanks but no thanks. They were fine with him coming, though.
    The area of town Wade was driving through was far different from the one where Miriam’s parents lived. Here, the houses were trailers or shacks, mostly rentals and in poor repair. A few yards had flowers, but more were full of rusting junk. Though Evan said his dad was a mechanic and his mom worked part-time as a waitress, it was pretty clear that they struggled to make ends meet. Heading down the block where the boy lived, Wade saw him standing outside the run-down rental cottage. He wore a jacket far too thin for the weather and had his ragged backpack slung over one shoulder.
    When Wade pulled up, Evan quickly opened the door and hopped in, shivering.
    â€œMerry Christmas, Ev!” Jessica said.
    Miriam and Wade echoed the greeting, and then his wife said, “I’m sorry we’re late. You should have stayed inside, where it’s warm. Besides, I’d like to go wish your parents a happy holiday.”
    She opened the passenger door to get out, but Evan said, “No, don’t. They went out for a walk.”
    Wade hadn’t met the parents and Miriam had met only Brooke Kincaid. Just once, briefly. When Evan first started coming to their place, Miriam had walked home with him one day. He didn’t invite her in but brought his mother to the door. She was wearing a ratty bathrobe, and her blond hair was unwashed and tangled. The woman apologized, said that she’d been in bed with a bad headache, and that she was glad to meet Miriam and happy their kids were friends. Miriam told Wade that, even unkempt and sick, Brooke was beautiful, and looked too young to have a seven-year-old child. Perhaps that was why Evan called her Brooke, rather than Mom.
    Now, as Wade drove away from the rental house, Miriam said, “Evan, don’t you have a warmer coat? Or at least a heavy sweater to wear under it?”
    â€œBrooke says I grow so fast she can’t keep up with me.”
    â€œKids have a habit of doing that,” Wade said. Still, the boy was no bigger than Jessica, and skinny. But maybe he’d been even smaller and had a growth spurt this year. Wade cranked the rattly heater up as far as it would go, which still wasn’t great. They’d bought the car used, back when Jessie was born, because Wade needed the truck pretty much full-time. He sure hoped the vehicle would last until they could afford something nicer—which, given the size of their mortgage, wouldn’t be any day soon.
    The kids—mostly Jessie—chattered away in the backseat, the radio played country versions of Christmas music, and the heater clattered like it was working its butt off. Miriam