Bennett already shoveled her front step, but the curb by the gutter is icy.”

Sadie took the hot plate in both hands and held it close against the front of her red coat.

“I’ll walk right in the tire tracks,” she said, taking small, careful steps down the wooden stairs.

I stood on the back porch step and watched her red coat cross the plowed street under the yellow glow of the streetlights.

Across the road, Mrs.

Mary Bennett was already waiting at her glass storm door, her porch lamp throwing a warm circle over the front steps.