I should have pushed harder.
Three nights later, Oliver stopped in the hallway with his toothbrush in his hand.
“Mom.”
“What, baby?”
“Mrs. Adele’s porch light is still off.”
I looked out the window.
Her little yellow house sat completely dark.
No porch light.
No kitchen lamp.
Nothing.
“She might be sleeping early,” I said, though I didn’t believe it.
Oliver disappeared into his room and came back holding his green piggy bank.
“She says porch lights help people find their way home.”
I glanced at my own stack of bills on the table.
Oliver saw them.
“Are we out of money too?”
“No, sweetheart. I’m just making sure every dollar knows where to go.”
“Then can some of it go to Mrs. Adele?”
“We can try to help.”
He hugged the piggy bank tighter.
“I want to help too.”
“Grown-up bills are big.”
“Then I’ll start small.”
“Oliver…”
“No.” His little face became serious. “I want it to be mine.”
“Why?”
“Because you already take care of us. You buy cereal and shoes and dinosaur toothpaste. Mrs. Adele takes care of me too. She gives me candy and asks about my spelling tests.”
I had to turn away for a second.
Then I grabbed my coat.
“Okay,” I said softly. “Your gift. My help. We’ll do it together.”
Mrs. Adele took a long time to answer her door.
When she finally opened it, she was wearing her winter coat inside the house.
