
They spent most of the morning looking at these things, and more. Tim and Mom seemed to be saving up thoughts for a long talk later. Eric held Mom’s hand and looked at everything with wide eyes. Tim held Mom’s other hand, and Julie held no one’s hand. She looked at everything with narrow eyes, and a thought kept trying and trying to cross her mind until it finally took shape and she said to herself: “Almost, but not quite, a dump. I believe the word Mom would use is charming.”
It was hard to tell what Mom was thinking. She looked a bit uneasy when she saw the traffic on the street with the park and zoo on it. She may have bitten her tongue when they walked by the two-story, brick school. But when they came around to the front of the house again, she let out a little sigh that may have meant, “It does look like a home, after all.”
That afternoon the temperature dropped, and the house began to make brittle creaking and popping sounds in the strengthening wind. Tim built a fire in the living room fireplace. He wedged a towel into the crack under the door that led out to the front porch. Then he went upstairs to Eric’s bedroom and dug a few extra quilts out of the closet there.

That, Julie thought later, was the turning point.
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