Free Brentwood by Grace Livingston Hill

evening for a dollar. He’d be glad to get it. He takes the truck to his dad’s garage for the night and has the privilege of using it for any little odd jobs he gets. But a dollar’s a dollar, you know, and I’ve been too near the edge of nothing to throw dollars away when I can do the thing myself.”
    “Oh, Ted!” said Marjorie pitifully. “But in this case I think a dollar is cheap, just to get the things here tonight and make things look like home again.”
    “Okay with me,” said Ted, “but it won’t likely look like your home at that. Mother’s told us how it looks where you were brought up.”
    “Yes, it was a lovely home,” said Marjorie, with a sudden rush of feeling, “but we’re going to make this as lovely as we can. Now, can you go right away and see if you can get the truck?”
    “Sure thing!” said Ted. “But he can’t bring them till after five. I might as well stick around here and see if there is anything else I can do till then. That will be after dark, too. The neighbors are so curious. Mother hates that! Having them all find out just what we’ve got and what we haven’t. You know, we used to have a nice home in a suburb on the other side of the city. Nice big house, built of stone. Plenty of room. We each had a room to ourselves, and there was a garage and a big garden, and flowers and fruit trees. It was a swell place. And Dad had a position with a good salary. That was before the depression, you know. We had a car, too, and Dad used to drive to town every morning. It was swell living there. Dad had money in the bank. That was about the time Mother tried to get to see you. She did so want to have you visit us. She was all in when she came back with that picture of you and said they wouldn’t let her see you. She’d counted on bringing you home. We’d all counted on it. And then all of a sudden the man where Dad worked died, and his business went flooey, and Dad couldn’t get anything else right away except a little accountant job that didn’t pay much. He took it and kept on trying for something better, but things were going bad, and Mother had to have an operation, and the kids were sick, and Dad had to put a mortgage on the house, and the next thing that happened the bank that had the mortgage went belly up, and they demanded the money right away, all of it, and Dad hadn’t been able to pay the interest for a couple of times, so they took away the house. Oh, it was a mess, and then Dad got sick, and everything’s been going from bad to worse ever since.”
    “Oh, my dear!” said Marjorie, quite honestly crying now. “My dear! I’m so sorry you’ve been going through all that!”
    “Well, don’t bawl!” said Ted crossly, brushing his hand over his own eyes. “I can’t stand bawling! I just told ya because I thought you’d wantta know. We haven’t always been down and out this way. We had a swell home!”
    “Well, let’s make this one as cheerful as we can before evening,” said Marjorie, taking a deep breath. “I’ll get the money!”
    She went into the parlor to her handbag that she had left on the bare little high mantel shelf and brought back a roll of bills that made Ted’s eyes open wide.
    “I put in a little extra,” said his sister, smiling. “I thought perhaps you’d think of something we need that I’ve forgotten.”
    “Gosh!” said Ted, gazing down at the roll of bills in his hand. “Don’t know’s I can trust myself out alone. I might get held up carrying all this wealth.”
    Marjorie smiled. It seemed a very small amount of money to her.
    “Get anything you want, you know. I’m not used to providing for a family. I got everything I could think of at the little store down here, but I suppose I’ve left out a lot of things. Soap is one. Better get plenty. Betty says there isn’t any in the house. And potatoes. We could have roasted potatoes for dinner tonight. I got a beefsteak!”
    The boy grinned.
    “I can see where you’re going