An under-stair pantry stood beside the kitchen entrance. The two stoves heated the entire house.Sawdust filled the spaces between the sheathing planks...and the log walls for crude insulation. Under-layers of thick felt paper topped with layers of cracked wallpaper covered the downstairs log walls and the upstairs plank walls. Other than sawdust and layers of paper, the house had no insulation. When the wind blew, window drafts would flutter the flour-sack curtains Dee made with her foot treadle. Well, I can at least let her make the cupcakes first, she thought.Jason had trouble focusing on anything that day.If Saturday morning had been bad, the afternoon had been worse. It had been as if his mother had been waiting to pick up their argument from right where they had left off. This time, Jason's father had done nothing to intervene. Worse, Jason had sensed silent, seething anger from him, as if the man somehow knew that his son had controlled him.Jason felt stupid. Of course he would. More

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