Theresa Willow observed her son holding the notice, and dropped in to place more food on her younger sons' plates. "Don't worry about that, Stephen. I just got an extra fifty dollars in my paycheck on Thursday, so I can get that taken care of right away."

"I thought we took care of this, though mom? I remember paying it last month!"

Theresa nodded, "You did, but this bill is for this month's charges, plus the late fee for last month," she said, quietly.

Stephen sighed, putting the bill down. This had been common scene in their home lately. While things had been getting better since Stephen started working full time, Theresa had over ten years of experience of supporting three boys on her own. Ever since their father, Jerry Willow, had walked out of their lives, she had done her best to support their family on her own. Even in the best of times things were usually lean. Stephen could recall several nights going to bed hungry with no other options.

Yet, with the gaining of new hours at Price Chopper, Stephen's paychecks had been going farther, and he hoped it was just a matter of time before they could be caught up. Still, moments like these could be demoralizing, a reminder that they were only one small move away from poverty.

Noticing her son's stress, Theresa casually put a comforting hand on his back, "We're okay, sweetie. Please try not to worry."

"I'll try, mom," he answered, quietly, and returning his attention to his plate, where he went to stab his last sausage with his fork. Unfortunately, his fork hit only the porcelain of the plate. His sausage was gone.

Looking up from his plate, he could see the guilty eyes, and full mouth, of his brother, Chase. "Wer ya eatin' that?" he asked with a full mouth.

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"Not anymore," sighed Stephen, although he had a hard time being angry with his brothers. Besides, it's not like Stephen needed any more food as it was. His jeans were already too tight.

Looking at the clock, Stephen realized that he needed to get moving. Sitting up from the table and depositing his plate in the sink, he reached for his keys.

"What time will you be home tonight, Stephen?" His mother asked, looking up from the stove.

"Probably late. I'm working the double s.h.i.+ft, remember? It will most likely be after ten."

"Okay, we'll see you then. Have a good s.h.i.+ft!"

Stephen managed a weak smile, "Thanks mom," and just as quickly headed out the door.