20(a)
The winter in Connellsville was wet and cold.
When I curled up on the bed with the hand warmer in my arms, the air conditioner was on in the room. Oliver was sitting at the table next to the bed, struggling to choose among all kinds of gifts.
"Will Mrs. Nelson like a cashmere coat?"
I yawned, changed the playing speed of the TV series two times faster, and said lazily, "She'll like it. Anyway, she likes expensive gifts."
I had taken Oliver home when we were kids. So my mother was very clear about his family affairs and felt very sorry for him. In addition, Oliver often came to my home to play with me in middle school, so my mom almost treated him as her own child.
And Oliver had been thinking about what gift he should prepare for my mother for almost a week since he knew that he was going back home with me to celebrate the new year.