“It’s mine!”fir
“Exactly,” Cal snapped. “That’s why I’m not taking it.”
Mr. Alvarez spotted me near the entrance.
“Ma’am… Thank God.”
Evan spun around.
The instant he saw me, he released the envelope.
“Mom?”
“What’s going on?”
Nobody answered.
I pointed to the envelope.
“Is that your paycheck?”
Evan stared at the floor.
“Yes.”
“And why was Cal holding it?”
Cal tossed the envelope onto the counter.
“Because your son tried giving me every cent.”
I turned to Evan.
“What?”
“It’s not like that,” he muttered.
Cal folded his arms.
“Then tell her what it’s like.”
Evan’s head snapped up.
“Stay out of it.”
“Evan,” I said sharply.
He fell silent.
I picked up the paycheck.
“Evan, why would you give Cal your money?”
His answer came immediately.
“Because I owed him.”
Cal slapped his palm against the counter.
“There! That’s what he keeps saying.”
“I did owe you,” Evan argued.
“For what?”
“For helping me.”
“You helped me carry 12 boxes of potatoes last month. Am I supposed to sign over my Social Security?”
Evan glared at him.
“That’s different.”
“Why?”
“Because it is.”
I looked toward Mr. Alvarez.
“Can someone please tell me what’s happening?”
The owner leaned against the register.
“How much do you think Evan has saved toward that bicycle?”
The question caught me off guard.
“I don’t know. He keeps saying he’s almost there.”
Mr. Alvarez nodded slowly.
“That’s what he tells us too.”
Evan’s expression changed.
“Don’t.”
