“You sold a guitar worth over a thousand dollars for eight hundred and fifty?”
“I needed the money quickly.”
“Who bought it?”
“Mr. Keller.”
“From church?”
He nodded.
“He asked me if I was sure.”
“How many times?”
Alejandro thought about it.
“Four.”
Despite everything, I almost smiled.
“And you were?”
“Sure.”
I looked at my son.
“You really did this because of Elena?”
He nodded.
“She shouldn’t have to be embarrassed every time she wants to go somewhere.”
Those words stayed with me.
I pulled him into my arms.
He hugged me tightly.
But after a few seconds, I pulled away.
“I’m proud of you.”
His eyes brightened.
“But I’m also angry.”
His face fell.
“You cannot sell something that expensive without telling us.”
“I know.”
“You could have come to me.”
“I know.”
“We could have helped.”
He looked down.
“Would you have?”
The question hurt.
“Of course I would have.”
“But you might have said we couldn’t afford it.”
I opened my mouth.
Then stopped.
Because he wasn’t completely wrong.
Money was tight.
We weren’t poor, but we weren’t wealthy either.
A new wheelchair wasn’t something we could simply buy without thinking.
“I would have found a way,” I said.
