Because his father was trying to rescue him from honoring the agreement.
I walked over.
“Richard.”
He looked at me.
“You’re right,” I said.
Ethan stared at me.
Richard seemed relieved.
“Exactly.”
“I don’t want his money.”
Ethan’s shoulders fell.
“Oh, come on.”
I continued.
“But I do want the donation.”
Richard’s relief vanished.
I pointed toward the veterans fund booth.
“The agreement wasn’t that Ethan gives me ten thousand dollars. The agreement was that it goes there.”
Richard lowered his voice.
“That is still a substantial amount of money.”
“Yes.”
“You can’t honestly think one foolish bet should—”
“It wasn’t your bet.”
The words came from Samuel Reed.
Richard turned.
Samuel had remained at the edge of the group.
His tone wasn’t confrontational.
That somehow made it more effective.
“He’s twenty-seven,” Samuel said. “Old enough to make a foolish promise and old enough to keep one.”
Richard studied him.
Then his son.
Ethan picked up the envelope.
“I already signed the check.”
His father stared.
“You came here planning this?”
Ethan looked away.
That surprised me.
So this hadn’t been entirely spontaneous.
Before I could ask anything, Ethan walked to the veterans fund table.
