“You have no idea what you’re doing.”
Ethan smiled. “All I know is you need it more than I do.”
Malcolm laughed through his tears.
Then he pulled Ethan into a brief hug. “Thank you.”
I cried right there on the sidewalk.
I couldn’t help it.
When we finally walked away, Ethan looked back twice.
We did not buy the guitar that day.
At least, not with his money.
In the car, I said, “I’ll buy the guitar.”
He shook his head.
“No.”
“Yes.”
“Mom, that’s not fair.”
“To whom?”
“I wanted to save for it.”
“You did.”
“And then I gave the money away.”
“Also true.”
“So I should start again.”
“I already know you can save, but I choose to do this for my son. Let me.”
He smiled. “Okay, Mom.”
We went home without the guitar, but happy.
The next afternoon, someone knocked on our door.
I was folding laundry, and Ethan was upstairs.
When I opened the door, no one was there.
There was only a white cake box sitting on the porch.
A note was propped against it.
“Happy birthday, kid. You earned it. Cut a slice.”
I stared at it, and then I called Ethan.
He came running downstairs. “What happened?”
I pointed at the cake.
“Is that for me?”
“Apparently.”
“From who?”
“I don’t know.”
We brought it inside.
I checked the box.
It came from a bakery downtown.
Nothing looked suspicious.
Still, I was uneasy.
I called the bakery.
They confirmed the cake had been ordered and paid for.
So, we cut into the cake, ready to enjoy it.
Then the knife hit something solid.
Ethan’s eyes widened. “Mom, what’s that?”
I cut around the object.
Wrapped tightly in food-safe plastic was a rectangular metal bar.
I pulled it out.
It was heavy.
I peeled back the plastic and saw a gold bar.
At least, it looked like one.
Ethan whispered, “Is that real?”
“I have absolutely no idea.”
Then he pointed. “There’s writing.”
Along one edge, something had been engraved.
I grabbed my glasses.
The first line said: “You recently helped a homeless man.”
I kept reading. “He’d like to meet you again.”
Below that was an address.
There was no name or explanation.
Just an address.
I did not sleep well.
Part of me thought we should ignore it.
Another part of me thought we should follow it up.
After all, we had helped a homeless man.
If the gold was genuine, it was worth thousands.
I wanted to know why he would give it to us.
I finally decided we would go to the address, but not alone.
