For six months, my thirteen-year-old son told me every paycheck from his Saturday job was going toward the bike he desperately wanted.
It was a used mountain bike he’d been watching online for nearly a year.
Black frame.
Red lettering.
Too expensive for something he would eventually outgrow, in my opinion…. Continue Reading
Perfect, according to Evan.
The first time he showed it to me, I offered to pay half.
He shook his head.
“No.”
“Why not?”
“I want to buy it myself.”
I remember smiling because I was proud of him.
After losing his father three years earlier, Evan rarely asked for much.
So when he said he wanted to earn the bike himself, I let him.
What I didn’t understand was that six months would pass.
The bike would never appear.
And every paycheck would disappear somewhere else.
I discovered Evan had taken a job almost by accident.
