I drove home with the cardboard box on the passenger seat.
The photograph of my daughters leaned against the mug.
I kept glancing at it at red lights.
When I reached the house, Sarah was waiting near the front door.
She had already heard that Halston Capital had been involved.
“Are you in trouble?” she asked.
“I don’t know.”
“Did you take those files?”
“No.”
She studied my face.
“I believe you.”
The simple words loosened something in my chest.
The girls came running from the living room.
Sophie hugged me first.
Lucy wrapped her arms around my waist and asked whether I was still going to take them to Washington.
I crouched in front of her.
“I’m going to try.”
“That’s not a yes.”
“No,” I said. “It isn’t.”
She looked disappointed, but she nodded.
That evening, Sarah and I sat at the kitchen table and reviewed the bills.
We did not pretend the situation was easy.
We listed the mortgage, tuition, utilities, and everything else that had to be paid.
Then we discussed what could wait.
It was not a dramatic conversation.
It was two people trying to protect their children.
Later, I found Lucy’s little plastic astronaut in the box.
She had hidden it in my desk years earlier.
I placed it on the kitchen counter.
She grinned when she saw it.
“You brought him home.”
“I did.”
“He was lonely.”
I smiled.
“Not anymore.”
The next morning, I drove the girls to school.
An elderly man stood beside his car near the entrance road.
The hood was raised.
He looked uncertain and embarrassed as vehicles passed him.
I slowed.
Sophie looked out her window.
“Dad, are you stopping?”
I pulled over.
The man explained that his car would not start.
I helped him check the battery and called roadside assistance when we could not get it running.
The girls waited beside me.
When the tow truck arrived, the man thanked us.
I told him it was nothing.
As we drove away, Lucy looked at me from the back seat.
“You stopped because he needed someone.”
I glanced at her in the mirror.
“Yes,” I said.
She smiled.
And for the first time since Gavin fired me, I understood that the choice I had made on Route 18 was not something I needed to defend.
I had stopped because someone needed help.
I would stop again.
Source: kaylestore.net
Click here to continue reading: PART 9: Monday at Halston
The Morning My Boss Decided a Stranger’s Life Was Worth Less Than a Business Deal, and I Finally Learned What My Loyalty Was Worth
Part 8 of 13
