“Because we don’t have money?”
Caleb’s chest tightened.
“No.”
“That’s why you didn’t buy it.”
“Nora.”
“Are we losing the apartment?”
“No.”
“Do I have to change schools?”
“No.”
She looked frightened now.
Caleb pulled her close.
“Listen.”
She did.
“We’re okay.”
“But you don’t have a job.”
“Today.”
“What about tomorrow?”
“I don’t know.”
That was the hardest sentence.
Children noticed when adults lied about certainty.
Caleb would not do that.
“I don’t know what happens tomorrow.”
Nora’s eyes filled.
“But I know you have a home.”
He touched her nose.
“You have food.”
Another.
“You have me.”
She nodded.
“And I have you.”
She wrapped both arms around him.
He held her.
After a while, Nora asked, “Did you do something bad?”
Caleb went still.
“No.”
“Then why did they fire you?”
He considered.
“Because sometimes people disagree about what the right thing is.”
“What did you think was right?”
“Making sure an airplane was safe.”
Nora frowned.
“That seems obvious.”
Caleb almost laughed.
“Sometimes obvious gets complicated.”
“Adults make things stupid.”
“Yes.”
He nodded.
“We often do.”
She looked toward the tree.
“Who brought everything?”
“My friends.”
“All of them?”
“A lot.”
“That’s nice.”
“Yeah.”
Nora leaned against him.
“Then maybe you did the right thing.”
Caleb looked at her.
“How do you know?”
“Because bad people probably don’t get thirty-seven friends.”
His throat closed.
He stared at the lights.
Maybe children understood more than adults because they had not yet learned how many ways to explain away what they already knew.
The envelope beneath the tree contained $4,860.
Cash.
Gift cards.
Checks.
A note listing no individual contributions.
Caleb immediately called Ronan.
“What did you do?”
Ronan laughed.
“Hello to you too.”
“Four thousand dollars?”
“People contributed.”
“I’m returning it.”
“No.”
“Ronan.”
“No.”
“I can’t take this.”
“You can.”
“I have savings.”
“Good.”
“Then somebody else needs it.”
“No.”
Caleb stood in the kitchen whispering so Nora would not hear.
“This is insane.”
“You’re unemployed.”
“For eight hours.”
“Still counts.”
“Some of those people have families.”
“So do you.”
“I didn’t ask.”
“That’s why we did it.”
Caleb closed his eyes.
“Ronan.”
“What?”
“I don’t know how to…”
His voice broke.
Ronan stopped joking.
“You don’t have to.”
Silence.
Then Ronan said, “You helped me when Lisa had surgery.”
“That was different.”
“You covered fourteen shifts.”
“You needed them.”
“Marissa says you paid for her hotel when her apartment flooded.”