“What position do I play?”
His smile faltered.
“Football.”
“What position?”
Silence.
I asked another question.
“What colleges am I applying to?”
He couldn’t answer.
Then I pointed toward Ray.
“What subject did I almost fail last year?”
My biological father’s expression hardened.
“How would I know?”
“You wouldn’t.”
He pushed the keys toward me again.
“I know I missed things. That’s why I’m here. I’m trying to make up for lost time.”
“With a car?”
“It’s a good beginning.”
Then he glanced at Ray.
“Better than whatever he gave you.”
I turned around.
“Wait here.”
I walked inside and picked up the wooden box.
When I returned, my father actually laughed.
“That’s what he gave you?”
I opened it.
“No.”
I pulled out the bank statements.
“This is what he gave me.”
I showed him the handwritten notes.
*Boots can wait.*
*Truck service next month.*
*Brought lunch all week.*
Then the one about Danny needing glasses.
My father frowned.
“What am I looking at?”
“My college fund.”
