“Not recently.”
I looked through the pharmacy window, although I already knew it was closed, then across the street toward a small twenty-four-hour diner whose windows glowed against the wet pavement.
My fingers went into my pocket before my common sense could stop them.
When I pulled out the folded ten-dollar bill, I hesitated.
I saw bread.
Bus fare.
Breakfast.
Then I looked at him again.
“There’s a diner across the street,” I said, placing the bill into his hand. “Please get something hot.”
He stared at the money and then at me.
“Young lady, I can see that you have two babies.”
“They’re fine.”
“Can you actually spare this?”
That question nearly changed my mind because the truthful answer was no.
Instead, I pulled the stroller cover more tightly around Lily’s side and gave him the bravest smile I could manage.
“Tonight, I think you need it more.”
