“My son loves your daughter. He’s kind, intelligent, and treats her like she hung the moon. Isn’t that enough?”
Farlow smiled coldly.
“Love doesn’t pay bills, Sam. It certainly doesn’t fulfill dreams.”
Christmas Eve finally arrived.
We gathered in their enormous living room beside a towering Christmas tree that nearly touched the ceiling.
Marta distributed gifts with mechanical politeness while Farlow watched us carefully, still trying to determine exactly how poor we were.
I had reached my limit.
I pulled an envelope from my jacket pocket.
“Eddy,” I said, “I know you and Will plan to move to New York after graduation. Finding a place there isn’t easy, so I wanted to help.”
Marta laughed sharply.
“Help? What could you possibly—”
Her eyes narrowed at the envelope.
“What is that? A list of shelters? Roommate ads? A thrift store coupon?”
“Open it,” I said.
