I push aside worn shirts looking for my suit. I hate going to these “parties”, but not as much as I hate wearing a suit and tie. I’ll get over it—always do—but the thing is… well, as usual, we’re so broke we can’t pay attention.

The car’s got less than a quarter tank in it, and I got a buck or three to my name until payday. I couldn’t sleep last night, but her! She just gave my shoulder a pat, then slipped right off to dreamland. Then, as I was finally drifting off to sleep, I heard Mom’s voice; “Don’t worry, Charlie. God will provide.” I groaned and answered out loud, “Sure, Mom. Is He gonna leave a twenty under my pillow?”

Then! Tonight, we’re getting ready and when I shove my wallet into the inside pocket of my suit jacket I feel something. “No way,” I whisper. But yes way! I pull the wallet out, reach back in, and stare at a folded twenty-dollar bill.

She’s in front of the mirror, checking her hair—again—and I grin at her.

“What?” she says, returning the grin.

I give her a playful pat—not on the shoulder—and say, “You look gorgeous. But come on, we have to stop for gas.”

Copyright © 2013 C Mashburn