“So what, you’re going to sue me over a bicycle?”
“I haven’t decided what I’m going to do.”
He shook his head.
“This is ridiculous.”
“I was going to deal with it myself.”
“Then why haven’t you?”
I looked across the street.
Jake was already mowing Mrs. Collins’s lawn.
“Apparently my son got there first.”
Over the next week, Jake seemed to be everywhere.
Every afternoon after homework, he had a small job.
Saturday was packed.
Sunday afternoon was too.
Nobody simply handed him money.
I was glad about that.
They gave him work.
Jake came home dirty, tired, and increasingly proud of the total in his notebook.
Gary’s lawn, meanwhile, kept growing.
One afternoon, I came outside and found him fighting with his mower.
He pulled the starter cord.
Nothing.
Again.
Nothing.
Jake happened to be walking home carrying a rake.
Gary looked at him.
Jake stopped.
“Don’t.”
Gary frowned.
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You were going to.”
“I was going to say good afternoon.”
Jake nodded.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Gary.”
Then he kept walking.
I turned away before either of them saw me laughing.
Later that evening, Gary knocked on our door.
I opened it.
“We need to talk.”
“About?”
He glanced toward the living room, where Jake was doing homework.
“The bike.”
I stepped onto the porch and closed the door behind me.
Gary shoved his hands into his pockets.
“I didn’t mean to run over it.”
“I know.”
“I wasn’t driving recklessly.”
“I never said you were.”
“Then why is everyone acting like I deliberately destroyed the kid’s bike?”
“They aren’t.”
“It feels like it.”
“Maybe because every time you see Jake working, you’re reminded why he’s working.”
Gary looked away.
I let the silence sit there.
Finally, he said, “How much did that bike cost?”
I told him.
He winced slightly.
“Seriously?”
“He saved almost a year.”
Gary looked through the front window.
Jake was bent over his math homework.
“He really bought the whole thing himself?”
“Yeah. Every dollar.”
“I thought you helped him.”
“No.”
Gary was quiet again.
“He never told me that.”
“You never asked.”
That ended the conversation.
Gary went home.
The next afternoon, Jake was washing Mr. Harper’s car when Gary walked across the street.
I was in the garage and watched him approach.
Jake shut off the hose.
“Hi.”
Gary nodded toward his bucket.
“How much have you saved?”
Jake told him.
“And how much was the bike?”
Jake gave him the number.
Gary took a breath.
“Stop saving.”
Jake frowned.
“What?”
“I’ll pay for the bike.”
Jake immediately shook his head.
“I’m not taking a gift from you.”
Gary looked genuinely surprised.
“It’s not a gift.”
“I don’t want you buying me something because everybody’s mad at you.”
“I’m not.”
“Then why now?”
Gary glanced toward me.
I stayed where I was.
This was between them.
Finally, he looked back at Jake.
“I backed over your bike. That was an accident.”
Jake waited.
