“I’m asking you not to hurt him.”

The next morning a package arrived for Tommy.

Inside was a remote-controlled sports car, expensive enough to make me wince.

Tommy drove it once around the living room and then left it by his cardboard city.

At bedtime he asked whether he could put the car away until his father came over.

I agreed.

Some things were not about money, and my son was old enough to know the difference.

PART 12