Then his eyes landed on the repayment proposal again.
“Two hundred fifty?”
“Yes.”
“I can do that.”
June felt something loosen.
“Good.”
“You’re really going to make me pay you back.”
“I’m going to let you.”
He frowned at the wording.
June did not explain.
Before leaving, Ethan stood near the front door.
“Do you still have the quilt?”
“Yes.”
“Can I see it?”
June hesitated.
Then nodded.
She led him upstairs.
The spare bedroom light was off.
June turned it on.
The quilt lay across the bed.
Ethan stopped in the doorway.
For a moment, he did not move.
Then he walked closer.
He touched the red flannel square.
“I wore this every Saturday.”
“Yes.”
“Dad hated this shirt.”
“He said it looked like a lumberjack lost a fight.”
Ethan smiled.
His fingers moved to the hockey jersey.
“I thought you threw this out.”
“I almost did.”
He touched the curtain fabric.
“Oh my God.”
June smiled.
“You remember.”
“I hated those curtains.”
“You chose them.”
“I was six.”
“That does not erase responsibility.”
