My 13-Year-Old Son Took a Dishwashing Job Without Telling Me — Then His Boss Called and Asked, "Do You Know What He Does With Every Paycheck?" / Chapter 2 / 7

Chapter 2 - The EnvelopeWhen I rushed into the diner, the first thing I noticed was a metal bus tub overturned on the floor. Miles stood in the middle of the mess. His apron was soaked, one sleeve twisted at the shoulder, his cheeks red from arguing. Across from him, an older man held one end of a white envelope. Miles held the other.

"Give it back, Cal!"

"No."

"It's mine!"

"Exactly," Cal snapped. "That's why I'm not taking it."

Mr. Castellano spotted me near the entrance. "Ma'am… thank God."

Miles spun around. The instant he saw me, he released the envelope. "Mom?"

"What's going on?"

Nobody answered. I pointed at the envelope. "Is that your paycheck?"

"Yes."

"And why was Cal holding it?"

Cal tossed it onto the counter. "Because your son tried giving me every cent."

"What?" I turned to Miles.

"It's not like that," he muttered.

Cal folded his arms. "Then tell her what it's like."

"Stay out of it," Miles snapped.

"Miles," I said sharply. He fell silent.

I picked up the paycheck. "Miles, why would you give Cal your money?"

"Because I owed him."

Cal slapped his palm on the counter. "There! That's what he keeps saying."

"I did owe you," Miles argued.

"For what?"

"For helping me."

"You helped me carry twelve boxes of potatoes last month. Am I supposed to sign over my Social Security?"

"That's different."

"Why?"

"Because it is."

I looked at Mr. Castellano. "Can someone please tell me what's happening?"

He leaned against the register. "How much do you think Miles has saved toward that bicycle?"

The question caught me off guard. "I don't know. He keeps saying he's almost there."

He nodded slowly. "That's what he tells us too."

Miles's expression changed. "Don't."

Mr. Castellano ignored him. "You know how many paychecks he's actually kept in six months?"

I waited.

"One," he said. "The first one."

For a moment I thought I'd misheard. "One?"

"The first one."

I turned to Miles. "Where did the others go?"

"Mom—"

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"Where?"

He didn't answer. That silence worried me more than the overturned dishes.

Chapter 3 - The MapMiles had wanted that used mountain bike for nearly a year. The first time he showed it to me, I'd offered to help pay. "No. I want to earn it myself, Mom." At the time, I'd been proud of him. He was ten when we lost his father, Gary. After that, he rarely asked me for anything.

Chapter 4 - Mason TireMiles sat stiffly beside me as we drove toward Mason Tire. I remembered that place clearly. Gary had been gone four months when our old sedan got a flat during a freezing February rain. I drove there expecting a simple patch. Twenty minutes later, the owner told me another tire was nearly bald.

Chapter 5 - Dad Would've RememberedMiles looked genuinely confused. I stared at the envelope, then unfolded the bus map again. Tire shop. Barber. Grocery store. A street near his old elementary school. People. Places. Dollar amounts.

Chapter 6 - The Bike PathSo I drove Miles to Gary's favorite park. We sat beside the bike path with his battered bus map between us.

Chapter 7 - Best: 38 SecMonths later, he finally bought the used bike. One afternoon at the park, Miles stopped to fix a younger kid's fallen chain.

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