“I think about both.”
Before I could answer, she stopped.
An older man sat against the brick wall near the alley. A thin brown dog rested its chin on his knee.
The man held one piece of bread.
“I listen when you worry, Mom.”
He tore it in half and gave the larger piece to the dog.
“Why’d he do that?” Emma asked.
“Because he loves her.”
“But he’s hungry too.”
“Sometimes loving someone means pretending you’re less hungry than you are.”
Emma opened her purse.
“Because he loves her.”
“No, Emma.”
“I didn’t do anything.”
“You were going to use your boot money.”
“He needs lunch.”
“And you need dry feet.”
She looked at the split sole.
“He needs food more. I’ll be okay.”
