“No, Emma.”
I reached for my wallet.
“We’ll buy him some food.”
“A real meal.”
“Yes, baby. I’ll pay for everyone.”
Emma closed my fingers around the bills.
“We still need groceries.”
“A real meal.”
“I told you that money’s separate.”
“And bus fare. And the electric bill.”
I stared at her.
“You shouldn’t have to think about those things.”
“I don’t worry about them,” she said. “I just know you do.”
The man fed his last crumbs to his dog.
I stared at her.
“Fine. You can buy his lunch. I’m paying for ours.”
Emma hurried over.
“Sir?”
He looked up.
“Would you and your dog eat with us?”
His eyes moved to me.
“I don’t want trouble.”
“I’m paying for ours.”
“You’re not in trouble,” I said. “My daughter’s stubborn.”
“I’m generous,” Emma corrected.
The dog’s tail tapped against the pavement.
The man smiled.
“I’m Barry. This is Gypsy.”
