PART 3: The Gift
The next morning, my son made me a cup of tea and asked if we could go pick up the wheelchair.
“It’s ready at the hospital, Mom,” he said. “Can we go? And then drop it off at Elena’s house? It’s going to be a surprise because… I didn’t say anything to her about it.”
“What about her parents, honey? Won’t they be upset that you meddled?” I asked, already slipping on my shoes.
“I don’t think they can be mad. They couldn’t help her right now, so I did. I’m not blaming them. It’s just that… she needed it.”
When we reached their home, Elena opened the door in her old, squeaking chair and went completely still when she saw Alejandro.
He cleared his throat nervously. “Hey, Elena. I…”
She looked from him to the large box in my hands and back again. “What’s that?”
He glanced at me once, then back at her. “It’s a new wheelchair for you.”
Her mouth fell open, and her eyes widened in complete shock. “What?!”
Jillian, her mother, appeared behind her, wiping her hands on a dish towel. “Elena, who’s…” She stopped dead, staring at the box.
Alejandro put the box down so fast he nearly dropped it. “Your old one was bad,” he said, his ears turning bright red. “I mean, not bad bad, just… it wasn’t working right. And I found one, and I thought maybe…”
Elena’s eyes filled with tears so suddenly that my chest ached. “You bought me a wheelchair?” she whispered.
Alejandro looked deeply embarrassed. “Yeah.”
“How?”
He hesitated, unable to find the words, so I answered for him. “He sold his guitar, sweetie.”
Jillian pressed a hand over her mouth, a gasp slipping out. Elena stared at him as if he had handed her the moon. “Why would you do that? You love playing guitar, Alejandro.”
My son shrugged, his favorite move whenever he had done something huge and wanted to act like it was nothing. “Because you needed it, Elena.”
