Finally, as dark farmland stretched along both sides of the highway, he asked:
“How much money do we have saved?”
“Six thousand two hundred dollars.”
“And our rent?”
“Seintecientos veinticinco al mes.”
Él asintió.
Then he removed the bluebird card from his pocket and placed it on the dashboard.
“I’m not upset with Kim or the others,” he said.
“I know.”
“And I understand Mom and Dad meant well.”
I reached for his hand.
After a moment, Nate gave a sad smile.
“I guess I’d just like somebody to worry about us once in a while.”
I laughed softly.
Then my eyes filled with tears.
A few miles later, he spoke again.
“We need extra work.”
Nate was a diesel mechanic. During harvest season, farmers frequently needed emergency repairs late at night.
“I can take field-service calls,” he explained. “There’s good money when equipment breaks down during harvest.”
