Yeah, he’d picked up on that much. He was twelve, not two. And he resented that his mother didn’t seem to think he could understand things. He did understand. He heard and saw and understood. Dad had died broke. He’d racked up debts that Matt’s mom hadn’t even known about. There was no money. There were payments due. And the funeral had cost a bundle. He got all that.

“I know the money situation isn’t good, Mom. And I could see selling the guns, the tools, the computer. But geeze, Mom, his clothes?”

“It was either sell them or give them away. And we need every penny right now. Christmas is coming.”

And that was Mom. She wasn’t worried about bills or taxes or losing the house or the car or even paying for the funeral. She was worried because Christmas was coming.

“We don’t need Christmas this year,” he told her. “We’re not gonna feel like celebrating anyway.”

“Oh, you’re so wrong, Matt. We need Christmas this year more than ever.”

He rolled his eyes, but thought about his kid sister, Cindy. She was only six, and yeah, she probably did need Christmas. But he didn’t.

“There must be something you want for Christmas, Matt,” his mother pressed on. “One gift. One special gift that could make this time a little bit easier for you. There is something, isn’t there? Tell me.”

He pursed his lips, cleared his throat because he didn’t want her to hear his grief in his voice. He was fine. But…

“Yeah, there is something. Or was. Dad’s hat.”

“His hat?” She blinked, still blank, but a little less so. “That silly felt fedora he was always wearing?”

Matt nodded. “He used to joke about that hat being my inheritance. Anytime we were doing anything fun, he would be wearing it. Don’t you remember? It was like—I don’t know, it was like his trademark, that stupid hat. It meant a lot to him. Remember how he wrote his initials in it in permanent purple marker when we went on vacation, just it case it got lost?” He paused there, remembering the road trip, the theme park, the fun. And that hat, at the center of it all. “I want Dad’s hat, Mom. It’s a part of him.”