“How much more?”
“Eight hundred dollars more.”
My mouth fell open.
“You refused eight hundred dollars?”
“I only needed enough for the chair.”
Rebecca smiled faintly.
“My brother thought you were either the strangest kid he’d ever met or you had stolen the guitar.”
Julian grimaced.
“That explains the twenty questions.”
“He checked the serial number. He called me because of the Vance name. When I heard why you’d sold it…”
Her eyes became wet.
“I remembered your father.”
Julian stared down at the table.
For years, he had tried to resemble Thomas in small ways.
He used his father’s old coffee mug even though he drank cocoa from it.
He wore one of Thomas’s old baseball caps despite it being too large.
But this was different.
This wasn’t imitation.
Julian had done something without knowing that his father had once been drawn toward the same problem.
