She didn’t say anything at first, just walked slowly down the aisles while balancing the kid on her hip. She picked up a small carton of milk, a loaf of white bread, and a pack of diapers. Nothing extra.
When she came up to the counter, she set everything down gently and shifted the boy’s weight on her shoulder. He stirred a little but didn’t wake up. I scanned the items and told her the total.
“Fourteen seventy-two,” I said.
She dug through her purse with one hand, her face getting more and more tense. I watched her pull out crumpled bills, count them twice, then look up at me with eyes that were starting to glisten.
“I’m short by four dollars,” she whispered. “Can I… can I put the diapers back?”
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I didn’t even think about it. The words just came out.
“It’s fine. I’ve got it.”
She froze, staring at me like she didn’t quite believe what she’d just heard.
“It’s late,” I said softly, pulling four singles out of my own wallet and putting them in the register. “Just get home safe, okay?”