My Teen Son Sold His Guitar to Buy a New Wheelchair for His Classmate – The Next Day, Officers Showed up at Our Door

My mouth went dry. “Yes, I am.”

The second officer glanced past me. “We’re Officers Daniels and Cooper. Is your son here?”

My stomach dropped so hard it hurt. “Why? What happened?”

Before either of them answered, David came into the hall behind me.

Somebody pounded on my front door hard enough to rattle the frame.

Officer Daniels looked at him, then back at me. “Ma’am, are you aware of what your son did yesterday?”

My hand shot to the doorframe. “What’s going on?”

David went pale. “Mom…”

Officer Daniels lifted a hand. “He’s not under arrest.”

That should have helped, but it didn’t.

“Then why are you here?” I snapped.

Officer Cooper shifted awkwardly. “Because what your son did reached people, ma’am. Someone wants to thank him.”

“What’s going on?”

I turned toward David. He looked like he might pass out.

“Shoes,” I said.

“What?”

“Let’s put on some shoes, baby. If this turns into a nightmare, you’re not doing it in socks.”

A minute later, we stepped onto the porch.

There was a patrol car at the curb.

And next to it stood Nathan, hat in his hands, looking like a man who hadn’t slept at all.

“If this turns into a nightmare, you’re not doing it in socks.”