December 2022

The narrator finally has enough money to buy the tea set she’s coveted—but at what cost? I should have felt excited, but I didn’t. My mom slid into the driver’s seat and started the engine. I didn’t look at her. I couldn’t. I knew that if I did, all of my bottled-up guilt would come pouring out. “Y’all excited?” she asked me and my brothers. “Yeah!” my four-year-old brother, Thor, replied. “Ma-ma,” my youngest brother, Scott, said in broken-up syllables. He was newly one and had just begun to learn how to speak and toddle around. “Mm-hm,” I said. My eyes fell to my lap when she looked at me. I fidgeted in my seat. “I still can’t believe you saved up your money this quickly,” she said to me. I couldn’t help thinking I didn’t. Throughout the car drive, my palms grew sweaty and clammy. I was caught between crying and bursting into nervous giggles. The two-minute drive felt like two hours. I couldn’t speak for fear of letting my secret out. When we arrived at the toy store, Thor was wiggling in his seat and screaming “I’m gonna get the best toy before you!” Scott was completely oblivious to where we were and why we were there. He rocked back and forth in his car seat, sucking his thumb. My mom patiently unbuckled his seatbelt and then moved on to her own. “I’ll wait for you at the checkout counter, okay?” my mom said. “You go get that tea set while I watch Scott.” I nodded, careful to avoid her eyes. I walked into the store, turned the corner, and stopped. I had seen the tea set so many times, but I hadn’t had the money for it until now. I walked up to it and double-checked the price tag, even though I had memorized what it said the moment I first saw it. Twenty-one dollars and ninety-nine cents. Twenty-one dollars and ninety-nine cents I hadn’t had until a couple of days ago. All at once, waves of guilt and remorse crashed inside me, and their blow was harder than anything I had ever felt before. There was nothing I could do to stop it. I remembered how stealing the money felt. I remembered cautiously reaching my hand to the back of the drawer, my fingers clenching around the thin paper. I remembered the guilt I felt as I counted out ten dollars. I remembered peeking around the corner to make sure the coast was clear. I remembered how the guilt consumed me as I slipped the money into my wallet. Didn’t I pay all that money? And for what? The tea set was mine. I had paid for it. Hadn’t I? I looked again at the tea set. It was complete with pink-and-white cups, saucers, a teapot, and even a sugar bowl, all in a small wicker basket, perfect for carrying anywhere. How could a six-year-old girl like me not want it? But then again, how could a six-year-old girl like me stand knowing what she had done to get it? I gritted my teeth and picked the tea set up, excitement, fear, and guilt burning like a raging fire in my stomach. I told myself to put it back, but I couldn’t. My greedy, excited body turned toward the cash register, and my stubborn feet started to walk. My guilty hands put it on the checkout counter. Everything was in slow motion as my mother counted out twenty-two dollars and the cashier put them into the cash register. “Boys, time to go!” my mom called over her shoulder. Everything sped back into regular time. I walked in disbelief back to our car. I had gotten away with it. I had actually done what I had never dreamed of doing. The tea set was mine. The twenty-one dollars and ninety-nine cents had been paid. The funny thing was, I didn’t seem to want the tea set anymore. I shook my head. Don’t be silly, I told myself. The tea set is yours! You still want it, don’t you? Didn’t you save all that money for this tea set, and now you don’t want it? That one question rang in my head. Didn’t I pay all that money? And for what? The tea set was mine. I had paid for it. Hadn’t I? No. I hadn’t. That tea set was not mine, and only I knew it. All the way home, the secret bubbled up inside me, up and up. Every time it bubbled up, it was harder for me to push it back down again. When we reached home, I picked up the bag the tea set was in. The plastic felt cold and unforgiving against my warm and sweaty palms. I tightened my grip and told my feet to move. My guilt propelled them forward, making me move faster than usual. I needed to get somewhere where I could hide alone, just me and my guilt. I wanted to stuff the tea set under my bed and never see it again. But that would seem suspicious. Usually when we got new toys, we played with them nonstop until bedtime. What would my mom think if she saw me not playing with it? What would she do then? What would I do then? On the Other Side of the Wall Once I got inside, I sat down on one of the kitchen stools. The cold metal pressed against my thighs, sending chills through my body. My hands gripped the sides of the stool, and I rocked back and forth. My eyes were glued to the tea set sitting on the island. I pushed down tears and forced myself to keep breathing. I tried my hardest to breathe normally. My mom walked past me into the office. I peeked around the corner and saw her open a drawer. The same drawer I had “borrowed” ten dollars from a week ago. She pulled out a pack of bills,