Day 89

He stopped to pick up a penny that had fallen to the side of the boardwalk.  It was just a penny, nothing special about it.  Not particularly shiny, in fact, he almost hadn't seen it.

She would ask, he knew, and so he kept an eye out.

"Did you find me anything today, Daddy?" Her eyes would get that special gleam.  She always saw through his attempts to just buy her something.  She wanted it, but she wanted him to find it.  He had never fully understood why she didn't want him to bring her new things.  

Once, when he had found six shiny marbles in the gutter, she had been so excited that the nurse had to come in and try to calm her down.  An abandoned key was as wonderful for her as Christmas was for most kids.

There was an old Ikea vase on the bedside table slowly filling with the flotsam and jetsam that she insisted that he bring.  He knew the nurses didn't really want it there, but she had made such a fuss when they tried to take it away that they left it just to keep the peace.  He secretly thought that one of the nurses snuck in at night to clean her treasures with hand sanitizer just to be on the safe side.

So far today, he'd only found coins: three pennies, a shiny dime, and a tiny Mexican peso.  He had no idea how a peso had ended up in the executive parking garage.  Watching out for better loot, he made his way down the boardwalk towards the T-shirt shop at the end.