Then Tyler Came Home With a Truck

Kayla heard the engine before she saw it.

She was making coffee when Tyler walked into the kitchen holding a set of keys.

“Come outside.”

Their mother was grinning.

Their father followed.

In the driveway sat a used black pickup truck.

Not brand-new.

But not cheap.

Kayla looked at Tyler.

“You bought a truck?”

He smiled.

“Finally.”

“How much?”

Her mother immediately said:

“That’s none of your business.”

Kayla laughed.

“I was just asking.”

Tyler opened the driver’s door.

“Seventeen-five.”

Kayla blinked.

“Seventeen thousand five hundred?”

“Yeah.”

She knew Tyler’s finances.

At least roughly.

There was no way he’d saved that much.

“So you got a loan?”

Tyler hesitated.

Their father answered:

“We helped.”

Kayla looked at him.

“How much?”

Her mother cut in again.

“Kayla.”

Something about her tone made Kayla suspicious.

The Explanation Didn’t Make Sense

Later that evening, Kayla asked her father privately.

“How much did you guys give Tyler?”

He sighed.

“Why does it matter?”

“I’m curious.”

“We helped with the down payment.”

“How much?”

“Enough.”

Kayla smiled.

“That usually means a lot.”

Her father became defensive.

“He needs the truck for work.”

Kayla nodded.

“Okay.”

“And it will help him become more independent.”

“Okay.”

Her father relaxed.

Then Kayla asked:

“So now that he’s working toward independence, is he paying rent too?”

Her father’s face changed.

“Don’t start.”

That answer annoyed her more than the truck.