Named for an angel

This is another story I wrote for creative writing. Again, the formatting on Blogger sucks.

Named for an Angel

The freckled boy went slowly. He looked at each face before choosing. Finally, he made his decision. “Can I get this one, Dad?” The boy’s father leaned close.
“You sure?”
The boy pulled the doll off the shelf and held it to his chest. “Yeah. This is the best one.”
The father and son moved to another part of the store. “You can pick any shoes you want,” The father said to son.
The boy looked slowly at each pair. He looked at red shoes and blue shoes and white shoes. “Dad?” the boy looked at his father, “Do you think it would be alright to pick two pairs? One for church and one for playing?” The father smiled at his son.
“Yes, son, that would be fine.”
The boy picked a very shiny pair of dress shoes and a really cool pair of sneakers. He put the shoes in the shopping cart.
The two continued through the store. The boy picked out a few new shirts, a couple pairs of pants, and some dress clothes. Together, father and son looked at sizes and picked out new socks and underwear.
Finally, they picked everything they needed and took their full shopping cart to the front of the store. A clerk in a red apron rang up the order. As the father was paying for the clothes, his son handed him a fistful of bills. The father looked down at the boy. His son stood with his little superhero wallet in his hand. He had removed all of the money he had saved and now handed to his father. “Son,” the father started, a bit emotional, “You don’t have to pay for anything.”
“I know, Dad,” the child responded, “but I want to buy the doll, myself.”
The father roughed up the boy’s hair and handed the bills to the cashier. The cashier smiled and gave him his receipt.
In the car, the father couldn’t help but smile at his son. He was so proud of the child sitting next to him. The father squeezed his son’s hand as he drove down a darkened street.
When they pulled up in front of the house, a neighborhood dog began to bark. The son carried the doll to the house and the father carried the new clothes. The man rang the doorbell.
A woman with bright eyes opened the door. “Gabby, your friend Michael, and his dad are here to see you.” A little girl with dark hair ran into the living room as her aunt let Michael and his father inside.
“Hi, Michael,” Gabby called cheerily.
“Hi, Gabby,” Michael said smiling, “I’m really sorry, your house burned down.”
Gabby’s eyes looked sad for only a second. Her aunt sniffed. “It’s okay,” Gabby said bravely, “We are safe and even my dog is, too.”
“That’s good,” Michael said, “My dad said all your stuff got burned up.”
“Yeah,” Gabby replied sadly.
“We brought you some nice clothes,” Michael indicated the bags his father held, “And I brought you this doll. I hope you like her, she was the most beautiful one.”
Michael’s father felt his throat constrict as Gabby took the doll from Michael. “I do,” she replied earnestly, “She is the most beautiful doll, ever.”