I worked mornings at a diner, cleaned offices in the afternoon, and did laundry at a roadside motel until midnight.
Some evenings, I stretched soup with water and crackers just to make it last. I counted spoonfuls so that each kid got enough.
Still… I always made one extra plate.
He left behind bills.
***
The first time I brought it to Arthur’s house, he barely opened the door.
“I didn’t ask for charity,” he grumbled.
“Good, because I didn’t ask if you wanted it.”
He took the plate anyway, and the following morning, it was empty.
That became our routine, but Arthur didn’t get nicer, not really.
“I didn’t ask for charity.
***
About five years into it, something changed.
I knocked as always, but that day, Arthur didn’t close the door.
“Are you coming in or not?” he called from inside.
I stepped in slowly.
The house was clean.
And the walls stopped me cold because they were covered with photos.
