“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.
Kids at birthdays. School pictures. Holidays. Smiles frozen in time.
“Your family?” I asked.
Arthur stood by the window, looking out.
“Are you coming in or not?
“I have three kids,” he muttered. “They stopped coming.”
That was all he gave me, but it told me enough.
***
After that, I understood Arthur a little better.
And I didn’t stop bringing the food.
If anything, I showed up more.
Seven years went by like that.
Neighbors called me crazy.
Maybe I was.
“They stopped coming.
***
Then, last Tuesday came.
Arthur’s porch light wasn’t turned on as usual.
I noticed right away. When he didn’t answer my knock, I tried the handle. It was unlocked.
I stepped inside, cautiously.
“Arthur?”
Nothing.
I walked down the hallway and pushed open a door.
I found him lying in bed peacefully, as if he’d just fallen asleep. He was 80.
I tried the handle.
***
Arthur’s funeral was small. I received an invitation by mail through his lawyer.
And that’s when I finally saw his children.
Daniel, the oldest. Claire, the middle child. And Mark, the youngest.
They all wore expensive designer suits and stood together.
I overheard them whispering about their inheritance.
None of them looked at me or asked who I was.
I received an invitation.
***
After the service, a man approached me.
“Are you Kylie?”
“Yes.”
“I’m Thomas, Arthur’s lawyer. He requested your presence at the will reading this afternoon at my office at 3 p.m.”
I frowned. “Are you sure?”
Thomas gave a small nod. “Very.”
I didn’t understand why, but I showed up anyway.
***
