“This is Arthur,” the man said, mustering a smile for his son. “I’m Matthew.” He squeezed his son’s hand. “Wren is going to take our picture today, Art.”
“Do you want to help me take a picture of your daddy first?”
Arthur nodded, the hedgehog never leaving the vicinity of his mouth.
“Okay. I’m going to teach you and Miss Sandra here,” she nodded at Sandra who smiled and waved at Arthur, “how to take a good picture. Matthew, can I get you to sit in the folding chair right over there?”
Matthew nodded and leaned down. “Okay, buddy, this’ll be fun. Go ahead.” He let go of his son’s hand and crossed the room. Sandra meanwhile grabbed an extra chair for Arthur to stand on behind the camera. Wren stood and helped the little boy up onto the chair.
“Now, look at your daddy on this screen.” Wren tapped on the camera. Arthur hesitated. Then Matthew crossed his eyes and stuck out his tongue. His face went from sad to goofy, then straight to genuine joy as his son’s giggle bubbled into laughter.
Arthur dropped the hand holding the stuffed hedgehog. “Do it again, Daddy!”
Matthew obliged and Wren showed Arthur where to press the button to take the photo.
“Got it!” She smiled at Arthur and pointed to the laptop on the little table beside her. “Here comes the photo you took on the big screen. Can you see it?”
Matthew’s face popped up on the screen, eliciting another round of laughter from Arthur.
“Let’s take a couple more, and then will you let me take your picture too?”
Arthur nodded enthusiastically. They took a few more silly pictures of Matthew, then Wren told him to go sit with his dad. Arthur hopped down from the chair and darted across the room to his dad’s big smile and open arms. In the first couple of photos, both of them smiled for the camera. But as the camera kept snapping, Matthew’s self-consciousness faded and his expression settled into the same, somber look he had on his face when he walked in. The very one Wren wanted to capture. Sandra was off to the side, holding a reflector to soften the shadows, one eye on Wren, waiting for cues. Wren nodded for her to put the reflector down.
There. That’s the one. Same expressions, but with sharp shadows behind them now, menacing.
“And, I think we’re done.” Wren straightened up and smiled at Matthew and Arthur. “Thanks so much for being so patient.”
Matthew nodded as he stood, gently slipping his son off his lap. “Just so long as people know what’s happening. Maybe we can spare someone else.” He turned to his son, who had run over to Kit for a candy bar reward. “Ready to go, bud? Daddy’s got to get to work.”
Arthur scampered to his dad’s side.
“What do we say?”
“Thank you,” Arthur shouted as they left the room.
“Thank you,” Kit said. “Both of you.”
Arthur smiled and waved goodbye. All three women waved and smiled back. The moment he was out of view, their smiles faded.
“Can I ask what their story is?” Sandra said as she walked to the laptop where Kit had already joined Wren. “I mean, I know they lost their home, but what happened?”
Kit nodded. “It’s a sad one. They’re living in a room upstairs right now, and lucky to get it. Matt and Arthur used to live in a lovely home in Centennial with Matt’s wife, Lena. Right up until she got sick.”
“Oh no.” Wren’s stomach clenched.
“Congenital heart disease. She had a defect that went undetected until she was twenty-seven. By then, her heart valves were shot. She had great insurance through her job, went to the hospital, had surgery, and it looked like everything would be all right.” Kit dropped her gaze to the images on the laptop. “Unfortunately, after she went home, she had a stroke. She ended up back in the hospital, but she was in a vegetative state. Too much damage from a brain bleed. She lasted just over a month before she passed.”
Sandra covered her mouth. “That poor little boy. And Matthew, too.”
“Medical bills?” Wren asked.
Kit’s gaze snapped to hers, knowing what she was really asking. “Exactly. Matt thought he was keeping up with them, but somehow missed a payment, lost the low interest rate, and it snowballed from there. The hospital refused to work with him.”
“They lost their home,” Wren whispered, fighting back hot tears.
“They did.”
Wren felt nauseous and dizzy as old memories surfaced. She was about to excuse herself and find a bathroom when Sandra’s phone chimed.
