Brian was quite a disappointment to his mother. She wanted nothing more for her son than a wife and children, and he chose to be a lonely and proud programmer, make a lot of money, live for himself and travel. He always had money, helped his mother a lot, often did charity work, donating to the disabled and shelters with homeless animals, but he always treated children with some dislike, if not hatred.
He hated children’s cries, their sobs and rants, and he himself could not imagine that one day he would be a father. That was why he preferred short-term relationships, no seriousness and certainly no children. He promoted the idea of the “Childfree,” proving to his friends and family that living without the weight on your shoulders was much better, and that there was no need to worry about old age and “a glass of water” if you had enough money.
One day he came home from a little unscheduled travel, hoping that nothing had time to bloom in the refrigerator, but there were spoiled foods anyway. Some brown bananas, overly soft pears, and expired convenience foods, among them fish sticks, cheesecakes, and burgers. Brian packed it all into a box, planning to throw it out as soon as possible. Already out on the stairwell, he bumped into the two sisters who were sitting on the steps. The door to the next apartment was ajar and there was crying coming from there. Brian wasn’t completely callous, stopping to see if everything was okay.
– It’s just that Mommy is crying because Grandpa doesn’t want to move,” the six-year-old girl stated very earnestly.
– He doesn’t “want to,” he can’t, he’s paralyzed,” corrected the younger girl. – And what are you talking about? You do not need it?
Brian showed them the food he was going to take out, and the girls started begging him to give them the stale fruit. The fruit was still quite possible to eat, and semi-finished products do not spoil at all. But Brian was undeterred, afraid of poisoning the children, and took the garbage outside. When he returned to the apartment, he looked out the window without a backward thought and unwittingly witnessed the sisters dragging the box back, already chewing pears.
A lump rose in his throat. While the girls made their way upstairs, he gathered up a bag of noodles and porridge, put in the fresh bread he had brought with him and candy, and shoved it to his older sister when they were outside their apartment. He might have considered the children an unnecessary burden, but there was no way he could get past the needy.
Afterwards, he would visit the neighbors more than once and talk to their mother, sometimes he would feed his paralyzed grandfather instead of his daughter, and he would check on the girls’ homework. He still didn’t want children of his own, but he found some kind of outlet in other people’s children. They certainly turned him around, changed something in him…
