“That does not answer my question,” I replied.
Ethan looked down at his scuffed shoes. “My second wife left me.”
“I am sorry to hear that,” I said.
“She took everything I had,” Ethan pleaded. “I am drowning in debt.”
“Why are you telling me this?” I asked.
“The bank took my house last month,” Ethan said. “I am living out of my car.”
“Where is your car?” I asked.
“It is parked down the street,” Ethan said. “The engine barely runs.”
I crossed my arms over my chest. “You chose to leave us twenty years ago.”
“I know I made a mistake,” Ethan cried. “I was young and stupid.”
“You left two blind infants behind,” I said. “You walked away from your own flesh and blood.”
“I was afraid,” Ethan said. “I did not want to ruin my life.”
“And now your life is ruined anyway,” I replied.
Ethan wiped a tear from his dirty cheek. “Please help me.”
“Help you do what?” I asked.
“I just need a place to stay for a few days,” Ethan begged. “I need some money to get back on my feet.”
“You want my money?” I asked.
“Just a small loan,” Ethan said. “I will pay you back every cent.”
“I know I do,” Ethan sobbed. “I will work hard and pay it all.”
“You have a lot of nerve coming to this house today,” I said.
“I saw the balloons tied to the mailbox,” Ethan said. “I knew it was their birthday.”
“You do not get to mention their birthday,” I replied.
“Please,” Ethan begged. “I am starving and I have nothing left.”
“You had a family,” I said. “You threw us away like garbage.”
“I regret it every single day of my miserable life,” Ethan said.
“Regret does not pay the bills,” I replied. “Regret did not teach my sons how to read Braille.”
“I am so sorry,” Ethan cried. “Please do not turn me away.”
“I am begging you,” Ethan said. “I have no one else in this world.”
I looked past his trembling shoulders at the rusty sedan parked on the street. He truly had lost everything.
“I am completely at your mercy,” Ethan whispered.
Ethan stood on my porch begging for mercy, and I realized the power to destroy or save him rested entirely in my hands.
My throat went dry.
I looked at the broken man standing on my porch.
I hesitated for a brief second.
But I knew exactly what I needed to do.
“Okay, Ethan,” I said firmly.
“I will help you with a place to stay.”
“I will even give you money for food.”
He let out a loud, heavy breath.
“Thank you so much,” he whispered.
“You have no idea how much this means.”
“But I have one strict condition,” I continued.
“If you do not agree to it, you can turn around.”
“You can walk right back to your car.”
He lowered his tired, bloodshot eyes.
“What condition?” he asked quietly.
“You will not come in here asking for handouts,” I replied.
“You will come in as the man who owes his sons the truth.”
He shook his head slowly.
“I do not understand what you mean,” he mumbled.
