Gemotions

A package arrived for "Ms. Eleanor Vance," the name that had been on the lease before him. He knew better than to open it, legally, but something told him to just take a peek. Inside, nestled in the packing paper, was a framed photograph. It was a picture of a smiling woman holding a baby. He recognized the woman; the baby was the girl in the upstairs flat. The photo sat on his kitchen table for days.

The next time he saw the mother, he approached her, picture in hand. "I believe this is yours," he said, handing it over. Her eyes widened, tears welling. She held the photo to her chest, whispering thank you. That evening, he felt a lightness in his chest, a sense of rightness he hadn't known he was missing. He made a bigger dinner than usual, a roast chicken with all the trimmings.