Billionaire calls old friend — a black girl answers, what she says brings him to tears…

Bill had almost cried that day. Not because of the food but because of the kindness. The effortless generosity from a man who had every reason to keep what little he had.

They shared that meal on the cold stone steps of an abandoned church, and later, when Bill asked Marcus why he did it, the man simply shrugged, because I’ve been where you are, and maybe someday, you’ll be where I am. Uh, at the time, Bill couldn’t imagine being anywhere worth envying. But now, all these years later, he was the man with the view from the tope and Marcus, it seemed, had stayed behind in the shadows.

The cab pulled up to a narrow apartment complex with rust-stained brick and a sagging roof. A crooked mailbox outside read, 7B, Johnson. Bill paid the fare and stepped out, taking a slow breath.

The air smelled faintly of old fried oil and dry leaves. He walked up the cracked steps, pausing at the faded green door. He raised his hand to knock but hesitated.

The last time he’d seen Marcus, neither of them had any except, perhaps, hope. And now, Bill was here with everything, and yet unsure what to offer. Before he could knock, the door opened a crack.

A small, solemn face peeked through Maya. She was wearing a purple hoodie, too big for her frame, with the sleeves covering her hands. Her eyes lit up when she saw him.

Hi, she said simply. Bill knelt slightly to meet her eye level. Hi, Maya.

Is your grandmother home? She’s making tea, Maya whispered, then added. She wasn’t sure if you’d really come. I wasn’t either, Bill murmured.

Maya pushed the door open wider. The apartment was small two rooms, a narrow kitchen, and furniture that had seen better decades. On the walls were faded photos of Marcus, in a work uniform, holding Maya as a toddler, and one particularly old picture of him and Bill on that church stoop, both laughing over a styrofoam cup.

Bill froze. Where did you get that? Maya turned. Daddy kept it in his wallet.

He said it was the day his whole life changed. Bill looked closer. He remembered it now after that meal.

Marcus had convinced someone at a corner store to take their picture with a disposable camera, to prove we survived. Marcus had joked. From the kitchen, a soft voice called out.

Maya, who is it? Maya turned. It’s Mr. Harper, footstep shuffled. And an older woman emerged, a tall, regal woman with silver-streaked hair pulled into a bun and tired eyes that still held pride.

She wore a housecoat and slippers, and her expression was wary but not unkind. You must be Bill, she said, arms crossed. I’m Evelyn, Marcus’s mother.

Bill extended his hand. It’s good to meet you, Mrs. Johnson. She didn’t shake his hand immediately.

Instead, she studied him for a moment searching, perhaps, for the boy Marcus once helped. Then, slowly, she nodded. Come in, I’ll pour some tea.

The three of them sat in the modest living room. A teapot hissed on the stove. Maya curled up on the arm of the couch, hugging a stuffed rabbit with one missing ear.

Evelyn served the tea with practiced grace. Marcus used to talk about you, she said without looking up. Said you were a scrappy white boy with fire in your eyes and holes in your shoes.

Bill smiled faintly. That sounds about right. He said you’d gone on to do big things.

Computers, right? Yes, ma’am. She sipped her tea. So what brings you here now, after all this time? Bill hesitated.

I didn’t know. I didn’t know he was still here, alive. I only found his letter last week.

Aye, he trailed off. How could he explain that the world had swallowed him whole and he’d let it? That he’d left behind the one person who never turned his back? Evelyn saved him from answering. Marcus didn’t hold grudges, she said.

But he never begged either. That letter, it wasn’t a plea. It was a father’s last hope.

Bill looked down at the teacup in his hand. I’d like to help, he said finally. Whatever you need.

For Maya. For you. Evelyn studied him again.

You think this is about guilt? Bill didn’t answer. She set her cup down. Then don’t come here with guilt.

Come with purpose. Marcus believed in people. He believed in you.

If you really want to help Maya, don’t do it from a distance. I don’t intend to, Maya stirred. Are you staying for dinner? Bill blinked.

The question caught him off guard. Evelyn raised an eyebrow. She makes a mean grilled cheese…