Page 28 of No More Billionaires

The tiny boy and the tall, broad-shouldered man made a rather unlikely pair of insta-friends, but they both burst into laughter as they tried the handshake, messed it up, and started over again.

My heart squeezed in the kind of brief, painful-sweet contraction I only ever experienced during emotional movie scenes or romance-novel breakups.

The front door opened, allowing me to tear my eyes away from the too-touching picture.

“Hi—Mrs. Webster? I’m Kenley Carpenter with WNN news.”

“Oh yes. Come on in. This cold is unbelievable, isn’t it? I told Benji he could only play outside for fifteen minutes while he waited for y’all to arrive. He’s hoping for lots of snow. Benji?”

She stuck her head out of the door to look for him.

He dashed past me and his mother’s legs into the warm house. “I’m getting my sword,” he called out.

“Don’t run.” Mrs. Webster turned to us. “Well, I guess you met him already. Did he talk to you? He’s so excited about his interview, but he can be a little shy.”

Larson stood and came to my side at the door. “We did. I’m Larson. It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Webster.”

“Call me Nicole. Course I recognize you from the news—we watch you all the time. My husband, Sam, should be home any minute. He went in to work for a few hours this morning.”

“No problem. It’ll take us a while to get set up anyway,” I said, stepping inside with Nicole while Larson went back to help Sky bring in the equipment. “Is Benji excited to skip a day of school?”

“Hewisheshe could go to school. We can’t take the chance of him getting even a common cold with his condition, so I homeschool him. He’s always talking about when he’ll get to go to ‘real school.’”

My footsteps slowed behind her as she led me to the open kitchen/living room area. I hadn’t quite realized before then how very sick this happy, healthy-lookingboy actually was.

When Sam arrived, he and Nicole took a seat in the family’s living room where Sky had set up the lights and camera. They were side-by-side on the sofa, with Benji playing on the floor nearby. Larson had pulled a dining chair into the room and set it up facing them, an arrangement that allowed Sky to shoot over his shoulder so the Websters could look at Larson as they answered his questions and still be facing the lens.

He led the couple gently into the interview. “Why don’t you start by telling me how you first discovered Benji had a congenital heart defect.”

“We knew before he was born. The ultrasound showed there was a problem.” Nicole’s expression fell.

Oh God, she’s going to cry—right off the bat.

My own nose tingled with the prickling threat of impending tears. I absolutely could not help myself whenever I saw someone else cry. Not very professional, but I couldn’t seem to stop it.

“After he was born, we found out it was much, much worse than they’d thought.”

Her eyes filled, and her husband’s arm went around her shoulders. “He had his first open heart surgery when he was two days old. His little heart was the size of a walnut, and they told us… they prepared us for him not to make it.”

She stopped and regained control of herself, her face brightening a shade. “But he did. He’s our miracle boy.”

Benji piped up from his corner where he’d been playing with some toy trucks, seemingly not paying any attention to us.

“I have a special heart!”

And there went my tear ducts. I turned away to face the kitchen and surreptitiously wipe away the wetness that had leaked out.

Behind me, Larson continued the interview, his voice sounding choked.

“How many surgeries has he had so far?”

Sam answered. “Three. He’s five years old, and he’s had three open heart surgeries already. He’s the bravest person I ever met.”

Now the daddy’s voice failed him. I turned back around to see him fighting for control, but his face was red, his eyes brimming.

“Every time he goes into the operating room, it’s like… it’s so hard, because you never know if… you never know if it’s the last time you’ll see him in this world.”

He couldn’t stop the tears from streaming down his face, and neither could I control mine. I could only see Larson’s back, but I wondered how he was doing. The ragged state of his voice when he asked the next question told me he was struggling as much as I was.

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